Self Esteem – Girl Crush
No word on whether radio stations are allegedly pulling this from their lineup… yet.
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[6.56]
William John: I’m very attached to the music of Slow Club — mostly because I saw them once in a tiny venue that couldn’t have held many more than a hundred people, and witnessed the affinity that existed between members Charles Watson and Rebecca Taylor, almost like that of siblings, at such close range. Nonetheless, it’s impossible to deny that Taylor has always had a voice that was built to soar beyond the confines of twee, and thus if the dissolution of the band results in her breakout as a solo artist you won’t find me lodging a complaint. Taylor’s album as Self Esteem, Compliments Please, is more or less the precise midpoint of U.S. Girls and Lily Allen — it approaches millennial womanhood in a way that’s both forthright and playful. An early highlight is “Girl Crush,” where a thudding drum and loping strings grow more and more confident as the song progresses, enveloping Taylor as she rebukes the performative queerness that often comes with using the titular expression. Taylor’s voice has always been big, but I’m not sure that it’s ever hit with as much blunt sincerity as it does here.
[8]
Katie Gill: At least it’s not as blatantly no-homo as that other “Girl Crush” song. The strings are beautiful, the flute is superb, and the harmonies in the bridge are SUPERB. This has all the makings of an absolute banger. But I just can’t fully get behind that minimalist hand-clap beat. There are parts where it works but there are parts, like the outro, where the gorgeous, lush harmonies and instruments are layered over each other that it feels completely out of place, like a relic put in solely to keep the song from sounding too “classical.”
[7]
Iain Mew: It sounds like Jax Jones/Ina Wrolden’s “Breathe” if interpreted by Empress Of, which is an unexpected and great combination, moving fast with rawness and banging determination. That’s before adding on the flute and strings, too, which add an extra edge of uneasy conviction.
[8]
Katherine St Asaph: When I’ve liked Slow Club it’s been for high drama, and the string loop on “Girl Crush” qualifies: very transplanted-Eurovision-hit, could’ve been on an Emmelie de Forest track, and thus very great. Rebecca Taylor’s voice lends an additional Sophie Ellis Bextor-ish archness I don’t hear nearly enough. Shame about those reedy background vocals, though.
[7]
Anthony Easton: The vocals in this are perfect, sliding, meeting, cruising and splitting, reinforcing and isolating in equal measure. This might be one of the better metaphors for the liquidity of desire this year — made better by some weird instrumental choices, including what I think are panpipes.
[7]
Vikram Joseph: There’s a strange and intoxicating combination of modern alt-pop production and idiosyncratic embellishments (panpipes, dramatic Baroque string flourishes) at work here; it took me several listens to figure out that it reminded me of Wounded Rhymes-era Lykke Li. This is a simmering, serpentine pop song, eschewing easy options at every turn; even the four-chord throb of the chorus (“somebody / toooluvme”) feels deliciously unresolved, mirroring the conflicted emotions of the lyrics, in which Rebecca Taylor firmly reminds a potential lover that, as a queer woman, she’s not a toy to be played with. The concept is a little reminiscent of Tegan & Sara’s “Boyfriend,” but where Sara agonised over her partner’s intransigence, “Girl Crush” is steelier and deals in different stakes. You don’t get the feeling that Taylor is in love here, just that she refuses to be messed around by someone for whom queerness is a fun detour rather than a lived experience. “Experiment in your own time,” she warns, “I’m not your tour guide.”
[8]
Tim de Reuse: A dull, unadorned dembow rhythm spins in circles underneath the bizarre, awkward chant of “SomeboDY / to luv-ME,” which mangles its syllables together in a way that repetition does not heal. The final minute, at least, is rescued by a spike in energy that flows in with a swooping, well-utilized string section, some propulsive backing vocals, and lyrics that use fewer slant rhymes.
[6]
Joshua Minsoo Kim: I’m sorry, but these handclaps never end, and they get on my nerves when placed in a song that doesn’t develop into anything. The pan flute sounds like sampled stock music, and it’s exacerbated by strings that are as ugly and theatrically forthright as the ones in Clean Bandit’s “Rather Be.”
[3]
Iris Xie: I have no idea what genre this song is, but the last time I heard the same style, it was Through Juniper Vale’s “Bird Song.” They both have this jaunty, asymmetrical hyper-pop folk song style, with bombastic uses of strings, lots of backup vocals and high-toned lilts, but it comes off as jumpy, hyper, and disorganized and hard to listen to without having to be on their particular tempo.
[5]
Reader average: [8] (1 vote)