
Girls of the Internet follow up their acclaimed 2019 debut SYRUP—which made BBC Radio 6 Music’s Albums of the Year list—with Girls FM, a self-released sophomore album on their own GOTI Records. Dropped on Bandcamp Friday, 6th November 2020, it was picked out in DJ Mag’s Bandcamp essentials of the day, with streaming to follow shortly after. Framed around pirate-radio and community-radio culture, and wrapped in a drag-queen-inspired painted artwork, it’s a future-facing house-and-soul statement supported by the likes of Gilles Peterson, Mary Anne Hobbs, The Blessed Madonna and Motor City Drum Ensemble.
Intro sets the dial with a crackling station sign-on of jingles, static and disembodied radio voices, planting the record firmly inside its community-radio conceit. Then the dancefloor takes over: I Don’t Wanna Lose You - Edit struts in on a glossy four-to-the-floor groove with a warm, disco-leaning bassline and a hook you can imagine a whole room singing back, whilst Infinite Harmony - Edit lifts the mood with filtered pads and a rolling, optimistic rhythm.
By My Side and Time sit at the album’s emotional core. Time spends its four-and-a-half minutes patiently, layering reverb-drenched keys with a dusty, soulful vocal that sounds as though it’s being broadcast from another era, whilst By My Side settles into a more intimate, heads-down groove. Familiar Place leans into piano chords and expressive sax, its stripped-back arrangement letting the warmth breathe, and Shelter Me From The Storm builds towards a gospel-tinged chorus without ever overplaying its hand.
The second half digs deeper. IDK works a skippier, more minimal rhythm; On My Own stretches into the record’s longest, slow-burning moment; and I Need Protection cloaks a pleading vocal in brooding pads and sub-bass. Falling Through offers a moment of airy release before closer Let Go signs off the broadcast with a final, bittersweet chorus of soulful voices—a fitting end for an album that never forgets it’s speaking to a community.
Girls FM arrived during a strange and isolating autumn, and it’s hard to imagine a record better suited to it. It’s not the most radical house album you’ll hear this year, but its craft is undeniable: the basslines are warm and purposeful, the drums loose enough to feel human, and the vocals are treated with a reverence bordering on devotional. A warm, generous broadcast from a group at the top of their game.



















