Sounds nice, but do bear in mind that islands can engender quite insular mindsets…
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[6.50]
Edward Okulicz: The idea of The Island in pop music is one of solitude, either chosen by or thrust upon its invoker. Here, the message of “go away now” is softened by the inviting side-to-side rocking of the beat, like the sway of a boat, and the lazy sing-song of the melody. The words say “and don’t come back” but the rue in the delivery says the opposite. The contradiction keeps me listening to work out what the intent is, but as the heat cranks up south of the equator, this has a summery crispness that works without any real dissection required.
[9]
Alfred Soto: I avoid comparing female artists with each other, but it’s clear this New Zealander singer-songwriter is part of the return to lo-fi aesthetics and clenched-teeth delivery in which Billie Eilish and to some extent Lorde have thrived. The keyboard hook bounces.
[6]
Tobi Tella: A soft and groovy plea to escape the regular world and completely disconnect. The lyrics and production aren’t necessarily the most interesting or new, but Benee’s vocal helps sell it. It manages to capture the spirit of being overwhelmed while keeping the proceedings relaxed and calm.
[6]
Iain Mew: The islands make me think of i-island breezes and a positive release. That goes with the uneven bounce of the beat that keeps the number of chorus repeats from getting too much. Meanwhile verses keep up a constant imagery of ships, shipping, shipwrecks, and pull in different directions like the wind and ropes inside. The bounce carries on and Benee sounds pleasantly above it all, her island already found.
[7]
Kayla Beardslee: A pleasant, tropical exercise in extended metaphor, a lighter contribution to our post-Eilish vocal world, and one of the nicest-sounding ways I’ve ever heard someone say “Get the hell away from me.” The lyrics do have some interesting nuances: an island that “nobody knows but me,” for instance, suggests that the protagonist may want the option to get back together with her ex after all. There’s also the contrast in “maybe our maps go different ways,” where the uncertainty of “maybe” clashes with the predetermined nature of maps — probably the narrator in denial about her relationship being doomed from the start. Masking any pain with an overconfident retort and a watery groove, Benee creates a song with surprising depth.
[6]
Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: A friend of mine has curated a playlist of songs that play when you’re trying to study for your high school finals in an H&M changing room. If you’re wondering what the music on said playlist sounds like, just listen to this.
[5]