Rose Gray – ‘Louder, Please’ review: transcendence and escapism from London’s underground raves

15 January, 2025

Rose Gray, photo by Vasso Vu

Born on New Year’s Eve, there’s a touch of destiny about the way Rose Gray has embraced club culture. The vocalist, producer and DJ, who hails from Walthamstow, London, spent her teen years chasing a flawed pop star dream, before realising that the image she was being moulded into – and the accompanying music – didn’t represent her true self. But when London’s rich electronic scene came calling at the turn of her twenties, there was no looking back.

She has since grown to live and breathe that lifestyle, which has effortlessly shaped the palatable house and sultry rave-pop on her latest EPs ‘Synchronicity’ (2022) and ‘Higher Than The Sun’ (2023). These sound palettes pierce even deeper into the underground on Gray’s debut album ‘Louder, Please’, which lands as her stock continues to rise, following collaborations with TSHA, Ben Helmsley and a personal invite from Mel C to perform at Sporty Spice’s 50th birthday party.

Mysterious, discomforting opener ‘Damn’ is worlds apart from the summery sounds we’ve become used to, as Gray’s voice distorts like a whining toddler: “Won’t you turn it up a little louder, please?” Meanwhile, that familiar sunny euphoria returns in the form of the escapist ‘Free’ and the Ibiza-friendly ‘Wet & Wild’, which balances its mouthful of a verse with a swirling chorus.

The loved-up throbbing bounce of ‘Just Two’ might be Gray’s most addictive track to date, although the following one-two of ‘Tectonic’ and ‘Party People’ – an ode to those strangers who become the main characters of your night out – risks the album falling into rinse and repeat territory for a moment. ‘Angel Of Satisfaction’ dispels that notion, carrying a pulse that would give every bassline on Dua Lipa’s ‘Future Nostalgia’ a run for its money.

‘Hackney Wick’ – perhaps east London’s answer to Confidence Man cult classic ‘C.O.O.L. Party’ – is refreshingly immediate and lucid (“I hear the bass, the music, and I succumb”), while ‘First’ represents Gray’s confident first foray into the liquid drum ‘n’ bass sound that has blown up the likes of Charlotte Plank and Venbee.

On ‘Louder, Please’, Gray’s music has finally caught up with her lifestyle. The crackly sounds of the underground finally have their unfiltered moments, while her long-standing pop sensibilities still retain their place through respectable chorus hooks and addictive melodies (her classical vocal training is also clear for all to see). Gray has too many strings to her bow to lay down one overarching, definitive statement. As such, ‘Louder, Please’ is more of a dare than an instruction: follow her down this rabbit hole, and brace yourself for where she ends up.