Painkiller

Joy Crookes turns romantic self-deception into something unusually elegant on “Painkiller,” a bruised, slow-burning soul record featuring Denzel Curry. Written after what Crookes has described as a destructive relationship, the song pairs her smoky, conversational delivery with sweeping strings, piano, live drums and bass, while its production nods to ’90s hip-hop without losing the warmth of classic soul. Crookes sounds less heartbroken than clear-eyed, picking apart the kind of relationship where attraction keeps outrunning good judgment, and Curry’s tightly controlled verse arrives late enough to feel like a change in perspective rather than a obligatory rap feature. The collaboration works because neither artist crowds the other: Crookes carries the emotional weight, while Curry adds grit to a record already balancing vulnerability with self-awareness. It is a deceptively smooth song about knowing better and staying anyway.