The pedigree is worth dwelling on for a moment. Cullen's earlier outfit TAXI built a genuine following on the strength of records that mixed jazz sensibility with electronic nerve, before the whole thing imploded in spectacularly unglamorous fashion. Rather than sulk about it, he built The Natural Curve from the wreckage: a project stubborn enough to refuse a single genre, comfortable slipping between house, drum & bass, funk and downbeat, held together by real instrumentation — bass, keys, horns — layered over production that never overreaches. That restraint is the whole trick. Cullen understands that the emptiest-sounding synth line can carry more feeling than a wall of noise, provided the arrangement gives it room to breathe.

"Silly Girl" finds him leaning into retro synth-pop, all shimmering analogue tones and a rhythm section that struts rather than pounds. It's the most overtly pop moment of his catalogue, and it suits him. But the real revelation here is his new collaborator, Liberty Taylor, a twenty-year-old vocalist plucked from a Norwich stage production and thrown, evidently without hesitation, into the deep end of a recording session in North Norfolk. Her voice carries the track with a confidence that belies her years — playful, a little defiant, entirely unbothered by the weight of Cullen's résumé. She doesn't sing around the production so much as needle it, teasing out its hooks and daring the melody to keep up with her. It's a genuinely exciting pairing: seasoned craftsmanship meeting fearless youth, and neither party blinking first.

What lingers after the track ends is its lightness of touch. Nothing on "Silly Girl" feels laboured. The synths glimmer rather than blare, the chorus lands without being hammered into your skull, and the whole thing wears its three minutes and change like a well-cut jacket — nothing wasted, nothing overdone. Cullen has spent decades working with heavyweight collaborators and earning the respect of DJs who don't hand out praise lightly, and you can hear that accumulated instinct here, applied with a lighter hand than his back catalogue might suggest he's capable of.

It would be easy to file this under nostalgia — retro synths, a youthful pop voice, a producer old enough to remember when this sound was new the first time round. But that would undersell how fresh "Silly Girl" actually feels. This isn't pastiche; it's a producer who has absorbed decades of genre-hopping and distilled it into something disarmingly simple and enormously likeable. Cullen has always chased soul in unlikely corners of electronic music, and here, paired with a singer bold enough to match his instincts, he finds it in the most unassuming of pop songs. A joyful, confident return, and a genuine introduction to a vocalist worth watching.