And Almost-All-Country Tuesday ends with what can only be described as the ‘almost’ bit…

[Video][Myspace]
[5.67]

Martin Skidmore: If you’ve been thinking “I really miss James, but I wish they had emphasised their folky tendencies more”, you’re in luck. I had not been thinking that. This lot have stiffer singing and a weaker song. It’s hard to resist saying Stornaway are wet and windy — some bands ask for it.
[2]

Matt Cibula: Is this post-jangle? Am I insane for thinking that these guys might be the mutant cloned offspring of the Proclaimers? Is it okay if I like this a whole lot but would probably never really want to hear it again?
[6]

Ian Mathers: This is completely harmless, for better or worse. Mostly worse; it has all the emotional impact of a random Livejournal entry, and unless you really love the idea of a neutered Frightened Rabbit I don’t imagine the music will do much for you either.
[4]

Anthony Easton: I am a sucker for this kind of semi-folk indie nonsense, and the lack of propulsion in a song that is mostly about trains adds to the isolation and loneliness of it. There should be more songs about missing trains!
[8]

Chuck Eddy: A popwise brightness and remnants of ancient Anglo-folk melody coalesce into a reasonable Big Country facsimile on climactic notes, ensuring these buskers don’t come off absolutely wretched.
[6]

Michaelangelo Matos: At first I thought British Fleet Foxes, with a catch: not hippies. But that’s just the a cappella opener and the bursting harmonies of the chorus. This is folk-pop so bright and perky it can grate — the “mm-mm-mm” of the run-up to the refrain, for instance. It’s so polished it can seem merely calculating. The lyrics aren’t much. But damn if I can stop playing the thing.
[8]

Almost-All-Country Tuesday continues with a feller we’ve definitely had in here before, but who we’ve still yet to like…

[Video][Website]
[4.86]

Matt Cibula: This is maybe my favorite Chesney single ever, as it rocks without apologizing and dude isn’t trying to jimmybuffett me into submission. Lost a point because the bridge lets us off the hook.
[8]

Chuck Eddy: I might excuse this hackwork from a rookie even if I think the horns are corny, but Kenny’s done this kind of nostalgia far better before, scores of times. Give or take “Out Last Night” last year, dude’s been really spinning his wheels lately. But hey, it happened to Seger and Petty and Mellencamp once; was inevitable it’d happen to the Nashvillites who picked up their torch.
[5]

Alfred Soto: He won’t change a thing, not even that pushy horn section. Likable palookas like Chesney need the extra vote of confidence.
[5]

Martin Skidmore: I was pretty negative about McGraw, and this is similar territory, if slightly faster. The vocal is less distinctive, and the music totally anonymous, and the song amounts to nothing. I think of myself as a big country fan, but I don’t mean this kind of thing.
[2]

Anthony Easton: The transformation from a very good sentimental balladeer to a fairly mediocre rock star has now been accomplished. I fear that his best work is now forever behind him.
[5]

Michaelangelo Matos: I find myself pro-Chesney more often than not, though I might feel differently if I were listening to country more. I just get the feeling he really enjoys himself, and it comes across even when the song’s kind of duff. This is a good example: a pretty pro forma see-ya boogie that’s made flesh thanks to a thick arrangement and Kenny being “insinuating” the way Matt Damon would in a movie.
[6]

Ian Mathers: Good god, Kenny Chesney is boring.
[3]

Almost-All-Country Tuesday, y’all! And I’ve not properly checked the archives, but this might be the big feller here’s first-ever Jukebox appearance…

[Website]
[5.71]

Matt Cibula: “No thought, no action, no movement, total stillness: only thus can one manifest the true nature and law of things from within and unconsciously, and at last become one with heaven and earth.” Lao Tzu thinks Tim McGraw, future Democratic Senator from the great state of Tennessee, is simply DREAMY.
[8]

Chuck Eddy: Wanna claim that this is the Commodores’ “Still” inside out, but I’d be stretching the truth. Still, Tim’s a really good relaxer — Stillness is his move, or one of them anyway. He also knows the power of subtle wordplay and string schlock.
[7]

Anthony Easton: Tim McGraw has a mastery of the studio, of his band, of his message, and story; his voice has grown into a mature growl, and he slides thru all the cliches while suggesting a profoundity of meaning. Beautiful work.
[10]

Michaelangelo Matos: Christ, I always forget just what a cornball he is. Craggy opening verses, Don Felder guitar, strings not intrusive enough to hate because what else would come in, a zither?
[3]

Martin Skidmore: He’s hugely successful, but he doesn’t do much for me, and since watching American Idol regularly I’ve got more and more sick of classy American AOR, even when it’s well made as this is.
[3]

Doug Robertson: Ever wondered what Nickelback would sound like if they did a country song? No, of course you haven’t. That would be like wondering what would happen if you woke up with a wooden barrel where your neck should be. This is the answer though, and it’s as uncomfortable an experience as the neck barrel would be.
[3]

Alfred Soto: Multiplatinum-encased power ballads remain the genre of choice for American Idols, but McGraw wants to remind you that he can belt’em probably better than any of those poseurs, thanks. As the religiosity on display here flirts with bathos, the unforced sincerity with which Timbo infuses the line “I can close my eyes wherever I am” undercuts it, and this chugs nicely to its preordained epiphany.
[6]

In other news, it turns out that we (with one notable exception) quite like the world’s second-best Lambert, too. No, not Paul…

[Video][Website]
[7.75]

Matt Cibula: The Russians have a great word for unearned sentimentality: poshlost. Even though I realize that country music gets a looser leash than most other genres on this score, I call poshlost on Miranda Lambert here for committing the ultimate songwriting sin: show OR tell, never both.
[4]

Chuck Eddy: Trying-to-go-home-again platitudes (and a couple decent details — that Better Homes And Gardens line) rescued by a great singer who’s been putting her rambunctiousness on a leash to avoid a dead end. Personally, I’d have preferred if she’d just kept barrelling on through. But I totally understand why she might think otherwise.
[7]

Martin Skidmore: A very sad slow number, about revisiting her childhood home. I like Lambert’s naturally husky delivery, the way she thinks and acts the lyrics rather than overemoting them. I like the simple old-fashioned C&W instrumentation. I like the telling details and find it genuinely moving — her telling the new owner “I bet you didn’t know under that live oak / My favorite dog is buried in the yard” is particularly striking. Absolutely wonderful.
[10]

Michaelangelo Matos: Her singing caught me up so that I didn’t notice till the third listen that the line about her dog being buried in the yard is, you know, pretty pro forma. Lots of this is. But she makes it all sound real, and the no-drums arrangement gives her all the room she needs.
[7]

Martin Kavka: Maybe I have a soft spot for country songs about objects and the memories they contain (for example, Mary Chapin Carpenter’s “This Shirt”), but Miranda Lambert hits this ballad out of the park. This is my new favorite Lambert ballad (replacing “Desperation”), perhaps because one of the songwriters co-wrote Bonnie Raitt’s sublime “I Can’t Make You Love Me.”
[9]

Alfred Soto: Conscious of being unfamous in a small town, Lambert sullenly notes the handprint on the stairs and the dog she buried in the backyard. Don’t confuse the expression of her craft – her voice lingers over details without fetishizing them – with her pleasure in remembering a past she wants forgotten.
[8]

Anthony Easton: Not quite a melodrama, but has that countrypolitan studio magic, and how she almost talk-sings, in that accent, is foundational to a melancholy that is never explicitly expressed. Glad that she is growing up, and writing songs about growing up; though I still wonder why Swift didn’t sing this. (What exactly is the brokenness that she is talking about here?)
[8]

Edward Okulicz: Revolution was a disappointing album, but does it ever have some highs, of which this is one. This is a gorgeous, reflective ballad whose lyrics, which on paper look trite, are brought wonderfully to life with a fantastic arrangement, melody and performance from Lambert — felt without being cloying. Beautiful.
[9]

I mean, obviously I’ll be laughing on the other side of my face when he gets poached by, I dunno, Wolves or someone in the summer, then goes on to form a massive eight-goal partnership with Kevin Doyle, but for now, he’s ours, and he’s clearly the third-greatest footballer in history. Behind Le Tiss and Marsden, in case you needed to ask…

[Video][Website]
[6.82]

Alex Macpherson: On first listen, the dancehall vibes of “Rude Boy” sit awkwardly on its dark, monochrome parent album. As a single, though, it takes on a new lease of life both as an irresistibly lewd spring jam — and as another manifestation of Rated R‘s themes of self-reclamation. Rihanna stalks the beat like a predator, and its coiled springs of synths crouch and pounce with her. She assumes total control over the situation — her rude boy may be a captain and a rider, but only at her behest and with her permission. Each line of the first verse begins “I’mma let…”, reinforcing not the significance of the roles she allows him to play but her own agency. The chorus is even more emasculating, with Rihanna’s witheringly direct questions peppered with imperatives, culminating in the order to “Take it! Take it!” Consider the pain fucked away.
[9]

Kat Stevens: Pleasant summery song that doesn’t quite fit with the emotional trauma theme of Rated R. Pleasant until you realise that the synth line is veering sharply in the direction of Calvin Harris. Aiee.
[5]

Michaelangelo Matos: Even as a non-fan of the album I’d say they’ve been picking the right singles. Especially since, divorced from the album, “Rude Boy” is exactly the kind of record that made Rihanna good: forthright hooks as hard and porous as granite, stuff with the solidity and give of classic early ’00s R&B. The strobing synths and freewheeling beat make a friction that bubbles, and when she demands it rough she nevertheless sounds as playful as the music.
[8]

Martin Skidmore: I think this has something for fans of any part of her career – we get steel drums brightening the sound and the Caribbean reference of the title, we get a strong pop tune, and we get her current tough tones. I had my doubts about her singing a positive song about violent men, but there is no mistaking who is in charge here, so it comes across as a daring and successful move. The Stargate production is a bit unexciting, but this is another strong single.
[8]

Martin Kavka: The production doesn’t have the snap of past Rihanna hits produced by Stargate. And I have to admit that I’m completely puzzled as to the lyrics. Obviously it’s about sex, but between the “take it take it” and the “give it to me” and the “tonight I’m a-let you be the rider” and the “giddy up giddy up” (implying that the rude boy is being ridden), I have doubts that even the most expert pornographer could do justice to the complexity of Rihanna’s narrative.
[6]

Doug Robertson: Forget about standing under that umbrella, Rihanna’s got other plans for it tonight…
[7]

Alfred Soto: Now that she can’t find good songs anymore, she’s stuck hunting for good voices. How much did she get for the Beyonce implant?
[4]

Tal Rosenberg: The music is unstoppable, with its calypso drums spelunking over the rat-a-tat-tat drums. But every time I hear the chorus on the radio, which is perpetually, I sing to myself, “Come on please, please, please chloroform me.” I’m adding two points: one for the video, another for Rihanna’s uncanny resemblance to T-Boz from TLC circa 1993.
[6]

Chuck Eddy: When I heard she was ripping off M.I.A., I hoped that meant the music, but apparently it’s just the video. (Note: Not a Specials ripoff either, unfortunately. Also not remotely special. Docked a notch for more vanilla S&M stance than Lady Gaga, who said when it’s love if it’s not rough it isn’t fun. Rihanna’s just plain no fun period.)
[5]

Anthony Easton: The video is a weird MIA pastiche, but the song, oh the song, asking if he can get it up, if he is big enough, and that she is letting him be the captain, or the rider, has an erotic elan that turns my body out.
[9]

John Seroff: “Rude Boy”’s pleasures bear some surface similarities to that of Stargate’s last banger, “Please Don’t Stop the Music”. Where “Music” ran on MJ fumes, good-times sensibilities and Rihanna’s warm promises, “Rude Boy” diamond-filters those same derivative disco thrills through RiRi’s new, colder-than-cold persona. ‘Music’ was an invite to join the dance; ‘Rude Boy’ is a dare-you-to-fuck-me jam with Lords of Acid lyrics. Rihanna’s trick du jour is in taking “Can you get it up? Boy, is you big enough?” and rendering it sexless and sneeringly disaffected; this will have no problem getting a spin at prom. Bonus points for the pitch-perfect Buffalo Stance Trapper Keeper video and for being more enjoyably weird over the long term than “Hard”; I’m holding out hope Rihanna emerges from the ice-queen cocoon as Grace Jones.
[8]

Call him what you like, he’s still not gonna score as many as Rickie Lambert this season…

[Video][Website]
[5.29]

Matt Cibula: T-Pain you son of a bitch, you got me again with your teenage symphony to boners. Haven’t heard this kind of hybrid (equal parts filth and froth) since R.Kelly passed away.
[8]

Michaelangelo Matos: What do you imagine his bed looks like? Double-king size, round, canopy, sunken floor maybe? The sound system, I’m sure, is sick. What’s playing? If he’s got any sense at all, not this testament to 3D bravura and deliberately goofy metaphor. It’d be like fucking to “Bohemian Rhapsody” — thing shifts around too much. It’ll kill on the radio, but not there. Probably Marvin. Or Miles.
[7]

Mallory O’Donnell: You’d think that a song named for a sex position would be a bit… salacious. At all. The only thing I wanna do in a bed after hearing this is nap. Which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, just a bit incongruous – much like the pointless Jeezy verse. Otherwise, this is just more solidly artless cheese from T-Pain. Again, not necessarily a bad thing. Just don’t get any worse, cowboy.
[4]

Al Shipley: It’s been so long since T-Pain had a good hook (“Blame It” was just a guest verse, remember) that I almost can’t remember what one would sound like. Is this one? I’m having trouble recognizing it as one, but I’m not actively repulsed by it, so that’s something.
[5]

Alfred Soto: Since I only started paying attention during Jeezy’s wheeze, I wondered again what T-Pain contributes to songs that a second synthesizer or shrewd sample couldn’t. I don’t know whether the concept is fading or I’ve lost my appetite for it.
[4]

Martin Skidmore: I have no tolerance for the super-autotuned vocals he specialises in. The title is an unmistakeable sexual reference, and I can’t find anything erotic in something that sounds like “Sparky’s Magic Piano”. I rather like the Kane Beatz rhythms, but the singing dominates — the single drops the Jeezy guest verse in favour of more of T-Pain, sadly.
[3]

Chuck Eddy: Wasn’t he saying a few months ago that he wants to make a country record sometime? Given the rodeos and giddyaps and yee-haws and eight-second rides, I’m now worried this is what he meant. In theory, I approve anyway. In reality, I hope he actually tries to make a country record sometime.
[6]

Also, I know you probably ain’t missed the Saints references in this business, but something actually good happened yesterday…

[Video][Website]
[6.29]

Michaelangelo Matos: Frantic synthy spazzy circa-’83 DOR/hi-NRG redux hybrid. Basic coordinates: Laura Branigan, “She Works Hard for the Money,” “Maniac,” and for lyric icing, Helen Reddy. Chorus cracked me up the first time, but it grew on me, though only a little.
[5]

Martin Skidmore: Very energetic electro-disco-rock can hardly fail to appeal to me, and this sounds like a hit immediately. Gabriella deserves plenty of credit too – she sounds forceful and determined, as the lyric requires, and her power is surprising given that she is 18. The strong-woman chorus will surely get some teenage girls’ fists punching the air. Excellent.
[9]

Edward Okulicz: Wow, Cilmi now has a second not terrible song to accompany the incredible and sadly slept-on “Don’t Wanna Go To Bed Now”. The verses are mere 80s pastiche, but the choruses are dangerously explosive. And she’s got the voice to pull it off too – the spoken word middle eight could have derailed it but she pulls it off with just the right mix of steel and fun.
[8]

Kat Stevens: I found that Goldfrapp’s rocket fuel was somewhat lacking the energy to break free of the stratosphere. Thankfully Gabriella has stepped into the breach, donning the bacofoil and leaving her stuffy languid attic for the outer reaches of the solar system! Magical middle eights and plagarised basslines pour liquid oxygen onto er, nitrogen tetroxide, and the resulting reaction is akin to that Friday feeling! Except I don’t like Crunchies.
[8]

Iain Mew: I really liked “Sweet About Me”! As far as post-Winehouse goes it was about as winning as things got. This on the other hand has nothing going for it bar the energy of revelling in cheapness, half-arsedness and (most importantly) the ability to get away with it. Said energy does turn out to be remarkably powerful, but still.
[6]

Doug Robertson: Gabriella’s always had about a much to do with the cutting edge as a space hopper, but this is an unashamedly retro, electro-disco rampage that, while sounding like it should be soundtracking the chase scene in a family friendly 80s sci-fi movie, comes across as a stupidly fun track. Probably precisely because it does sound like it should be soundtracking the chase scene in a family friendly 80s sci-fi movie.
[7]

Alfred Soto: I’m jailbait for peppy Shania Twain attitude, Laura Branigan vocals, and an opening hook that evokes Joe Jackson’s “Steppin’ Out,” but the production is so toneless that she sounds stranded on a dirt road.
[4]

Chuck Eddy: Once upon a time — like, 20 years ago maybe? — I would have been yelling out “metal-disco, yay!,” and rushing to list this song in a book appendix. But somewhere along the way, the hybrid stopped being so exciting. One of these days, I’ll pinpoint when exactly the change happened.
[6]

Anthony Easton: Is the mission to produce disco bangers that make me want to do nothing but dance–because you have succeeded.
[8]

Martin Kavka: With this release The Invisible Men, comprising two former members of Orson (!!) and a former member of the Xenomania production stable, position themselves as the Xenomania of this decade. But much credit for the success of the track is due to Cilmi herself. Compare this to Sugababes’ “No Can Do” (which this team also wrote and co-produced), and you’ll see what can happen when producers work with a singer who is not only extremely skilled, but also audibly demonstrating her commitment to her material.
[10]

Alex Macpherson: On which Cilmi breaks the record she set on “Sweet About Me” for “least convincing declaration of attitude in any pop song, ever”. She’s deliberately switched up her style, but the problem is neither the polite sub-Winehouse arrangements of her debut, nor even the low-rent cheapo disco of “On A Mission”, all ragged tassels and pound-shop sequins. It’s that Cilmi is so poor a performer that she can’t even pull off a bratty, obvious middle eight that you’d think was impossible to fuck up. Even a comatose Miley Cyrus would have managed to inject that section with more fun and energy than Cilmi can muster.
[3]

John Seroff: A theme song in search of a show, ‘On a Mission’ is charmingly awful, wackadoo velveeta-flavor nostalgia, enriched with high BPM, chicken-headed gurl power and Joe Jackson/Donna Summer/Kids Incorporated fetishism. It’s a little too frantic and out-of-control to love (how exactly is one expected to dance to this?), but as long as the pixie-stix hold up, I’m down to flail.
[6]

Tal Rosenberg: I like the way this song starts, which reminds me of Javiera Mena’s incredible “Al Siguiente Nivel,” in its attempt to use ’80s synth-pop as an attempt to galvanize its audience. But the moment the guitar and the chorus enter the picture, the music completely loses whatever it had in the beginning, and then it just becomes a trite attempt at “Independent Woman,” but with Kelly Clarkson as a touchstone. The problem is that Cilmi doesn’t have Clarkson’s voice. (Maybe they should meet?)
[4]

Ian Mathers: At first, when this is just the “Steppin’ Out” bassline compressed down to a rapid digital burble, it’s actually kind of interesting. If only it didn’t have the most boring possible beat. And the most boring possible lyrics. And the most boring possible singer. Only the laughably bad middle eight saves it from mediocrity.
[4]

FIVE-POST MONDAY! And what a way to kick it off…

[Video][Website]
[5.43]

Alfred Soto: Welcome to the future, as envisioned by the radio broadcast sampled in Starship’s “We Built This City.”
[0]

Michaelangelo Matos: Last year this character sampled Brahms, and now he samples INXS. That’s progress. So is the fact that he’s grokked the post-“Bonkers” formula more shamelessly than anyone else I’ve heard (not all of them, I admit). Karaoke pop as stupid-fun (though clearly not as historically important) as Puff & Biggie ’97.
[8]

Martin Skidmore: The INXS sample is overly familiar, even with basic beats added, so the success or failure of this probably rests on the rapping. Fortunately Professor Green’s grime flow is nimble and confident, and he has the same tonal quality that always makes me smile in Dizzee. I’m bored with the riff, so it doesn’t quite cut it with me, but I quite like him.
[6]

Matt Cibula: Tried to dismiss this but I couldn’t, because the hook is SO DAMN TIGHT and because he retains a bit of old-school anti-flow (think Gregg Nice or Rob Base).
[7]

Chuck Eddy: INXS didn’t invent this rhythm, by the way; as far as I’ve been able to figure over the years, either the Grateful Dead (“Shakedown Street”) or Warren Zevon (“Nighttime In The Switching Yard”) did — and both of them got more funk out of it, too. Still an excellent groove, though. And these blokes preen less than Michael Hutchence did.
[7]

Edward Okulicz: Damned if the INXS riff isn’t still an absolute monster, but this has been done before (and not too well then either). If it had been someone with charisma and presence and something other than just whinging, and if the words were going on about pains in their left tit it might have been a bit more fun. As it is, this is perhaps one step above karaokeing your own words over the top of a backing track. It adds something new quantitatively, but not qualitatively.
[4]

Anthony Easton: Charming, and the whole “I am a Pimp” thing is delightfully self-loathing.
[6]

Sorry, work’s been a bit heavy this week so we’ve fallen a bit behind schedule. Have some geeks getting lasered by way of apology…

[Video][Website]
[5.90]

Michaelangelo Matos: The crisscrossing string pads are as Pet Shop Boys as they are Rhythim Is Rhythim, and so is the vocal melody, something the Auto-Tune only enhances. I like the way it builds for nearly two minutes before a beat proper comes in: complete unto itself, only to shift a gear. The strings just get louder, occupy more space, become more of the point, and when it ends it’s like a bubble bursting.
[8]

Iain Mew: The graceful synth strings set the scene perfectly for a return to something that they haven’t really done much since “Boy From School”. It’s smoother and slower to unfold than they’ve done since, but pop through and through. It effectively pieces together triumphant steel drum bliss and a haunting, uneasy edge that’s always lurking (Note “we will not be leaving tonight” and that it’s not “I feel good”, but “I feel better“). Plus the video might be silly, but actually does an excellent job of playing up the different facets of the song.
[8]

Alfred Soto: Orchestral synths announce their intentions to get pompous real quick. While Hot Chip have often mixed wit and pomp almost as well as early Pet Shop Boys, the decision to filter the their twee vocals is a mistake; what made “It’s A Sin” so funny-serious was Neil Tennant’s seizing the moment as if he really brandished a crown and mitre.
[5]

Martin Skidmore: There’s not quite enough body in the music to overcome the generally lame singing.
[4]

Hillary Brown: Maybe the band is mellowing into something more yacht rocky, but I hope not.
[5]

John Seroff: For me, Hot Chip suffers from a bit of little-girl-with-a-curl syndrome: when they are good, they are very very good, but when they are bad, they’re mediocre. “I Feel Better” is not very very good; it’s sort of moribund. The cha-cha-cha preset into the house preset, the listless layering of sounds over the central, almost amelodic hook, the aimless autotuned vocals… everything feels leaden and uninspired. That said, Peter Serafinowicz’s video is easily the best music video I’ve seen this year and that’s got to count for something.
[6]

Edward Okulicz: The music’s a 10, the vocals are a 0, and the video isn’t actually clever at all, it’s pretty juvenile.
[5]

Tal Rosenberg: The video for this is downright strange, which, in a way, exposes this song’s faults. It sounds like Hot Chip is going for boy band, but they can’t escape sounding like indie-pop. The culprit seems to be the singer, whose winsomeness has always been a bulwark to the bubbly inventiveness of the music. And since they’re trying to go for Robbie Williams, just imagine Robbie Williams sung by an adenoidal faux-soprano.
[4]

Chuck Eddy: I get the idea from its boy-band video that maybe this is supposed to be their pop move? Only, you know, subversive — you can tell, because that sickly bald freakshow dude comes in and scares all the teenyboppers away. Of course, they didn’t have the balls to make him as anywhere near as freaky as Die Antwoord’s freakshow dude. Regardless, whether regular pop or the subversive kind, the music’s still completely forgettable.
[4]

Ian Mathers: You know what? Forget the insane genius of that video, because even before that “I Feel Better” was an easy 10 for me. It’s no secret that I love the album more than most, and that goes double for this song. As far as I’m concerned “I Feel Better” is a perfect example of why AutoTune can be good, why obviously fake strings are awesome, and further proof that steel drums sound like sunshine. Hell, what with “Nothing is wasted and life is worth living / Heaven is nowhere, just look to the stars / There is a day that is yours for embracing / Everything’s nothing, and nothing is ours” I’d even say that atheists were wasting their time with posters; just play this instead, because rarely has that kind of sentiment sounded so joyful and life-affirming.
[10]

We’ve had some technical troubles, so sadly this was denied its place in our day of awful screengrabs…

[Video][Myspace]
[5.00]

Jessica Popper: It’s production line pop, but I have no problem with that, and as long as she keeps up the quality it won’t cause Vita any problems either. She’s from Barbados, so it’s no suprise she’s being lumped in with Shontelle and Livvi Franc as Rihanna wannabes, but Vita is more rock-pop — the only Rihanna song she might sing would be “Shut Up and Drive”. I don’t know if her music is strong or fresh enough to do as well as Rihanna, but it’s catchy and fun so with good marketing she could be huge.
[8]

Doug Robertson: She claims to be a girl who’s got the young money, which may or may not be true, but it’s pretty clear that she’s a girl who’s not averse to listening to every Hot 100 radio station and picking and choosing the shiniest parts from those who’ve already blazed a trail ahead of her. This isn’t as calculated as that might make it sound though, as she’s quite unbothered by her magpie attitude to music, and is more than happy to embrace and celebrate this. And why not? It might be a bit of a mess, but it’s a glittery mess, and that’s got to count for something.
[6]

Frank Kogan: Synth hook out of Italodisco, rocked-up Laura Branigan style, and everything then whooshes amazingly into a Ke$ha cauldron of beats and bleats. And then the voice reveals itself as worn and dead, a tired rap forces its way in, and the track grinds down into dust. But for the first minute there it felt brilliant.
[6]

Chuck Eddy: If this is what bubblegum r&b plans to sound like in the impending future, I promise not to whine about it for several months, at least. One question, though: She’s fixing her hair with a what? If it’s what it sounds like, that’s worse than brushing your teeth with a bottle of Jack!
[8]

Erick Bieritz: “When I wake / I’m craving the taste of the cake” is probably the best worst pop line I’ve heard all year, and a fitting introduction to a big, strident, shallow, noisy, and sort of obnoxious tune that will probably only get played at sporting events. I don’t like cake and I don’t like this song.
[2]

Matt Cibula: If Ke$ha did this song, I would like Ke$ha. As it is, this sounds like the anthem that will blare out of shiny jeeps all graduation week. Then everyone will forget it for ten years.
[7]

Michaelangelo Matos: Given how little I expect from anything Young Money related, this rowdy-AOR move counts as a very minor pleasant surprise. But only because it sounds like it was made to be both ubiquitous and anonymous at once.
[5]

Martin Skidmore: Well I guess she does rock better than Lil Wayne does, as if that isn’t setting the bar not so much low as in a trench. I don’t hear anything interesting in her dull yelling, and the song is utterly forgettable. She needs more power or bounce or something.
[4]

Alex Macpherson: Likelihood of Young Money doing a song called “Vita Chambers” even lower than Take That doing “Wiley”, or Hole doing “Kelly Clarkson”.
[4]

Rodney J. Greene: Wasn’t Taylor Swift’s first single called “Tim McGraw”? Are 15-year-olds still capable of making songs that don’t opportunistically hitch themselves to more popular musicians? This one feels even more contrived, artificially angling its clunky teen-spirit rah-rah for rhythmic radio airplay when it shouldn’t fit the format.
[3]

John Seroff: In six months, some other young American Idol clone will write a terrible hagiographic tune about Vita. By 2015, I look forward to pop culture that celebrates the previous week’s new releases. By 2030, we should hit critical mass and schism into factions of UniqueSilence and nuevo-Baroque fans. By the end of this week, I’ll hopefully have forgotten I had to listen to this at all. In short, though appalling, the system works.
[2]