The Singles Jukebox

And single of ours…

[Video]
[7.45]

Julian Axelrod: You never know when you’ll hear the song that changes your life. It could come from a DJ, or an algorithm, or a girl group lifer who you could have sworn was the third most famous member of Fifth Harmony but was actually the first or second most notable member of Little Mix, depending on who you ask. I had no idea what Jade Thirlwall’s debut single would sound like before I first pressed play, but even if you gave me 1000 guesses, I never would have landed on “Rina Sawayama doing Uffie over a Eurovision sample that curdles into the nastiest dubstep drop since the Obama administration.” This isn’t the first time an X Factor alum has stuffed a solo single with a million disparate elements to keep things interesting; it’s not even the first time it’s happened this year. But the magic of “Angel of My Dreams” is the way it extends that first-listen feeling to listens 2-500. Even though I know the song by heart, each individual section is so strong that I never expect the drop, or the rap verse, or the intro melody reprise at the end. (I didn’t even notice the camera flash sound effects at the 2:07 mark until my third listen!) This could be the start of an all-time pop run, or it could be a fleeting moment of glory. I couldn’t care less: When I’m listening to “Angel of My Dreams,” I just want to live in each moment until it ends, then immediately live them all again.
[10]

Harlan Talib Ockey: Girls Aloud doing nightcore “Bohemian Rhapsody”, except also emotionally brutal. We will watch your solo career with great interest.
[7]

Dave Moore: How do you even write a pop melody like this these days? Nothing borrowed yet nothing new — dozens of refreshes of WhoSampled yields nothing to alleviate my nagging sense that surely I’ve heard it before; my brain refuses to play a rousing game of earworm hunt like with Chappell Roan. It’s a bit of a shame that the whole thing devolves into a K-pop-ish party-by-numbers muddle, but in the end she wins, is not in the bin, etc.
[8]

Kat Stevens: If I don’t win, I’m in the bin. Specifically, the bin on Deptford High Street opposite Perfect Fried Chicken.
[8]

Iain Mew: Some of the joy “Angel of My Dreams” has brought is that it’s 80% of the way to being a maximalist Rina Sawayama song, and yet is also a persistent enough UK hit to have re-entered the top ten in its fourth week. The range of possibilities looks newly widened. Jade brings some specific things to make it her own triumph too. It’s not just leading off with something so ambitious and inventive, but that she is able to wear it so lightly and naturally, Harry Styles-style. It’s even more impressive to do so with a song that appears to dig into bitter personal experience, centred around repetitions of IT’S NOT FAIR so resonant as to move from sulk to deep truth. 
[9]

Nortey Dowuona: Jade Thirlwall apparently sees the chance to etch her name into stone, rather than make a safe, easy pitch that might simply be forgotten or regarded as nice. But there are many songs about the cruel and unusual punishment of daring to use one’s talent and love to make random weirdos who wear unflattering V-necks a lot of money. Thus Mike Sabath, creator of the world-conquering “Escapism” (and, in a fun little twist, another Jade and Mike Joint as well as the second best Liam Payne song) starts us off with a wilting cry of desperation that has to be walloped by the heavy swing of the chorus, glittery synths sitting atop. The song zips into raspy bass and flimsy and flimsier kick/snare patterns from then on, slowly flattening you until you are nearly crushed. The heavy-handed swing of the first chorus sweeps back in to save you and bind you to it as it disappears, Jade’s firm, fluttery soprano left hanging out on the ledge. It’s almost as if JADE, unlike RAYE, is not begging to be set free — she’s begging to be let in.
[6]

Jonathan Bradley: Cycling through three different song concepts in the first 35 seconds suggests not so much a desire to “do something crazy” as a struggle to hit on anything melodically memorable. It turns out that the slowed-down bass-heavy breakdown works, as does the twinkling fairy dance augmenting the chorus, but a lot of this mistakes attitude for tune — the sort of B-grade effort that made Little Mix only intermittently worthwhile. See, for instance, Jade stretching out  “feels li-yi-yi-yi-yi-ke” and “spoli-yi-yi-yi-yi-ight” for no real purpose beyond filling time before the next switch up.
[4]

Taylor Alatorre: The lack of concern for the cleanliness of the transitions make this feel like a promising storyboard in search of a director, or least someone to step in and say that a desire to be seen as daring and boundary-pushing does not equate to such, and can in fact expose the whole gambit. Most listeners should walk away with a favored segment to return to — mine is the chrome-polished, push-to-start recitation of the title phrase — but a quarterlife retrospective like this should feel more internally cohesive than a sitcom clip show.
[5]

Ian Mathers: The classic “pick your battles. pick… pick fewer battles than that. put some battles back. that’s too many” tumblr post, now in song form!
[7]

Mark Sinker: The idea was like a will o’the wisp or Capt.Fawcett’s Lost City of Z, a gleam, a flicker, a dangerous promise glimpsed across a clearing and through the trees — and it was something like this (it was always hard to explain clearly). A manufactured alt-pop girlie gang, perfectly designed to win reality TV competitions because also able to fashion the drama of their rise — and their internal ebbs and flows — into quilted chart-prog rap-adjacent concept EPs and singles-length mini-musicals, like the Hamilton of the Sugababes. It’s there, always beckoning, just out of reach — and the acts that pass through the glamour of it are always great, of course, very great, but they also always dissipate too fast, before they really land on the absolute thing itself. Perhaps that’s the point; perhaps that’s my doom. 
[9]

Katherine St. Asaph: I am banned from time machines now because I abused my time-travel privileges to do frivolous shit, like posting this song to the Popjustice forums in 2007 and measuring the blast radius of Xenomaniac rapture.
[9]