Deptford Sound Collective moonwalks in the room for a quick dance. Hailing from South East London, this loose-knit crew of musicians, artists, and community activists debuts with “Give Me. Give Me . Give Me, I want it all”, a disco-fuelled parody that looks shiny on the surface but bites hard underneath. Dropping on Valentine’s Day 2026, the timing is no accident, because they are choosing love over hate, glitter over fear, humour as protest.
The track kicks off with a sly, suspenseful intro, like something’s about to go down, and then—bang—the beat comes pumping, unapologetically disco, strutting straight out of the ’80s. When the vocal enters, it’s a masterstroke of satire. It’s tender, juicy, and deliberately over-the-top, delivered to caricature Donald Trump, with his tone, with his actions, and whatever he’s been doing lately, from seizing Venezuela’s president for oil to threatening to invade Greenland. She sings like she’s flirting with power itself, sometimes crooning, sometimes soaring into full-belt theatrics, and always landing the joke. Just the way Trump goes, she sings about wanting countries “one by one like gold” and hoarding oil, diamonds, whales, and minds twist greed into a catchy, chant-ready hook that’s impossible to shake.
Musically, the song doesn’t skimp. The beat hits hard, the instrumentation swells vividly, and everything is engineered to move bodies, whether on a club floor or halfway through a TikTok dance challenge. But beneath the glitter ball is a clear message. By mocking entitlement and authoritarian smugness, the song flips protest into pop, echoing the spirit of 1960s protest anthems while speaking the language of now. It’s satire with teeth, wrapped in sequins.
As the chorus loops—“give me, give me, give me”—it becomes less about the voice singing and more about the mirror it holds up. What makes “Give Me. Give Me . Give Me, I want it all” work is that it dances, jokes, and grooves to drive its point home. Because resistance comes in all forms and shapes and sometimes, just needs a killer beat and the nerve to laugh back.
Review by: Naomi Joan