Round-up Tracks: Wolf Alice, Years & Years, & More

With ‘Giant Peach,’ Wolf Alice confirmed - as if it even needed extra proof - that they can effortlessly flick a switch and turn everyone into turbo powered nodding dogs at the drop of a monster riff. ‘I Saw You (In A Corridor),’ the band’s new super-limited single, is a separate endeavor to their forthcoming debut album, and it somersaults towards stripped-back acoustics. Aside from muffled nattering humming away now and then in the background, and the occasional seventh chord embellishment, Ellie Rowsell’s crystalline vocal takes centre-stage.

‘I Saw You (In A Corridor)’ captures that all too familiar feeling of hovering in space before plunging into a terrifying loop-the-loop on a rollercoaster, energy-drink fuelled butterflies flitting around your stomach, or accidentally falling for someone. Wolf Alice are at their most deliberately restrained here, and by placing tighter parameters around their expansive, fuzz-drenched foundations, they unearth a gorgeously vulnerable side. Wolf Alice are unstoppable, and they work flutes and Game of Thrones robes like nobody else on this sweet earth. With ‘I Saw You (In A Corridor),’ they show that emotional potency is fast becoming one of their major currencies, too. (El Hunt)

Because it’s custom to hate on prize-winning newcomers who somehow won a Sound Of poll (with actual votes) and sold records (to actual fans), Years & Years are already getting a fairly rough ride in 2015. Especially considering their dance-pop hybrid isn’t more than a couple of doors down from Disclosure’s hype factory. For a while now, they’ve been accused of being devoid of personality, basic bros with synths. Rinsed with complexities, ‘Worship’ isn’t by any means some kind of miracle worker. It doesn’t possess the secrets to the universe or a musical ethos for the future. It’s devoted to a massive chorus - like any Years & Years song, really. But it’s the opposite of plain fodder. This trio deserve to be at the top, and they’ve got plenty more to give. (Jamie Milton)

Grimes just can’t stay out of the news, can she? She scrapped her entire album because she thought it was ‘depressing’. She hit out against sexism on her blog. She had a Twitter spat with DIIV over her dietary choices. She even wears socks and sandals in public. There’s never a dull moment with Grimes.

‘Entropy’, her second collaboration with the co-captain of FUN. - Jack Antonoff - is essentially an upbeat power-pop song, featuring Grimes’ echoing vocals and the glitzy, well-oiled production Antonoff has made his trademark. ‘Entropy’ is a real earworm; catchy and smooth. It’s in stark contrast to Grimes’ recent demo of her own solo work, ‘REALiTi’; a surging, atmospheric mix-match of EDM and trance that wouldn’t look out of place in Nicholas Winding Refn’s ‘Drive’ soundtrack. It’s great to see Grimes continuing to collaborate, and showing that not only can she dabble and succeed in many different genres, but, most importantly, that she does whatever the fuck she wants - be it making power-pop alongside her experimental solo output or wearing socks and sandals in public. Kudos for making the word ‘entropy’ work in a pop song, though. (Lucas Fothergill)

Compared to the richly textured decadence of ‘Age of Adz’, Sufjan Steven’s recent material has been characterised by a return to his no-frills folk beginnings, harking back to the simple, laid-bare emotion of his 2004 album ‘Seven Swans’. The title track from Stevens’ forthcoming album ‘Carrie & Lowell’ is the most markedly acoustic track that he has previewed so far. Mixing references to anti-psychotic drug thorazine, and brief dark snapshots - “head on the floorboards (covered in blood)” - with fantastical scenes taken straight from pastoral fairyland, his lyrics come from a typically poetic place.

As a whole Stevens’ record ‘Carrie & Lowell’ is inspired by childhood trips to Oregon with his mother and his step-father. “Ephemera on my back/ She breaks my arm,” goes the final line; ephemera meaning things that are only enjoyed for a short time. Cryptic, and bursting with feeling, it’s a beautiful piece of songwriting. (El Hunt)

Listen to ‘Carrie & Lowell’ here on Mary Anne Hobbes’ show - it starts at 33:03.

Death Cab For Cutie have forged out a formidable reputation for their approach to lyrical benevolence, and ‘Little Wanderer’ ticks all of those emo-tinged boxes perfectly. Telling the tale of long distance relationship and all of the woes and heartache that comes with it, there’s also an underlying tone of optimism, too; like an anger-fuelled autumn walk or an indulgent post-breakup bubble bath. With Ben Gibbard’s ever-influential musing guitar tones and captivating vocal hooks leading the way, this track oozes familiarity to older Death Cabbers, while simultaneously providing an open arm approach to newer fans.

The band’s forthcoming release ‘Kintsugi’ hones in on heavily melodic guitar lines and smooth as silk harmonic tendencies. Although it’s their first release without songwriter-guitarist Chris Walla, ‘Kintsugi’ - out on 31st March - still wholly sounds like a Death Cab For Cutie album. (Natasha West)

Light is proving to be the central theme of Django Django’s return, and after previous single ‘First Light’ flickered with the promise of what’s to come, ‘Reflections’ comes burning into view like an experimentation-fuelled beacon. Its initial hit comes in the form of a galloping Todd Terje-esque synth pattern, and while it’s a suitable pointer for a track that owes much to house and disco, its 4/4 pulse and happy piano riffs are only half the story, here. Flirting generously with nu disco and piano house nods, it’s put up alongside a mind-boggling sax-led middle 8 that strikes of absolute ballsy triumph. Django Django’s story is beginning to feel like a continuous evolution. It’s one borne of complete fluidity and a freedom with their own creativity, allowing them to pull things off in ways that few others could. Django Django have replicated their previous vibrancy, applying it in a way that’s positively glistening. (Liam McNeilly)

Tags: Features, Listen, Wolf Alice, Years & Years