It’s just after midnight when »Disparate Youth« starts to enfold, when the airy snyths glide over the beat. »Oh, we said our dreams will carry us and if they don’t fly, we will run.« The night has long swallowed the pressing heat of the day, and somewhere someone’s left a window open, from which »Master Of My Make-Believe« echoes into the streets. It took Santi White four years to finish her debut’s successor. Apart from Diplo, Dave Sitek and Q-Tip also helped with the productions on a few tracks, but that’s not what the different sound is all about. Because Santigold has grown as an artist, has found the very track on the nerve of zeitgeist. When »Fame« strikes with a scepter or when »Big Mouth« inflates bit by bit, it doesn’t really get much better. And then »The Keepers« arrives, the rhythm gallops under Santigold’s lyrics before the whole track bursts into flames. The hook spirals up almost anthem-like, is easy to jump on, then turns out to be not that easy after all while remaining to be incredible all at the same time. Santigold knows how to unite Pop, Soul, ElectroPop, Hip Hop and basically anything which sits on the pulse of popularity – all that in an unagitated and relaxed manner. »Master Of My Make-Believe« keeps rotating and rotating, growing and growing. The old days’ force is simply situated on a lower level on this album. And while the lights of the city slowly start to glow, the sun is coming out again and carefully spills itself all over the walls of the room. »I heard it for a moment now, the riot’s gone, the riot’s gone.« There won’t be a moment in which you’ll feel more alive, and even if it pains you, it goes on – on and on.