For Alfie Templeman, that something is music. Watching Neil Peart perform in a Rush concert film struck an epiphany to his seven-year-old self, and the musician’s spirit manifested just as his father was encouraging him to pick up instruments. Now six years since Chess Club brought him in at fifteen, longevity has become the multi-instrumentalist’s ultimate goal – a career that gradually develops and culminates at just the right time. His 2022 debut Mellow Moon was a propitious start; hits like “3D Feelings” and “Candyfloss” have garnered enough attention for a possible future breakthrough, setting the stage for his next output.
Radiosoul channels a more mature part of Mellow Moon’s effervescent pop soundscape into its packed tracklist. Although once again filled with crowd pleasers like the euphoric maximalists “Eyes Wide Shut” and “Hello Lonely” – he has an ear for catchy and easy-to-digest melody – the new record houses some of Templeman’s greatest early-career highlights. “Vultures” has the neo-soul enigma with sensual drums and levitating riffs that resemble his generation’s fascination with nostalgia. He saves plenty of space for every part of the song to develop, thus wasting no potential peaks nor fruitful quirks, and its subtle, unhurried glide to the finish line makes up his music’s essential charisma.
Bubbly songs like this will likely secure long-term success in the sphere of synthpop; their energising capability can help broaden Templeman’s brand awareness if cards are played properly. One right move here is recruiting a powerhouse of established producers on Radiosoul. The interlude-like “Just a Dance” features legendary musician Nile Rodgers’s riffs that offer a fitting support to his belting vocals. Former BTS producer Charlie J. Perry constructs a dreamland with a humid electric guitar stem and a languid bassline on the marvellous title track. Oscar Scheller and Dan Carey, who worked with PinkPantheress and Squid respectively, also appear on some tracks. The results pay off – but sadly, not always.
With only ten tracks that clock in forty minutes, you might presume that Radiosoul would maintain its streak of captivating tunes from start to finish. The final leg, however, faces a cooldown that forgoes the riveting momentum set up earlier. “Submarine” steps on the familiar sun-bleached euro-pop territory, floating in starry-eyed romance that barely offers anything unique. Despite its instant appeal, the song lacks the replay value that stems from lyrical depth and musical intrigue. The beginning of “Switch”, whose lo-fi nuances resemble his self-released Ariel Days project, sounds like that ubiquitous intro music Youtubers who do get-ready-with-me and a-day-in-life content use.
The music occasionally loses its spark when it bears a striking similarity with other artists in the scene. “This Is Just the Beginning” and “Just a Dance,” while both a joy to listen to, startlingly recall Harry Styles’s more optimistic funk-pop pieces on Harry’s House. Things can get indistinguishable, but at an age where one can easily sound like another, it may be an influence that Templeman doesn’t wish to conceal. Radiosoul understandably doesn’t pretend to be radical in style. His identity remains in the mist, a potent star yet to arise, a minor upgrade from the debut as he suggested in the press. Sometimes, gradual progression hits the jackpot more certainly than a leap forward: suitably unobtrusive, but arresting when at its peak.
