In 1995, as violence and ethnic strife tore apart the former Yugoslavia, the urgency of the crisis gave a group of peace activists an idea: record a benefit compilation in one day, mix it the next, and have it on shelves before the end of the week. Masterminded by nonprofit organization War Child and produced by Brian Eno, the album brought together a motley group of big-ticket artists—Radiohead, the Chemical Brothers, the Stone Roses, Paul McCartney—and raised over a million pounds for children caught in the Bosnian war. Like many charity compilations, the album doubles as a retroactive time capsule of Britpop’s heyday: Both Oasis and Blur contributed tracks the same year they were fighting for chart dominance. The Help Album was so successful that it inspired War Child to continue with a series of follow-ups; it has been nearly two decades since the last compilation, 2009’s War Child Presents Heroes, and with mounting crises in Gaza, Sudan, and the Ukraine, War Child Head of Music Rich Clarke decided it was time for another compilation.
For HELP(2), Clarke approached British producer James Ford, whose clientele mainly consists of acts from the upper stratosphere of British alternative rock: Arctic Monkeys, Depeche Mode, Foals. Where Help was steeped in Britpop, HELP(2) expands to virtually everyone who’s ever come near the BBC Radio 6 A-list, including Ford’s aforementioned associates and even some Americans: Olivia Rodrigo, Big Thief, and Cameron Winter all make appearances. Last November, those musicians and dozens more gathered for a week at Abbey Road Studios. As if the stakes weren’t high enough, Ford, diagnosed with leukemia in 2024, fell ill and directed sessions through his laptop post-blood transfusion. By some miracle, the 24-track behemoth works on its own. It’s frequently beautiful and shockingly consistent, given the range of artists involved, and almost every artist brings their best efforts.
No score yet, be the first to add.
From his earliest days as a member of Simian Mobile Disco, Ford has favored a dry, drum-forward mix: his recordings both sound live and suspiciously polished, to the point where even his Florence and the Machine production “Moderation” uses minimal reverb. In a chaotic week, a steady hand like that can be an asset; there’s no time for overthinking. (A forthcoming documentary by Zone of Interest director Jonathan Glazer, who had the idea to view the sessions from a child’s eye, added to the chaos: It’s hard to be too serious with camcorder-wielding children running amok.) Spontaneity and naturalism characterize much of the album, even on songs by artists not necessarily known for those qualities. The Last Dinner Party can sound stiff on record, but their extremely Bowie-esque “Let’s Do It Again” benefits from its loose, playful recording, right down to an unexpected last-second tempo change. A collaboration between Damon Albarn, Fontaines D.C.’s Grian Chatten, and rapper Kae Tempest, “Flags” is less fussy than Albarn’s other heavily collaborative project; in fact, it’s surprisingly laid back, even when multiple choirs join in at the end. That’s just one of several team-ups; the most moving is the penultimate track, “Sunday Light”: Primarily an Anna Calvi song, it starts like a solitary prayer to a young boy until the trio of Ellie Rowsell (of Wolf Alice), Nilüfer Yanya, and Dove Ellis offer support, a soprano-alto-tenor combination shrouded in reverb.
