Kingdom ft. Kelela – Bank Head

From Angela, our second catch-up to Kelela…

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[6.78]Zach Lyon: Hey, this was my second choice for Amnesty so here’s me eating my cake. “Bank Head” is still the only song on Cut 4 Me that I really love, but it might be because it’s the only one I’ve listened to on headphones. This is a lie-in-your-bed-in-the-dark-and-listen-with-headphones-on-repeat song, like so many, and it only took me one listen to decontextualize it out of “dance” and “R&B” and “pop” to realize it — not to say that those aren’t great headphones-in-the-dark genres, they just don’t usually require it. I only need two hooks: the chipmunk line that comes in surprisingly late in the game (in the full cut, at least) with good reason (it’d sound so tacky otherwise!) and the landmine note in the starting/background melody. That ugly, flat note that disrupts the whole song before it even starts and then gets pounded into the foundation. These disparates harmonize and then there’s guest Kelela, whose vocals might sound nuts a capella, who instead meshes so well with the high end and the low end that she comes off subtle.
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Angela O.: Equal props to Kingdom and Kelela for the end product here. The song feels alive — the lyrics come from that deep, dark place that we’re most scared to show to others, and the beat mimics the heart palpitations that happen when your fear of opening up is fighting with the urgent need to do exactly that. I love the point where the song hesitates — as if it’s debating whether it’s going to reveal all or maintain the status quo – and then lets loose completely immediately after. The three-word summary is “soulful club banger” – a.k.a the only music I’ll ever need.
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Will Adams: The artist most recommended to me this year on the grounds that they were “right up my alley” was Kelela (if you must know, the second-most was Lorde). That I’ve been so ambivalent toward her puzzles me; what am I portraying in my musical choices that suggests I would love this? “Bank Head” solves nothing. It meanders, spitting out dark drums that don’t knock as hard as they should, while Kelela follows suit. It’s pretty, but that’s it.
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David Turner: This is Kelela’s first year of success. A Best New Music designation, stellar live performances and being championed by Solange Knowles: short of being on a Drake or Kanye album, those are pretty solid markers of having made it. But I gotta be the hater throwing shade again. A nice voice, a barely-there persona and lacking production is not music worth championing, or worth even getting mildly excited about. But Kelela, keep shining like a lamp, because I’ll happily be wrong when you make that winning single.
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Daniel Montesinos-Donaghy: Surges along with a tinge of faint danger in Kingdom’s prog-trance main synth, barely moving until the bridge — “it’s all I dreamed of,” Kelela repeats over and over, the drums turning into claps and disembodied vocal snatches, something like being stuck in freefall. The beat drops, but the vibe is the same throughout “Bank Head” — it’s impressive how little Kingdom’s production changes its movements beyond slight wriggles. Kelela doesn’t just add texture, she keeps this beat on its feet. It’s accommodating for her, rather than the other way around.
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Anthony Easton: Smooth and layered, almost sweet as a trifle but more complicated, but once you hear the lyrics or fully absorb that voice, it becomes completely lethal. Extra point for the oblique and hidden/esoteric reading of Whitney.
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Alfred Soto: Click click click, occasional boom, falsetto all over the place. For almost five minutes this collaboration takes root and won’t metamorphose into anything other than it is. Wearisome but impressive.
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Brad Shoup: You never want to get outpointed by your vocal squiggle. Kingdom sets his drumrolls on each other’s heels, practically daring a collision. They add froth to the track; Kelela is heavy cream, spending so much time navigating the melody through her lower register it almost reads like an avant-garde play. Still, those handclaps sound awful impatient…
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Mallory O’Donnell: Post-rave rhythm and blues positively bleeding with atmosphere. All the elements are balanced and correct, all the levels check. Almost too perfect. Rarely do a relatively unmodified vocal and an electronic backing track fit this sweetly and severely together. And if you liked this, there are at least five other songs on the Saint Heron album that are even better.
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