It’s that time again. Months after we last pricked our typing finger and fell fast asleep, Chløë Black has once more hacked her way through the foliage around Castle Alphabet Bands to plant the kiss of true musical love on our forehead and awoken us from our slumber. This time she’s in a silver lamé jumpsuit and has come armed with ray guns, tin foil and plastic flying saucers.
Black’s seductive vocals and her deliciously, subtly infectious melodies have always taken us to infinity and beyond and now we’re flying higher than ever. Co-written with Ferras, “Spaceman” is about the sometimes unrealistic expectations we place on romantic partners to be entirely extraordinary and almost infallible. It is also as good as anything she has done to date; lyrically dextrous, inventive and quick witted. It trips and swirls around the cosmos as synth stars go supernova around her. The beat pops and crackles like a firework powered rocket as a wistful piano line drifts beneath.
Her vocal undulates and cavorts delicately with the melody as she sings of this otherworldly being, this near mythical creature she craves to bring love and desire. It’s enticing, dreamy and incredibly real and relatable. Her noir-ish electropop sounds continues to enthrall and evolve, and those hooks continue to enslave even the most resistant of minds.
Musically speaking, Chløë Black is our Spaceman.
Styling and art by Brooke Candy
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