In the process of reviewing songs, sometimes you receive a project to review that you know is objectively great , but you might not actually incorporate into your oh-so perfectly curated playlists. Upon first listen of “Roller Skating” by Plunki, I knew this would not be the case. This dreamy Indietronica track is now on my daily rotation. Droplets of harp trickle into a smooth bedroom-pop beat as Plunki sings of a demure crush who they are yearning to get closer to.
You laugh but don’t let go / You dance with control
You’re scared but with a smile
The experience is universal – you see someone for the first time and experience that pang in your chest and an instant gravitation towards them. Over time you might get to know this person more intimately, however despite your best efforts, an emotional wall is firmly in place. In comparison to the elusive love interest, you seem to wear your heart on your sleeve. You can see that this person is trying their best to open up, but still holds their cards close to their chest. All you can do, really, is provide them the safety and space to do so…but your patience is wearing thin.
Let’s go roller-skatin’ / I’m sick of waitin
You can take my hand and we’ll glide
“Roller Skating” is sweet, but holds an impressive electro-complexity that does to your ears what popping candy does do the tongue. A cacophony of surprising tempo switches, pops of synth and quivering vocal effects collide in superb affectation, whispering hints of many genres but remaining coherent. 90s R&B, modern-day Pop and Lo-fi come to call, conjuring the magic of city-living – romanticized life in an concrete landscape that could be anywhere in the world. This sense of placeless-ness, along with each surprising production flutter add to its dreamy ambience; unsettling and unexpected, but wondrous. We see this halfway through the song when the tempo switches up – soft drums glint and quicken like a heartbeat when you are with a crush. Before we are left satisfied and allowed to get used to this change, the pace slows again. Its jarring, and you can feel it in your chest. Plunki then takes on a rap cadence, venting their frustrations before effortlessly gliding into a falsetto chorus– we feel euphoric once more. Perhaps, this mimics each propellant and setback in her interactions with this person of interest.
With a crystalline pop voice, Plunki is reminiscent of Beth Cornell of the band Litany, soft to the ears but powerful when needed, and impressively controlled. The end of the song is particularly elating, choral Ooh! ‘s repeat and overlaying cascading synths, Plunki increasing in pitch and pace with youthful urgency. Each sonic embellishment of the song comes together then fades out with the harp like the song begun, tempo steadying back to the cruisy glide of a roller-skate ride in the city park.
