The Singles Jukebox

Sleep sounds nice. Oh, also the song is good too…

[Video]
[6.83]

Alfred Soto: The Brisbane native has constructed a sugar-pop swirl of influences: a little Wild Nothings here, some Chvrches there, a dollop of Cocteau Twins. At its best when the the synths and sequencer can’t shut up, “Sleep” is innocuousness at its most tuneful.
[6]

Claire Biddles: Like her contemporaries Pale Waves, Hatchie makes the kind of spacious, effortless dreampop that sounds tailor-made for soundtracking movie montages or the train journey to meet someone you love: “Sleep” is all movement, potential, possibility. 
[7]

Katherine St Asaph: It’s basically a dream-pop Hoku song, which is to say, entirely my shit.
[7]

Ian Mathers: I am an unabashed sucker for any place where synthpop and shoegaze meld together/realize they weren’t that different anyway [someone: “isn’t that just dream pop?” someone else: “nobody uses that unless they’re talking about the Cocteau Twins, and this only sort of sounds like them, plus you can make out all the words”], so I was predisposed to like this from the start. It helps that they lead with the vastly superior chorus, before going into the overly matchy-matchy verses (you don’t have to try to rhyme everything, kids). Those are kept to a minimum and the rest of the song is great, but it’s just enough to keep this song from the [8] it otherwise deserves.
[7]

Juan F. Carruyo : It’s wise to lead with your chorus if it’s the catchiest thing in the track. This time it’s so damn infectious that the song refuses to let it peter away, repeating it five times throughout the track. The verses are only a mere breather before the chorus hits you again with all its magnificence.
[8]

Julian Axelrod: Hatchie has crafted a shimmering, sweeping synth storm with a delectable sense of longing and an instrumental earworm sticky enough to transcend the ’80s pastiche. That song is called “Sugar & Spice,” and it’s one of my favorite singles of the year. “Sleep” is… not that, but it’s certainly going for the same vibe. Maybe it’s not fair to judge this on the merits of its predecessor, but everyone (including Harriette Pilbeam herself) seems to think “Sleep” is Peak Pop, and I am nothing if not petty. This is perfectly competent, but I wish everything about it was dialed up a notch or two: the Depeche Mode Jr. synth line, the halfhearted hook, and especially that awkward afterthought of a bridge. It’s hard to reconcile my vastly different reactions to two similar songs by the same artist. I forget about “Sleep” before the song’s even over, while “Sugar & Spice” has been lodged in my brain since I first pressed play.
[6]