As much as a remix can breathe life into a piece of music, it can also cut free the structural restraints of the original. With his take on up-and-coming artist Sam Calver’s Don’t Tell Me You Love Me, Jack Wins creates new ground for a summery hit.
On the original, Calver experiments with the flow of his vocals underneath a slight trap beat. While at times the weaving of lyrics around the relaxed tempo brings with it a creative flair, it does sound rather disjointed and has this rather ‘tight’ sound to it. There’s a sense of the vocals wanting to explore a new rhythm, but the track’s instrumentals are holding Calver back. Cue Dutch DJ Jack Wins spicing things up a bit.
With new backing piano chords moulding around the vocals, there’s much more room for Calver’s voice to take centre stage with a more anthemic edge. From stabs supporting the higher ends of his vocal range, Wins’ traditional club sound in the second verse works well with the lyrics, giving a much grittier feel to Sam’s sound. Through Jack’s creativity, we finally get a track which feels unrestrained and liberated – a feeling which translates well into the minds of listeners when giving this club track a spin.
Jack Wins’ remix of Don’t Tell Me You Love Me is available to listen to now on Spotify and Apple Music.
Spreading a strong message through comedy is most likely one of the more difficult feats to pull off within the medium – make it too serious and the humour is lost, but add too many jokes and the call to action is diminished. Fortunately, when comedian Adam Kay wrote a book giving an honest look at the intense life of a junior doctor, such a balance was brilliantly executed.
Only a select few books have had the ability to make me laugh out loud, and that does in no way suggest that I don’t have a sense of humour (more that I find it harder to laugh at written comedy), and Kay’s book is one of them. Then again, it isn’t hard to make jokes about the profession and the bizarre medical scenarios in which a doctor can find themselves – look no further than the several ‘doctor, doctor’ jokes that have appeared to have survived the test of time for proof of this.
Throughout, the book flits between diary entries about Kay’s job, and those about how his personal life is affected, just as much as it jumps between the comedic and the tragic. Then, to make it very clear that this is about a genuine insight into the life of a junior doctor (at a time when they are continued pressure), This is Going to Hurt ends on a particularly sad and emotional note regarding one medical incident. It’s a tone which precedes an open letter to the Health Secretary, which tightly sums up the points raised in the book in a TL;DR-like fashion.
With an NHS under increasing pressure, it’s easy for us to imagine the stresses that staff face after having binge-watched a series of Casualty, but in This is Going to Hurt, we hear the pure truth without the over-dramatisation – the only ‘sugarcoating’ being the added benefit of comic relief when the truth hurts too much.
Comedic, insightful and educational, this book is a must-read to understand the true pressure our junior doctors face.
‘Short and sweet’ is perhaps the best way to describe Rachel Shenton’s Oscar-winning film, The Silent Child. At a length of just 20-minutes, the debut production from the former Hollyoaks actress succeeds at painting an authentic and pure picture of a scenario many deaf young people face today.
Set in a rural countryside village, the film follows a typical family with bubbly child Libby (played by deaf actress Maisie Sly) at its heart. Born deaf, it’s soon established that she has struggled to communicate with the wider world. That is, until support worker Joanne (played by Shenton) is called in by the family to break down the communication barrier.
With charming shots from Chris Overton of Joanne riding her bicycle across country lanes, Shenton’s character has an air of Nanny McPhee about her. With textbooks in hand and the occasional sweet treat, Joanne offers her own real-life magic when she introduces Libby to the magic of sign language – one of the most heartwarming moments of the short film being when Libby signs for the first time.
What follows is the growing anxieties of a mother who sees a child deviating from the ‘mainstream’ route of speech and oralism. From the start, we see mum Sue (Rachel Fielding) portrayed as a snotty, arrogant mother which, at times, falls into cliché traits deaf viewers would have seen or experienced all too often – most likely because the forced oralism of hearing parents on deaf children is far from a rare occurrence.
As soon as we see the upbeat and powerful proof of how expressive British Sign Language can be, the film takes a much more tragic turn as a result of the above. Visual set-ups on-screen creates a perfect visual metaphor for how mainstream schools for deaf children – without the right support – can only exaggerate the communication barrier that they face.
The tragic feel, dramatic but in no way inauthentic, is the perfect tone upon which to campaign for more sign language recognition and support in schools, with statistics displayed before the credits roll allowing the film to transcend the realms of fiction to illustrate a real-life problem that many deaf children and young people in the UK face today.
In a production well and truly worthy of its Oscar win, duo Rachel Shenton and Chris Overton perfectly illustrate the communication barrier some deaf young people face with raw, emotional and tragic honesty:
It’s quite hard trying to pinpoint when exactly I stumbled across Illenium. In most instances, it’s YouTube channels like MrSuicideSheep and Proximity to whom I owe my thanks for discovering up-and-coming dance artists. Yet, on this occasion, it may have been an announced collaboration by Mako which led to me listening to Illenium’s track with Said the Sky, Where’d U Go.
With no vocals (save for the song title itself), the track is completely instrumental, broken down into the main, stuttering melody and softer, atmospheric backing chords. In the space of just over three minutes, Where’d U Go flits between quieter breaks with subtle drum-and-bass into euphoric, hazy drops.
Interestingly, there’s not always just the main melody to focus on. In the opening, fluttering piano chords are played underneath jittery synth, whilst in the choruses, multiple tunes combine with a steady drum beat to create a busy but vibrant hook of euphoric proportions.
On YouTube, listeners were quick to compare the track to Divinity by the US DJ Porter Robinson. Whilst the stumbling synth is common on both songs, Illenium’s track builds an ethereal tone through loud melodies, as opposed to Robinson’s (primarily) delicate sound in Divinity.
Paloma Faith is no stranger to the dance music genres. Having put her toes in the water on Sigma’s smash hit, Changing, her latest collaboration with Sigala on the track Lullaby sees her venture into the tropical house scene.
Whilst Changing – to be overly critical – could be described as just a faster Paloma single, Sigala (real name Bruce Fielder) is able to bring out the best of the Crybaby singer on this track. With a steady tempo of 120bpm, Lullaby progresses at a pace which isn’t unfamiliar to Faith.
What is different, however, is the more anthemic sound from Paloma – reminiscent of Galantis’ Runaway (U & I) – which we hear in the chorus in the catchy line: Won’t you sing me a sweet lullaby. Although the artist doesn’t shy away from powerful vocals, this collaboration sees a louder, shouty side of Paloma we’ve rarely heard before – wonderfully ironic for a track named Lullaby.
There’s no doubt that Fielder has scored another hit collaboration with this track, but whilst Faith’s vocals are to be commended, Sigala’s instrumental contributions should also be applauded as well.
Unlike previous singles, we hear a unique style of tropical synth on this track. Hit singles like Easy Love, Give Me Your Love or Ain’t Giving Up all have punchy piano stabs at its core, yet Lullaby ditches that entirely for a bubblier, fluttering electronic melody.
Yet, that’s not to say that such a sound hasn’t been hinted at before. The poppy intro to Came Here for Love is perhaps the closest to the feel of this track, which seems to suggest that Sigala is perhaps designing a more uniform style in preparation for his upcoming album (something which has once again been teased by Fielder fairly recently).
Despite what the song’s title may suggest, Sigala and Paloma Faith’s collaboration is a euphoric, feel-good track, kickstarting Fielder’s 2018 and building upon Faith’s recent success with The Architect.
The Wombats have certainly made some changes since their last album in 2015. Whilst the edgy album titles remain (this one being Beautiful People Will Ruin Your Life), the rock trio from Liverpool certainly succeeded in making an album which doesn’t “[punch] you in the face every time you listen to it” – pursuing a much more laid-back sound this time around.
Although, that is not to say that the band have completely ditched the rockier vibes heard on previous tracks like Moving to New Yorkand Let’s Dance to Joy Division. They’re still present on the album – albeit in a slightly new and different (but interesting) way…
Take the opener, Cheetah Tongue, which slowly eases listeners into Beautiful People… with a gritty underlying guitar riff before dropping a loud, punchy drum beat. It’s stripped-back, yet still has that Wombats kick to it we’ve felt before.
That doesn’t stop with the following song, Lemon To A Knife Fight. As the lead single from the album, the group knew it had to offer a glimpse into what the ten-track record had in store. With anthemic vocals in the chorus on top of casual instrumentals, it perfectly balances the driving rock of the old with the chilled vibes of the new. It’s certainly the stand-out track from the album, so if you have to listen to one song from Beautiful People Will Ruin Your Life, make it this one.
Then follows the third and final single from the album, Turn – a track with retreating guitar and drums that make it a song focussing more on Matthew Murphy’s vocals than an all-round dance hit. It strikes that perfect balance between full-on rock and a slower, phones-in-the-air type track – an interesting in-between.
Yet, it’s not just the singles where we see such a balance between slower and faster vibes. Over the course of the next seven tracks, we either see the punch come from pulsing drums and guitar (BlackFlamingo, Dip You in Honeyand Lethal Combination), or from Murph’s loud lyrics (Out of MyHead). Such a switch between the two keeps each track fresh as we progress towards the end of the album.
With that being said, the change-up in style is apparent when one considers the tempo of the tracks. Far from the pace of A Guide to Love, Loss and Desperation, their latest release, Beautiful People Will Ruin Your Life plays with a more relaxed rhythm – some tracks hiding the change with colourful beats and melodies, others placing emphasis on it to create a calmer feel.
This leads us to the final track, I Don’t Know Why I Like You but I Do – a track which, for the most part, is in clear contrast to the first three. A simplistic drum beat (with the odd bit of flair here and there) and smooth guitar melodies slow things down for Murph, before a gritty guitar interlude refreshes the feel and makes it a perfect showcase of the two sides of the album.
A refreshing change of style is always a risky, tough and lengthy process for any band to deliver, but with Beautiful People Will Ruin Your Life, The Wombats return to turn things down a notch, whilst maintaining the traditional groove fans know and love.
It’s only three days until the love-fest that is Valentine’s Day, and rather than releasing the typical love song, Marshmello and his latest featured artist Anne-Marie wanted to go down the more anti-romance route with their single, FRIENDS.
Described in the title for the lyric video on YouTube as being the ‘official friendzone anthem’, Anne-Marie’s smooth vocals give the perfect sassy edge to this track for heartbreakers in a style where you can almost sense the smug grin on her face as she sings the lyrics in the recording booth.
Such a vibe isn’t only given off by Anne-Marie, as Marshmello dabbles in a bit of deception. A fluttering and catchy guitar melody creates an intimate, contrasting tone to that of Anne-Marie’s, right before dropping into a dirty trap beat. FRIENDS is a beautiful anti-climax – both instrumentally and vocally – which continues Marshmello’s mellow sound in a fresh, interesting and unexpected way.