The Singles Jukebox

They don’t look (or sound) so tough for a gang, though.

[Video]
[6.56]

Juana Giaimo: I can’t believe there are still songs about the angelic woman who saves a man. There could have been something pleasant in the beginning with the acoustic guitar, fast beat and loud bass but as soon as the vocals came, I just lost interest in all of it. The combination of deep spoken words with a sudden dramatic hoarse melody is weird. I guess they aimed for an emotional build-up towards the end, but just repeating “there is heaven in you now” louder and louder didn’t do anything for me. You know, the other day I saw a tweet that said “anytime a woman is freed from being a mommy girlfriend to a straight man i am so pleased…” and I just have to agree with that. 
[3]

Ian Mathers: The emotional tenor and especially the lyrics here are a fine blend of a specific kind of sincerity that makes me a bit uncomfortable (not the same as thinking it’s bad, or doesn’t work here, or even that it’s not effective in general… don’t worry, I’m already in therapy) and the kind of grace notes that help me get through my discomfort to appreciate what the song is doing. Sonically it makes me wonder if proper examples of Big Music are going to be in vogue again. I can think of worse things.
[7]

Tim de Reuse: Vocal delivery reminiscent of the guy from Future Islands (i.e. chewing the scenery), lyricism like The National (i.e. a succession of vague profundities), pop-post-punk momentum from The Killers (i.e. relentlessly upbeat to the exclusion of all other emotional states). All of these elements are fine in the oeuvres I’ve cited them from, but putting them all together results in something that delivers a powerful first impression with little to hear past the surface: blustery detail with no core concept.
[5]

Edward Okulicz: I’d not previously clocked how much these guys could sound like The National, though David Le’aupepe is a far less emotionally guarded singer, unafraid to aspire to anthemics in his rambling verses and heaven-directed choruses. It remains an attractive sound, and there’s a creditable attempt to make something like a “Love Will Tear Us Apart” (if you can imagine an optimistic version of that) at the end. It’s not half as profound as it superficially seems but it works. 
[6]

Vikram Joseph: David Le’aupepe and friends take us on a whirlwind tour of the last decade or so of indie-rock, taking in (in chronological order) “Keep The Car Running,” The War On Drugs circa Slave Ambient, “Graceless,” the entire Future Islands discography and eventually Gang Of Youths’ own sprawling 2017 effort Go Farther In Lightness. And fine, this is nothing we’ve not heard before, but it has an earnest, anthemic, romantic sweep that makes it clear it wants you to feel something big — and at a time like this why would you resist? The over-caffeinated bassline, propulsive Bryce Devendorf-esque drums and lashings of wiry acoustics are a potent combination, even before Le’aupepe comes in with a grand, rambling story of love and redemption. There are not many who could get away with being this hyper-literate, this painfully sincere, with describing someone’s love as “a tide of tender mercies”, but goddamn he actually pulls it off. When he sings “I wanna lay me down/and be lover of the year/in this strange new town, this strange hemisphere,” it’s as wild and disorientating as it should be — a love song that embodies the feeling it describes, capturing not just euphoria but also the dizzying realisation of what are the fucking odds?
[8]

Oliver Maier: Sometimes a song isn’t doing anything functionally impressive but still forces itself to matter. David Le’aupepe is not a distinctive vocalist, neither the lyrics or even the melodies here are really anything special. Arguably it approaches luminescence only by virtue of sounding like “Age of Consent,” the way that the moon reflects light off of the sun. Still, we all have to make exceptions, and I am predisposed to do so for a certain type of indie rock song. “There is heaven in you now” is the exact kind of poetry that it so earnest in its triteness, so of this idiom, that it’s all the climax needs to be transcendent, just for a little bit.
[8]

Nortey Dowuona: The spiralling guitar rises above the heavy drums and smash against the rumbling bass and sprinkling mandolin licks as David runs alongside it, his tearing croon spinning and flying into the guitar atop platforms of synths as a spiralling guitar falls from the spiralling guitar clouds right into David’s hands, and he rocks it to sleep.
[10]

Alfred Soto: Wait, The National have influenced bands, wtf? It’s there in the caffeinated pulse of the drums and the baritone sincerity. Fortunately for The National, though, their self-obsessed dolor doesn’t encompass angels or Eighth Avenues.
[4]

Thomas Inskeep: When your rock song is this simple-not-basic, well-constructed, and has a hand-clappy rhythm track, yeah, I’m a sucker for it. Not to mention that the joy inherent in this record is, well, a real joy.
[8]