Tuesday, December 14th, 2021

Cosha – Run The Track

Formerly known as Bonzai…


Leah Isobel: “Run the track,” as a phrase, could mean two separate things. One is to start the song; one is to loop around a predetermined path. When Cosha says “run the track” in “Run The Track,” a twitchy, trebly synth loop rises from the ground, percussion baubles sputtering around it. It hits like relief after the confined, abrasive pitch correction of the verses; it’s just as digital, just as corrupted, but the melody’s breezy insouciance comes through regardless. The song came up on shuffle on my way home from one of my last terrible days at my last terrible, underpaid job. I was feeling anxious and terrible. When Cosha said “run the track” and that airy treble circled around my head, I closed my eyes and I let my body move with it, and the anxiety cycled a little further back into its shadowy place, where it waits for the next opportunity. The more I do, the more I move, the more I work and feel and think and live and choose, the more I accept that as a part of me, just a little voice in my head that I will hear until I die. I start to understand that it doesn’t and shouldn’t dictate my decisions. When Cosha says “run the track” in “Run The Track,” she both commands the cycle to start and acknowledges that it is a cycle that has a beginning and an end. She may not have full control, but she can lead it, respond to it, navigate through it. Run it.

Wayne Weizhen Zhang: In principle, there shouldn’t be a difference between “Run the Track!” and the comically outdated and bro-y “Drop the Beat!” But Cosha embues the whole track with such a sense of sophistication and warmth that it couldn’t be further away from that. “Run the Track” is best thing to come out of the Gossip Girl reboot. 

Tim de Reuse: There’s a lot of little things this does well, but the best magic trick up its sleeve is the seamless gear shift from “floating serenely” into “rolling forward,” propelled by its warbly Auto-Tune and the weight of a 909 snare. File under: does a lot with a little.

Claire Biddles: There’s a thrill in hearing Cosha’s exposed, awkward, vocoder-ed vocal line sink in to a cacophony of beats and echoes, the transition so smooth and effortless.

Iain Mew: I love the way the song slows and, after “maybe it’s just that little voice,” pauses just fractionally longer than seems natural before circling back around for “maybe it’s just white noise,” uncertainty encapsulated. It’s typical of the teasing way that the track never gets to be run straightforwardly, and when it eventually reaches “Honey, I’ve been patient” I can believe it hard.

Michael Hong: “Maybe I’m paranoid,” Cosha sings, distorted through a filter and just an arm’s reach too far away. She’ll disappear into ambient space, dancing through finger snaps and Rostam’s drums, then resurface back into your space, flipping whatever you did to haunt her right back at you. If she’s paranoid, then what are you?

Alex Clifton: Cosha runs through a hall of mirrors, leaving the listener dizzy and overwhelmed — a lovely little trip nonetheless.

Edward Okulicz: There’s something kind of loveable about the tossed-off sounding exclamation of “run the track!” that bridges the cool reserve of the verses and the cool instrumental that functions as a kind of chorus. But it also feels like a bit of papering over the fact that the song feels kind of underwritten, lacking a singular hook, and instead settling for an enticing beat and an intriguing pose. But what’s the point in catching the prey if you’re not going to kill it?

Ian Mathers: There are great songs I’m exposed to via the Jukebox that, however strongly and favourably I feel about them, seem to exist as such discrete moments that the impulse to investigate more of that artist’s work only hits me much later (often after I hear something else they’ve done that I love), and sometimes not at all. And there are great songs I’m exposed to here where practically before the first play is done I’m looking up articles on the artist and finding out whether the album is out yet so I can hear more. One of these is not lesser than the other, just different (I cherish my personal one-hit wonders as much as I do the artists who I wind up following for years), but it’s absolutely still a mark in “Run the Track”‘s favour that I am currently looking up Mt. Pleasant.

Alfred Soto: The rhythm changes surprise, the multi-track harmonies impress, hence “Run the Track” does its best to honor its title.

Reader average: No votes yet!

Vote: 0   1   2   3   4   5   6   7   8   9   10

Leave a Reply