…and a new?
[Video]
[7.11]
Anthony Easton: Matches the sameness and slight status anxiety of monogamy better than any first year sexuality studies major critiquing your lifestyle after discovering polyamoury could, but with added solipsism.
[5]
Alfred Soto: I’ve documented my weakness for house keyboards, and this little number knows how to use them as propulsion. The verses are starchy and ponderous though.
[4]
Brad Shoup: They could’ve done with just the widescreen bass, that house piano and those rubber drumsticks. When you can deliver like Coco Karshøj, you don’t need samples. One of those great songs when the title gains force every time it’s used… kind of an anti-“Hey Jude” thing.
[9]
Iain Mew: “Hey Love” splits the difference between Little Dragon and Emeli Sandé, which wasn’t something that I realised I wanted but turns out quite well! It removes the most over-demonstrative elements of the latter and incorporates an suffocating beat like the former. It’s still smooth enough that lines like “you’re ruthless like a stone” and “you brutalize my soul” almost passed me by, but after a few listens the undercurrent of hopelessness really kicked in hard and cast the rest of the vocals in a strong new light.
[7]
Daniel Montesinos-Donaghy: Coco O, O, O. My previous introductions to the lead singer of Quadron has been through her collaborations within the Odd Future camp. On The Internet’s “Visions” and on Tyler’s “Treehome95”, she plays the sultry and professional presence within the experimental sprawl of the OF camp, her cool performances acting as moments of well-placed calm. From that point of reference, it initially is a surprise to hear her voice atop something that rollicks along as intensely as “Hey Love” does. The track does two things and it does them very well: clench and release. The tension drives from a well-structured mix of house-style pianos, snapping percussion and bursts of vocal samples. While the chorus smoothes out much of these busy going-ons, the percussion doesn’t let up. While the structure peters out near the end, stumbling into a final chorus, “Hey Love” is a piece of jagged soul constructed with care as to guarantee its immediacy. Of course, the highlight lies with Coco O, her cool persona helping to sell a moment of pure noir poetry that arrives like a slap to the face: “you brutalise my soul.”
[7]
Ian Mathers: For about the first minute I thought “Hey Love” was basically fine but that piano during the chorus (and sadly only then) is near miraculous; suddenly the beat and the music and her voice are all tied together and given a renewed sense of ache, of propulsion, or soul. I think, upon further listens, that her singing also gets even better as the song goes on. The first time through the rest of the song seemed disappointing in comparison, even though it’s perfectly fine; but “Hey Love” is one of those songs where you don’t, I think, actually want it to deploy its main weapons any more than it already does, for fear of overusing them. And that piano really is perfect.
[9]
Jer Fairall: Production-wise, this all snaps together with effortless grace: between the rhythmic clack of the percussion, the spry piano jaunt, a sampled blues wail and a hook that literally hums, this packs enough good ideas to sustain at least four songs into a single rather generous one. I do wish that the vocal, while perfectly likeable, weren’t the least interesting thing about the track, with a few customary “soulful” Adele-esque high notes hit in what is starting to feel like a commercial stance every bit as obligatory in 2013 as Mariah-style vocal pyrotechnics at the peak of the Idol era.
[6]
Jonathan Bogart: It hurts, but exqusitely so.
[8]
Edward Okulicz: In being earnest yet slick, soulful yet danceable, vulnerable and confident, Quadron tick a whole batch of boxes that nobody else is ticking at the same time. Most of all, though? Full but not overdone.
[9]