TRACK OF THE WEEK

Jeremih ft Stefflon Don, Krept & Konan
London

Much like Drake or the most recent Muppets film, Jeremih has turned to London for inspiration – and it’s paid off. In fact, so much so that it’s unlikely anyone will come away from the imaginatively titled London talking about him. The show-stealers are unequivocally Krept & Konan, who provide a pair of low-slung, unflinchingly south London guest verses, alongside fast-rising MC-cum-vocalist Stefflon Don, who is mesmerising on the hook. An irresistible, strangely subdued after-hours roller.

Slaves
Hypnotised

Royal Tunbridge Wells’ answer to Death Grips here, with a fiery anti-establishment reminder that “video games are eating your brains”, yeah? The music packs all the punch of a Super Hans B-side and the lyrics simply echo the sentiments of every student union bar-dwelling stoner who ever bored you senseless ranting about “the scourge of reality TV”. That said, perhaps Slaves are the toothless punk band the all-mouth-no-action clicktivist generation deserves.

Justin Timberlake & Anna Kendrick
True Colors

Remember when Justin Timberlake was sort of cool? When you first heard Sexyback at a school disco and the pounding beat mingled with the smell of your hair gel and for a second you weren’t in primary education but instead a god among men? Remember when Justin Timberlake wasn’t releasing Cyndi Lauper covers tied in with kids’ movies? More sickly than the 18 tins of Quality Street you’ve gorged on this month.

Britney Spears ft Tinashe
Slumber Party

My memories of slumber parties were more stuffed-crust pizza and James Bond: Nightfire than corsets and coquettish foreplay, but in fairness I’m not sure we were working with the same budget as Britney and Tinashe when it came to sleepovers. This sultry banger is clearly the most fun Britney’s had in years, hampered only by the Ann Summers-meets-Ghostbusters aesthetic of the video.

Chemical Brothers
C-H-E-M-I-C-A-L

For those battered souls trapped in a constant acid flashback to Creamfields 1999 this might bring some joy, but for most it will be the musical equivalent of listening to your dad wax lyrical about the one time he did a pill at an outdoor rave in Shepton Mallet. Then again, props to any band who can get away with basing the lyrics of their songs on their own name. Nobody’s pulled that off with such aplomb since Lil’ Bow Wow.