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Music Review | “King” by Ryder
Quantum dance pop singularity, Ryder returns with the stutter bounce, decedent synth swell and swagger of new single, “King”
Single Review by Tobi Davis
Night club dropped, cosmic infinite. Synths pulse, pro-mist limited. FX-ed vox, star collapsed forgotten, corridor-echo-idle. ‘It’s so strange, how you’ll never know’. Ryder’s vocals stand tall, majestic. Get you, from the get go, prerogative defined, devined. ‘Things I thought I needed, I just let ’em go.’ Pitch drop. Repeat. Beat. Quantum dance pop singularity, Ryder returns with the stutter bounce, decedent synth swell and swagger of new single, “King”.
Kick dips into darkness. Snare cracks, brittle. Layers, snaps and bites, percussive. ‘Love the way you put me on that pedestal,’ Ryder’s voice regales poet, regal. High pitch. Repeat. And we run, ‘So h-I-gh, got enough to get by..’ vocals change-up. Beat remains, stutter-stop-start. ‘..and I’m sippin champagne with the love of my life..’. Contrast. From the low down to the high life. Vox FX chime, digital warp. Hit the chorus.
Hyper-spaced, Ryder slings her words. Heavy processed, floating light. Language touching the binary, star. Dancefloor breaks, open. Beats skip. Punctuated reversed. Circuit board bassline, polarizing drag. De-s-rever. Rhythm shifts, static. King-King-King. The ambient swims in effected vocals, and the stereo-field sings.
Snap. We’re back. ‘Maybe I’m caught up in all your para-di-se?’ Second verse dropped, cosmic infinite. Kick dips, beat. Stutter-start-stop. ‘Twice as nice,’ pitched into darkness. Repeat. And we run, ‘So h-I-gh, got enough to get by..’ Chimed, vox FX. Hyper-spaced, we float light. King-King-King. Second chorus, the stereo-field sings. And we break down to change up.
‘Making love in the..’, Ryder words nonchalant, ‘Only us in the..’ syllables into vowels, ‘Going down to..’, beat skips static, ‘Now you’ve really got..’ Bassline drag, polarized star. Repeat. ‘Making love..’, vocal backs up, ‘Only us..’, high orbital, pitched, ‘Going down..’, geostationary beat, ‘Now you’ve really got your hands full’. Snap.
Final chorus. Interstellar easy-drive. Swagger. Faster than light, we fold beats. Bassline anchor. King-King-King. Melodic decoration, so rare. Dance Floor heaves. Ryder’s vocals, throned upon that pedestal. Roof lifts off, floats so light. Lyrics stood tall, above it all. King-King-King. Stutter-stop. And the night sky? Crowned, Ryder.
Tobi DavisShowreelFacebook.com/tobiproducer Twitter: @producedbytobi Instagram: producedbytobi
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