No Turbo B, no cred…
[Video][Website]
[4.25]
Daniel Montesinos-Donaghy: Even in victory lap album reissue mode, Bastille want to stick to an apocalypse motif — the insistent beeping that opens “Of the Night” is insistent on communicating doominess. So this is the end of the world: confrontation by two pieces of pop-cultural rites-of-passage, songs ingrained in our memories. If the world is really going to fade away/burn out, why not turn the nocturnal hymns of a certain generation into summons of oblivion? If they want their attempts at grandeur to truly work, then why does Dan Smith continue to sing like he’s got a mouth full of coins?
[4]
Scott Mildenhall: Issuing this previously freely available mashup as an official single could prove to be a smart move for Bastille. Covering one recognisable classic is often enough to reignite a (slightly) flagging album campaign, never mind two at once, and although — contrary to the beliefs of advertisers blandishing and brandishing similar tracks — it’s not a guaranteed route to anything that interesting, Bastille have managed it, not only through their cutting and shutting, but also by adapting their sources into their own magical ‘n’ mysterious style — perfect for selling things at Christmas, in fact.
[7]
Katherine St Asaph: If I wanted to listen to MIDI Coldplay, I’d listen to actual MIDI Coldplay.
[3]
Alfred Soto: To be honest, no one wanted a Daft Punkified version of Corona’s “The Rhythm of the Night.” Not when the results are closer to the Buggles.
[3]
Jonathan Bradley: That Araabmuzik record was pretty great, wasn’t it? Really should dig that out and give it another spin.
[3]
Anthony Easton: I feel bad for Bastille’s sex and bed partners. If their rhythm is so anemic in musical context, can you imagine them elsewhere?
[2]
Brad Shoup: The sources may pull equal weight for many. Me, I’m all about “Rhythm of the Night” — it’s a holy document. I’ve never been a club congregant; I spend most nights listening to the Missouri Pacific, blowing smoke into an orange sky. But Corona’s hit is solipsistic, and locks me into a solipsistic state. Someone else invokes the titular phrase, but the fierceness of its declaration — this is — returns the idea to the singer’s mind. Different strokes, etc., but it’s hard for me to know how much Bastille value their main source when they tack on the Snap! bit. Still, this is a different kind of haunt. Giovanna Bersola played the verses like a soft sob; as an impeccable alt-rocker, Dan Smith lavishes care on every elegant phrase. The result is a bifurcated emotional throughline: the verses are less interior and more intimate; the refrain (which tips its hand once one “oh yeah” has been swapped for a goonish “ooh hoo”) puts a dome on the sky. A bad cover exists to jolt the memory. A good cover stretches the text over a new body.
[9]
Patrick St. Michel: Just stick with the originals, here and here.
[3]