Something Just Like This
The Chainsmokers
Built on a fingerpicked acoustic guitar figure that Coldplay wouldn't have written alone and a drop that isn't really a drop — a bright, wordless synth hook that lifts where a bass-heavy climax would normally hit — this is EDM's peace treaty with stadium rock. The production is deliberately airy: dry vocal up front, a soft pulsing pad, minimal low end until the chorus swells. Chris Martin's voice sits in his gentle upper register, almost conversational, with none of his usual falsetto strain. The lyric is a small, funny, genuinely warm idea: a woman lists superheroes and gods, and the narrator, comparing himself, admits he's nothing like Superman or Achilles — and she says she just wants somebody she can kiss. It's a love song about the relief of not having to be extraordinary, which is a strange and generous message from two acts operating at maximum commercial scale in 2017, the year the Chainsmokers pivoted from party-bro provocateurs to festival balladeers. It works for driving at dusk, for a wedding first dance chosen by people who don't want anything too heavy, for that late-in-the-night moment when a crowd sings a melody with no words in it.
medium
2010s
bright, airy
United States/United Kingdom
pop, EDM. pop-rock-EDM crossover. warm, sincere. relief at not needing to be extraordinary lifts into a wordless, uplifting instrumental swell. energy 6. medium. danceability 6. valence 7. vocals: gentle, conversational, restrained upper register. production: fingerpicked acoustic guitar, airy pulsing pad, wordless synth-hook drop. texture: bright, airy. acousticness 5. era: 2010s. United States/United Kingdom. driving at dusk, a wedding first dance, or a crowd singing a melody with no words