ALBUM REVIEWS
Since making his debut in 2014, it’s been clear that Loyle Carner’s music has been somewhat of a diary for the British-Guyanese rapper. 2017’s breakthrough ‘Yesterday’s Gone’ tackled the emptiness that comes with grief, 2019’s ‘Not Waving, But Drowning’ explored pressures of being in the public eye, and the critically acclaimed ‘Hugo’ in 2022 pondered identity and heritage.
Fair to say, light-hearted themes have never been the lyrical maverick’s main focus, but the heavier ones have established him as one of the most rousing rap artists in recent memory. If past releases were a way of articulating life’s hardships, fourth album ‘Hopefully!’ finds Carner coming to terms with them. While still grounded in introspection, the 11 tracks capture a more optimistic outlook than usual and see the songwriter start to embrace other genres.
Uplifting indie inflections are introduced in tracks like ‘In My Mind’ and ‘All I Need’, with Carner writing and recording alongside a live band for the first time. Similarly, songs like ‘Strangers’ see him turn his focus to singing instead of rapping – letting the feeling created speak louder than a myriad of words. It’s a departure from his comfort zone, but leaning into this makes lyrics like “How much pressure on a man before he breaks / my heart aches, trying to find a way to ease the pain” hit on a deeper level.
While there is an obvious rose-tinted outlook in album four, that isn’t to suggest that the South London artist has blindly opted to move on from previous burdens. Genuine concerns around fatherhood are explored on ‘About Time’ (“My son needs a father, not a rapper / can I give him what he’s after?”), and the title track features a posthumous appearance from mentor Benjamin Zephaniah, exploring unexpected loss.
It’s become Loyle Carner’s signature to let emotive topics rise to the surface. This time though, instead of falling into melancholy, they are greeted with understanding and patience. ‘Hopefully!’ may not be a black-and-white ‘feel-good’ record, but in embracing these nuances side by side, Carner delivers his most mature output yet.
His lyrics and instrumentals may be more intricate than before, but they come together more coherently than ever. This isn’t just Loyle Carner at his most refined, it is the start of a new chapter. As for what may come next, the answer is probably best explained in the lyrics to ‘Time To Go’: “Who am I supposed to be today? I don’t know / All I can do is take it slow.”
ALBUM REVIEWS
The leather jackets and skinny jeans worn by Noah Dillon and Chandler Ransom Lucy have become something of a signature, and the pair have hovered around the edges of the pop worlds in New York and Los Angeles for quite some time. First highlighted by NME during the Dimes Square resurgence in 2023, The Hellp have gradually stepped away from their earlier indie-sleaze imitation and leaned into something far more thoughtful. Their wild, neon-tinged party vibe has been traded for a more cinematic electronic approach that still holds onto a confident, self-aware attitude.
Dillon and Lucy started releasing music as The Hellp in 2016, with early mixtapes rooted in the chaotic nights and carefree behaviour once associated with NYC’s indie-sleaze staples like LCD Soundsystem and Yeah Yeah Yeahs. Over time, though, they’ve earned a steadily growing respect from critics. That rise has come through both their underground gigs, which have included a show at London’s Corsica Studios with Fakemink as support, and through Dillon’s expanding visual work that recently reached Rosalía’s ‘LUX’ album and a pair of music videos for 2hollis.
As ‘Riviera’ approached release, the duo shared: “We knew our next project would need to be a bit more mature… we refuse to become stagnant. ‘Riviera’ is more solemn, restrained and impassioned than anything we’ve done before.” The finished album feels like Dillon and Lucy carefully balancing identity and openness, theatricality and direct emotion.
The lead release, ‘Country Road’, carries a late-night heaviness, the kind of confession you would quietly tell a friend in a club’s smoking area. Its lonely tone is surrounded by glitching electronics and a rising bridge that points to the exhaustion that follows endless nights out. Tracks like ‘New Wave America’ and ‘Cortt’ deepen what the duo mention in their liner notes as a “desperate story of the disparate Americana.” Both pieces broaden the album’s emotional landscape and offer clear-eyed commentary on reluctantly stepping into adulthood.
When ‘Riviera’ shifts into ‘Doppler’, the tone brightens for a moment as hopeful synths lift Dillon’s words about yearning and heartbreak into an emotional peak. And in the final moments of the record, The Hellp land on something instantly familiar to anyone who has drifted away from the club scene. The Kavinsky-like opening of ‘Here I Am’ nods to their early inspirations, while the closing track ‘Live Forever’ arrives with a slow, grounded maturity, built around Dillon repeating the line: “I don’t want to live forever.”
‘Riviera’ holds far less disorder than The Hellp’s earlier releases. This turn inward marks an important risk for a duo once fuelled by the momentum of a downtown New York comeback. By easing off the frenzy, The Hellp have stepped out of the party’s lingering haze and returned with a style that feels more refined and more aware of itself than anything they have created before.
