Bon Jovi, Forever ★★★☆☆
There are just seven seconds before the first “woah-oh” on Forever – but if this is a paint-by-numbers Bon Jovi album, it’s not quite the glam-metal gleam that made the New Jerseyites’ name 40 years ago. You’ve got to hand it to singer Jon Bon Jovi, though. For someone who underwent major surgery on an atrophied vocal cord two years ago and still can’t – may never – sing live, the tireless 62-year-old has managed to produce an album of cheery, wholehearted songs, with bouffant-hair-sized hooks and stratospherically uplifting chords: precisely what people want from the veteran heartland rockers.
Album opener Legendary mentions the kind of enduring hits – Neil Diamond’s Sweet Caroline, Van Morrison’s Brown Eyed Girl – Bon Jovi share the airwaves with on classic rock radio, and the rest of the album treads similar dad-rock territory. Guitarist and brother-in-arms Richie Sambora remains absent, but plenty of band hallmarks linger, most notably the talk box that defined their 1986 monster, Livin’ On A Prayer. Third track Living Proof, recently described by Bon Jovi as “the rock song you’ve been waiting for”, features so much talk box it sounds like Livin’ On A Prayer put through a washing machine. Another reach-for-the-rafters track, Walls of Jericho, contains the same kind of singalong thwack as You Give Love A Bad Name, though it’s more Christian-rock-meets-Bruce-Springsteen than that early single.
Bon Jovi is a bit like Springsteen’s bouncy younger cousin. Livin’ On A Prayer took the stadium-sized blue-collar anthems of Born in the USA (which also turned 40 this week) to revved-up, dumbed-down perfection, and Bon Jovi’s music has never tried to suppress or hide Springsteen’s continuing influence. Two tracks on Forever – Living Proof and Seeds – share titles with Springsteen songs, while The People’s House borrows a fair amount of imagery from his 2012 album Wrecking Ball.
And, like Springsteen, Bon Jovi indulges in a little personal reflection: he recalls being 17 and “playing old Kiss records” on My First Guitar, and playing in pre-fame “Jersey shore cover bands” on We Made It Look Easy. You want more of this biographical detail, less of the “raise my hands up to the sky” Westlife platitudes that drown out the album’s best moments – and absolutely none of the saccharine Kiss The Bride, destined to soundtrack many a future wedding.
Forever is exactly the kind of record you’d expect from Jon Bon Jovi at this stage of his career: reflective, lightweight, a bit tinnier than those glam-metal hits. It’s an albumthat will remind some why they can’t stand Bon Jovi, and others why they love the band: those fond of heartfelt hooks and earnest choruses are in luck. “One more time, with feeling,” he repeats on Walls of Jericho, just as he demanded on their 1988 hit Bad Medicine. You sense that, four decades on, this certainly won’t be the last time he says it. Kate French-Morris
Charli XCX, Brat ★★★★★
For more than a decade, Charli XCX has operated on the fringes of megastardom. I Love It, her 2012 collaboration with Swedish synth-pop duo Icona Pop, was an international hit, but her debut album True Romance flopped. It’s been a cycle of ups and downs ever since: a handful of other radio-friendly hits (Boom Clap and Doing It) and two Grammy nominations (for Fancy, with Iggy Azalea) failed to establish her as an easily marketable commercial entity.
Instead, she’s found her musical home in rave subcultures and the LGBTQ community, who have long since celebrated her fusion of electro-beats and borderline nonsensical, flippant lyrics. Operating in those spaces has allowed the 31-year-old to continue performing at relatively small venues and festivals – though she will headline London’s O2 Arena later this year – and establish herself as a ferocious live performer who, above all, remains accessible and relatable. She’s the sort of fun-loving party girl everybody wants to be; the status that originally made her peer Dua Lipa a star, before she retreated into the blank security of fame.
A penchant for hedonism doesn’t mean that Brat, Charli’s sixth studio album, is a shiny mass of nothingness – far from it. In fact, it’s a courageous, candid reflection on how dreadful it can feel to constantly be the “cool girl”, the one who laughs off failure, or pretends not to care what the critics think. On Euro-trash thumper Rewind, she admits she “used to never think about Billboard [the US chart] / Now, I started thinking again / Wondering ‘bout whether I think I deserve commercial success”. I Might Say Something Stupid takes her down the Billie Eilish-route of introspection, as she strips back the thudding basslines to their barest bones, singing about her uncertain future in the industry.
Of course, Brat has its fair share of club anthems: Mean Girls sounds like if a David Guetta ‘00s chart-topper was doused in acid and cigarette ash; 360 sets her up as the perennial centre of attention, breezing through parties (“I’m everywhere / I’m so Julia [Fox, the model and actress]”. Club Classics is now the track I’m most excited to see at Glastonbury: a vivid alien space-trip to another, better world where fun is the first priority, the music’s loud and tiredness doesn’t exist. Finally, Charli has crafted a perfect pop album (with the help of the most in-demand producer in the business, AG Cook). Brat is authentic, sensitive, and you’ll be raring to go out once you’ve finished listening. Poppie Platt
Aurora, What Happened to the Heart? ★★★★★
Aurora sang in her 2022 release that she was “given a heart before I was given a mind”. The 27-year-old Norweigian star’s latest album, What happened to the Heart?, aims to reconnect with that deeper part of herself, inspired by a 2022 letter written by indigenous activists urging politicians across the world to govern with conscience; to lead with the heart.
Considering themes of global unity, climate change, and capitalism, as well as her own personal grief and loss, the singer blends emotive, simple lyrics with sounds borrowed from pop, techno, folk, and classical, including choral singing on ethereal track Earthly Delights. Fittingly, Aurora credits “the earth” for royalty purposes so that environmental charities can benefit.
Aurora has said she wrote this album only in places where she felt “unsafe”, and it is clear she has found strength in the discomfort. Reckoning with self-destructive feelings of fear, dissociation and anger, the album is a journey to personal healing, ending with the gentle song Invisible Wounds, which evokes the image of Aurora tending to her wounds, stitching her heart back up. If only the earth could do the same. Lauren Shirreff
Peggy Gou, I Hear You
In electronic music, few can rival the presence of Peggy Gou. The 32-year-old South Korean was the first Korean to DJ at legendary Berlin club Berghain, has played Glastonbury and Coachella, and today releases her debut album I Hear You, drawing inspiration from various corners of the ‘90s club music landscape.
On lead single (It Goes Like) Na Na Na, arguably the definitive dance hit of 2023, Gou reconstructs the dancefloor euphoria of vocal house classics like Snap!’s Rhythm is a Dancer and Ultra Naté’s Free. Tracks Back to One and Lobster Telephone also pay homage to the electronic sounds of decades past, the latter’s crude synths and punchy drum programming particularly reminiscent of the music of late ‘80s Chicago.
On Seoulsi Peggygou, she makes a rare venture into drum and bass, pairing busy breakbeats with delicate gayageum, a traditional Korean string instrument.Gou also nods to hip-hop on All That, combining Puerto Rican rapper Villano Antillano’s sultry rhymes with groovy bass and boom-bap drums. The producer’s excellent hook writing is again the star of the show here, singing in Spanish “when he looks at me, it’s all that I can see”, and the album’s lowest moments – namely its final three tracks – come in the absence of those hooks, as slightly uninventive instrumentals are laid bare by a lack of memorable vocal help.
While there is room for improvement, I Hear You is an impressive debut album, tackling a multitude of genres with remarkable confidence. It’s yet another step in the right direction for Peggy Gou. Luke Seaman
Songs of the Week
By Poppie Platt
Divorce, My Room
The latest single from the hyped Nottingham alt-country band is produced by indie favourite Catherine Marks (boygenius, Wolf Alice) and expertly builds from slow fury to wailing anger. They’re well worth checking out live at this summer’s festivals, too.
Johnny Cash, Spotlight
On June 28, the world will be treated to an album of previously unreleased songs by the late, great country singer (recorded in 1993). Second single Spotlight – featuring a bluesy guitar solo from The Black Keys’ Dan Auerbach – reminds us exactly what we’ve been missing without Cash around, particularly his gravelly voice, withholding layer upon layer of emotion and weariness, that sounds like the dearest of old friends.
Sabrina Carpenter, Please Please Please
Riding high off the back of five weeks at the top of the UK charts with Espresso, the hottest product in pop music returns with an infectious, beachy ballad perfect for summer – roping in Jack Antonoff (best known for his work with Taylor Swift, Carpenter’s mentor and friend) on production and Oscar-nominated boyfriend Barry Keoghan for the music video.
Soccer Mommy, Lost
The US indie singer’s first new single since 2022’s evocative album Sometimes Forever sees her strip things back to music’s barest bones – soft voice, acoustic guitar – to craft a tender reflection on following your dreams; and cutting yourself a bit of slack when it doesn’t always go to plan.
