Girl Talk - All Day
- Written by Russell Warfield
We should all know by now what to expect from a new Girl Talk record. Disparate samples blended into fifteen second mash up fragments, melded into one hour long beat collage. All Day does little to mess with this formula, and arguably leaves Girl Talk open to the criticism of going back to the well one too many times. But, in my estimation, to criticise Greg Gillis for putting out another of this type of effortlessly party-starting record is a bit like criticising a stand up comic’s new routine because it’s just another collection of jokes. And indeed it would seem that a lot of people find themselves in agreement with me on this point: All Day broke the fucking internet when it dropped last week, thanks to the frantic eagerness of so, so many people wanting to get their ears on it. If all those people wanted another slice of the Girl Talk we know and love, then they’ve been satisfied. Opening with Black Sabbath mashed with Ludacris, All Day immediately announces itself as one fun hour.
But just because Greg hasn’t reinvented himself on this record doesn’t mean that All Day doesn’t demonstrate some indications of progression and maturity. Oft-times on his last record Feed The Animals, the periods of transition made themselves glaringly obvious; awkwardly trying to line up the next rhythm, throwing in a few throwaway vocal snippets to cover the joins. You got the sense that Greg was only interested in swinging from one massive set piece to the next, paying little heed to how well they dovetailed in the middle. On All Day we get fewer awkward transitory periods; the thing moves with a smoother flow, and a more cumulative sense of momentum. As Thom Yorke hits the massive note in 'Creep', to take one example, the slippery beat begins to melt away from under him, allowing the swing groove of the next section to bubble under the surface, ready to take the baton. Last time around, a few bars of disjointed beat splicing would have made for an unwelcome buffer between the two sections.
There’s also a thing or to be said about Girl Talk’s employment of Big Moments during this new record. Of course, the Biggest of Girl Talk’s Big Moments is almost undoubtedly 'Tiny Dancer' mashed with 'Juicy' – a seismic collision of two mega-hits. These days, Gillis is less enchanted by the novelty of unlikely bedfellows. But the fact that there’s a lessening sense of universal recognition makes the moments of personal recognition all the sweeter. A highlight for me comes in the form of Fugazi’s 'Waiting Room' (a song very dear to me back when I was a fifteen year old punkrocker in mid-Wales) melded with Rhianna’s 'Rude Boy' (a song dear to me now that I’m only some those things). It’s the way in which Girl Talk so effectively taps into a sense of personal musical nostalgia, whilst bringing it into contact with the fresh and contemporary that makes his beats so engaging and – let’s not shy away from using the word again – fun.
I’m anxious that I might’ve overstated the differences between All Day and its predecessors – it’s essentially more of the glorious same as far as Girl Talk is concerned, and that’s absolutely fine by me. It’s not the sort of thing which bears – or even invites – over analysis (just turn it up and enjoy it, idiot), so it’s irritating that people are already getting into a pointless internet argument about this album vs. Feed The Animals/Night Ripper. It’s a circular debate, and pretty much a moot point. Your favourite Girl Talk album is pretty likely to be whichever one you hear first – if you’re new to the Girl Talk party, All Day is more than worthy of becoming yours.