What if War Child Records’ 1995 charity compilation album, “Help,” was followed up in 2026? What if Depeche Mode and Big Thief worked on a project together? What if Cameron Winter kind of half-assed it? What if Arctic Monkeys made music that actually sounded good? “Help (2)” brings these hypotheticals, which have been swimming in our collective consciousness since 1995, to reality.
“Help (2),” like its predecessor, is a charity album, sending proceeds to aid for children in war zones. But, unlike its predecessor, it features Beabadoobee covering “Say Yes” by Elliot Smith. Most songs on the album are unified by a persistent anti-war theme, which unites them with the mission of the record label.
What is most impressive to me about the album is the way it subverted so many of my expectations. I expected to dislike many of the songs because they’re from bands that are bad, like Arctic Monkeys — but, here, I was surprised. Arctic Monkeys, of “stop making the eyes at me and I’ll stop making the eyes at you” acclaim, released the opening track, appropriately called “Opening Night.” This song starts with the whining and breathy vocals that the band seems to think sound good, but the chorus is strong enough that it made me go back and listen to the other four Arctic Monkeys songs I like (yes, they’re the four most popular ones). I truly wasn’t expecting much from the band’s new work, but “Opening Night” is now my favorite Arctic Monkeys song and my second favorite on the “Help (2)” album. I liked the song so much that it inspired me to deeply reflect on my preconceived musical biases.
One song that I did not like, despite expecting to, was Cameron Winter’s “Warning.” I am only mildly ashamed to admit that I do really like Cameron Winter and his band, Geese; however, “Warning” feels like someone tried to parody Cameron Winter. I don’t think the song is necessarily bad, but it did not, at any point, grab me. The song is interesting, with lots of fun texture and background elements, but it doesn’t go anywhere. Cameron Winter doesn’t sing so much as talk, and it feels less akin to a song off of “Heavy Metal,” and more like he’s reading the listener an audiobook or a slam poem.
Olivia Rodrigo’s contribution to the album came as another surprise. I’m no Olivia Rodrigo hater, but I wasn’t expecting much from her song. I was mistaken. Olivia Rodrigo’s contribution to “Help (2)” is a cover of “The Book of Love,” by The Magnetic Fields. I know people who would most likely kill me with a hammer were I to claim that Rodrigo’s cover is better than the original, so I will skirt around saying this directly by saying that her vocal style is surprisingly well suited to the song and that she presents an energized new take on the classic. One version of “The Book of Love” is saved to my “Liked Songs” and the other one isn’t. It’s up to you to decide.
We live in a crazy world, where sometimes the greatest artists make mediocre music. With great sadness in my heart, I admit to you, dear reader, that Big Thief’s “Relive, Redie” didn’t do anything for me. I wasn’t even tapping my foot. Since I’m already being brave and admitting my faults, I’ll double down and confess that I didn’t really care for Big Thief’s newest album, “Double Infinity,” either. It was too happy and, in my opinion, Big Thief shouldn’t make you feel happy. Ultimately, “Relive, Redie” felt very much in line with the tone set by “Double Infinity,” which is not to say it was bad, it just didn’t live up to the other songs on “Help (2).”
More than anything, “Help (2)” serves to demonstrate that, despite being in their 60’s and missing a member, Depeche Mode can mercilessly musically frame mog Cameron Winter, or anybody foolish enough to think they can also be British and make music. Their contribution, “Universal Soldier,” sounds like it might as well be straight off of their classic album “Violator.” For me, it was the absolute highlight of the album. The digital instrumentals have a punchy bassiness, reminiscent of Massive Attack mixed with the synthesized energy of Depeche Mode’s earlier works. The lyrics also directly address the antiwar subject that unites the album thematically. At some points, I’ll admit that the writing is a bit unsubtle and largely conveys the not-exactly-revolutionary take that war is bad and peace is good, but considering that Depeche Mode is old and they’re trying their best, the words still carry weight.
I’ve written a lot about a few of the biggest surprises on the album, but I haven’t said much about the substance of the compilation as a whole. I believe that it’s very strong. Many songs weren’t surprises at all, for example, Black Country, New Road’s contribution, “Strangers,” is an amazing piece, with all of the playfulness and energy that the band is known for. Other songs which stood out to me were “Parasite” by English Teacher and Graham Coxon, “Sunday Light” by Anna Calvi, Nilüfer Yanya and Dove Ellis (the GOAT) and “Let’s Do It Again!” by The Last Dinner Party. I wouldn’t consider any of the songs on the album actually bad; I just disliked some due to my personal tastes and illogical biases, and thus they aren’t worth naming.
War Child Records is using funds from this album to support children living in war zones. They are partnered with local organizations in 13 countries, including Palestine, Colombia and Ukraine. Their website has further details on where proceeds go and ways they help. Check out this album, and if you like it, consider buying a physical copy. It is heartening to see how so many artists came through to make great music in the name of charity. Listen to “Help (2),” and then draft a handwritten letter to Depeche Mode thanking them for ending war worldwide.
