On first listen, Christian Kuria’s newest single recycles the same trend-chasing premise done to death since Surfaces became a viral hit: a looping guitar riff of reverb, lo-fi languor and longing, the “good vibes” of Sunny Surfing SoCal (Plot twist: He’s actually based in San Francisco, but listen to enough PCH-ready pop, and the vicarious experience is enough). Bossa nova pastiche is the only ingredient missing from making “Enemy” a cookbook replica of “24/7/365,” but for Kuria, less is more.
In exchange of pseudo-Jamaican patois and crowded verses with the same melody on repeat, Kuria makes sparseness lush, a rippling echo here, sun-dappled background harmonies there, a simple and unchanging drum machine as the rhythmic foundation beneath.
It’s the surrender to love, a crooning voice washed into a blur of warmth and desire that could prove to be fatal: “Girl, you make me feel like an enemy/ I know it’ll kill me eventually.” But the saying is as it goes: keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.
SIMILAR SONGS
