All Night (feat. Ally Brooke)

"All Night" is constructed around a single emotional proposition: the particular recklessness of a night that feels infinite. Afrojack's production is glossy and kinetic, all sharp hi-hats, punchy kick drums, and synth lines that spiral upward with the insistence of a crowd being whipped toward release. Ally Brooke's vocal sits bright and clear in the mix — girlish but not fragile, carrying an earnest conviction that sells the fantasy without irony. Her delivery is clean pop precision, landing each hook with the kind of confidence that makes arena sing-alongs feel inevitable. Lyrically the song refuses to interrogate the night — it just demands you stay inside it, extending the present tense indefinitely, which is exactly the emotional contract of peak festival pop. The production crescendos and releases in the expected places, but Afrojack's skill is in the texture of those moments — there's a thickness to the drops that feels physical, the kind of sound that registers in the chest. This is music for sunrises you weren't supposed to see, for the specific triumph of outlasting your own exhaustion. Put it on when the night needs a second wind.