You can’t plan a hit as big as ‘(It Goes Like) Nanana’, but if anyone could, it’s Peggy Gou. The Korean-born, Berlin-based house producer has made all the right moves since the playful 2018 single ‘It Makes You Forget (Itgahane)’, which featured her singing for the first time. Her cool delivery and slick melodicism stood out. Soon, she had Vogue photoshoots, a massive social following and a hectic tour schedule. But last year’s chart success underlined her crossover appeal; not every dance track gets sung like a football chant at festivals.
Writing a hit put a pause on the album rollout. Fans have been drip-fed songs since 2021’s breezy self-motivation anthem, ‘I Go’. ‘I Hear You’ is a singles album, in that half the songs are singles. While that kills some of the first-listen buzz, it’s understandable. Gou spent time fine-tuning to align with her utopian vision of 90’s Eurodance, as nailed on ‘Nanana’. Some clear touchpoints are ‘Rhythm is a Dancer’, ‘Show Me Love’, and obviously, ‘9PM Till I Come’.
Like ‘Nanana’, ‘Back to One’ and ‘Lobster Telephone’ have impeccably-layered synth hooks and nods to ’90s classics. Both songs present Gou as a beacon of positivity and perseverance connecting us through dance, as stated in her cheeky Korean lyrics: “I know you don’t understand this / But it doesn’t matter / It’s all the same / We’re all the same.” It’s a simple message, but it’ll feel downright spiritual after two pints in the park.
When ‘I Hear You’ deviates from its dance-pop blueprint, it doesn’t always work. The throwback R&B on Lenny Kravitz collaboration ‘I Believe in Love Again’ is a diversion into drab balladry. Next is ‘All That’, a Spanglish pop-rap tune featuring Puerto Rican rapper Villano Antillano. It fairs better thanks to their clear chemistry. Still, two mid-tempo tracks early on stalls the record’s momentum. It’s odd pacing from a DJ.
The album picks up in its explorative second half, with intercontinental drum’n’bass (‘Seoulsi Peggygou’) and comforting piano house (‘Purple Horizon’). There are still cheesy references and canned snare fills, but also a welcome dose of surprise.
That’s the joy of Peggy Gou’s music – she balances class and kitsch equally. When it works, it’s like finding dance music for the first time. ‘I Hear You’ has a pureness that will give many that feeling. You know, that feeling? It goes like Nanana.

Grandeur sits at the heart of ‘This Music May Contain Hope’, RAYE’s second album, and the result feels nothing short of breathtaking. On this record, the singer born Rachel Keen explores a wide spectrum of sounds across its 73 minute length, moving from emotional ballads to lively funk moments and the jazz pop style she has become closely associated with. It can feel overwhelming at first, yet the magic that comes from RAYE fully committing to her vision makes the experience rewarding from start to finish.
‘This Music May Contain Hope’, a conceptual project about pushing through insecurity and heartbreak, unfolds like a lavish stage production. RAYE takes on the dual role of main character and guiding voice throughout the story. “Allow me to set the scene. Our story begins at 2:27am on a rainy night in Paris. Cue the thunder,” she says during the opening track ‘Girl Under The Grey Cloud’, which arrives with sweeping orchestral strings. Spoken passages appear across the album, helping shape the narrative and giving the project a sense of direction, almost like hearing the official recording of a Broadway show.
With this framework in place, the South London artist allows herself to fully explore the album’s diverse musical palette, and most of the time it works in her favor. Sometimes she fully embraces the theatrical side of the concept, especially during the closing section of the smooth R&B track ‘The WhatsApp Shakespeare’. Other moments are delivered more straightforwardly, such as the emotional slow building ballad ‘I Know You’re Hurting’. She also revisits her earlier dance influences with the impressive house track ‘Life Boat’.
Across the entire album, two things stand out clearly. RAYE’s flexible vocals sound better than ever, and her songwriting feels sharper than it has before. Take the playful highlight ‘I Hate The Way I Look Today’, a swing jazz inspired track reminiscent of Ella Fitzgerald, where she admits “I’m okay to be lonely / If I’m lonely and skinny / I have such silly self-loathing thoughts, it seems”. Then there is the emotional storytelling in ‘Nightingale Lane’: “It was right there, early June / Next to Old Park Avenue / Standing in the rain, I watched him walk away”.
Despite all the vulnerability and emotional struggles explored throughout the record, RAYE ultimately reaches a place of optimism, staying true to the album’s title. She gathers her close friends on ‘Click Clack Symphony’ with support from Hans Zimmer, finds closure with guidance from Al Green on the smooth seventies soul inspired ‘Goodbye Henry’, and reaches toward something greater alongside her sisters Amma and Absolutely on the uplifting ‘Joy’ as she searches to be “free of all the pain and every fear”. After the stormy opening imagery of that “rainy night” and “thunder”, RAYE eventually realizes that “the sun exists behind the clouds”, as she shares on ‘Happier Times Ahead’.
‘This Music May Contain Hope’ shows RAYE performing at her absolute peak. The album feels huge in scale and emotionally powerful, yet it remains rooted in honest experiences and real feelings. Yes, it asks a lot from the listener, but that is also what makes it so special. Every dramatic moment and musical shift feels like RAYE claiming her independence and finally creating music entirely on her own terms.
