Noga Erez - Kids (LP)

Noga Erez’s second album, Kids, arrived in March 2021 on City Slang and felt like a shot of high‑definition pop from Tel Aviv in a year that sorely needed some nerves and wit. She made it with long‑time collaborator Ori Rousso, and you can hear that tight partnership in every corner of the record. The beats land with intent, the hooks cut clean, and there’s a lived‑in sense of craft behind the glitz. It’s pop with teeth, hip‑hop muscle, and a restless electronic streak that keeps you leaning forward.

The title hints at big questions. Erez has spoken about legacy and the strange responsibility that comes with imagining future generations, and Kids tackles that without losing its taste for a chorus that sticks. “No News on TV” bottles the strange hush of lockdown life into something you can nod along to, an almost breezy tune with a clenched jaw just beneath the surface. Then “You So Done” storms in like a courtroom verdict, all clipped rhythm and razor‑edged melody, the kind of track that makes you square your shoulders a bit taller on the tram. It’s a breakup song, sure, but it also reads like a broader reckoning with anyone banking on complacency.

“VIEWS” is a swaggering highlight, helped by a sharp feature from Reo Cragun that slides in like a second wind. The track bounces between head‑spinning percussion and rubbery bass, with Erez deadpan one second and gleefully taunting the next. “End of the Road” deals with mortality with a wink, and its striking video, directed by Indy Hait, turns a funeral procession into something slyly celebratory. Erez and Hait have a strong visual language together, and it suits the album’s habit of smiling as it bares its teeth.

What keeps Kids replayable is how it balances muscle and mischief. The title track comes on like a pep rally for misfits, stacked with claps, chants, and synths that squelch and spring. “Story” pulls the tempo back and leans on atmosphere, giving Ori Rousso a cameo that feels like a wry interlude rather than a detour. Across the album, Erez’s voice is the anchor. She can flip from conspiratorial whisper to clipped rap to an airy hook in the space of a bar, and the production leaves room for each move to land. You hear flashes of influences from global pop and left‑field hip‑hop, but she twists them into her own geometry.

The sound design rewards decent speakers. Kicks are taut, snares snap, and the low end carries a pleasing weight without turning muddy. That makes this a tidy pick for the turntable too. The punchy drums and wide vocal stacks really bloom on vinyl, so if you’re crate‑digging, Kids vinyl is an easy recommendation. If you’re looking to buy Noga Erez records online, keep an eye out for City Slang pressings, which tend to be reliable. Noga Erez vinyl tends to move faster than you’d expect for an artist this left of centre, so don’t sleep on it if you spot a copy. And if you’re trawling a Melbourne record store this weekend, it’s the kind of sleeve that jumps out at you from the new arrivals bin.

Reception was strong on release, with outlets like NME picking up on how tightly the album locks personal snapshots to political static. It’s also worth noting how completely the songs translate when stripped back. Later in 2021, Erez reimagined the material as Kids (Against the Machine), swapping electronics for a live, lean setup that underlined the strength of the writing. Not every pop record can survive that treatment. This one does, which says plenty about the bones beneath the sparkle.

What lingers after a few spins is the record’s sense of conversation, like Erez is talking with you rather than at you. She’s funny, sceptical, and big‑hearted, and she keeps the tempo up even when the topics get heavy. If you’re building a shelf of Noga Erez albums on vinyl, this sits right next to her debut as proof that she’s not a one‑trick artist. For those of us in the habit of hunting vinyl records Australia wide, Kids is the kind of modern pop album that sounds current now and will still feel fresh when you pull it out again in a few years, dust off the sleeve, and let those drums rattle the room.