So obviously we put this up on the World Cup’s first rest day…

[Video][Website]
[6.29]

Alfred Soto: So corny I expected a vuvuzuela section to smother the tubthumping chorus. So catchy it almost survives the original version’s darker subtexts, excised by K’Naan for the sake of mass consumption. But the World Cup will end soon.
[6]

Chuck Eddy: His album made my Top 10 last year, and though this wasn’t one my favorite tracks, I still wish I could come up with some smart way to defend it against all the churls who dismiss K’Naan as a vague-global-politics cornball for people who can’t handle real hip-hop — even if, at least in his less muscular moments, he is one. Bottom line here is, his World Cup anthem manages to sound hopeful at a perilous point in world history, and it waves like a flag itself even if some similes don’t scan. (Who calls flags “freedom”??) I’m kind of fuzzy about Bob Marley’s role as an inspirational force in the Third World, but as far as the music goes, I already like K’Naan more.
[8]

Martin Skidmore: Being a Somalian living in Canada, obviously he sounds kind of like Bob Marley, if he were making his later crossovers hits today. This is a flag-waving unity anthem for the hip hop era, and with the Major Carbonated Beverage Brand advertising link to the World Cup, it has unsurprisingly been pretty inescapable over much of the world. As sometimes happens for me, it feels like simply part of our world now, and I find it hard to get any distance from it. I suspect it is not terribly interesting and a touch fatuous, but it’s jolly enough.
[5]

Anthony Easton: I’ve watched between 2 and 6 hours of football and football related commentary a day, for the last week and a half. I enjoy the game. I am not fond of Major Carbonated Beverage Brand, and the whole pull-up-the-people subtext of some of the South African coverage is highly suspect. All of that said, I have enormous amounts of good will for K’Naan, and this has a pretty amazing chorus, and the subversion of neo-liberal nationalism seems esp. proper considering the disaster that was the G20 this weekend.
[8]

Iain Mew: There seem to be a multitude of versions of this with different guest singers – the one I know is this one. I first heard it on the video game of the World Cup, well before its pop chart ubiquity. It is as indelibly associated with the event as I suppose was the aim, and is certainly infectious and, caught in the right mood, uplifting. Its presence on said video game and the various TV ads though have just reinforced that this is the perfect soundtrack for a rather plastic, commercialised version of the World Cup. The soundtrack to a World Cup where everyone gets together for four weeks to broadcast their joy and brotherhood and consume approved branded products; where no one ever chants “The referee’s a wanker!” (or has reason to); where no player goes down holding their face dishonestly; and where tabloids don’t question the racial purity of their country’s opponents. Still, in a choice between this and “Shout for England”…
[5]

Pete Baran: “Wavin’ Flag” is a lovely singalong, possibly that little bit too soft to be picked up on the terraces, despite its aspirations as a chant-along. But the song displays very little of the energy, wit or vim that characterised the Dusty Foot Philosopher (or his terrific final Glastonbury set three years ago) and so, as a fan, I am uninspired. As a pop song, it’s still pretty good, and as a Major Carbonated Beverage Brand ad, it’s one of the best in years.
[6]

Jonathan Bogart: Perfectly fine, respectable work, a worthy charity single which even has a hummable, singalong melody as a bonus. But as a World Cup song, and as a pop song period, it doesn’t hold a candle to the gloriously meaningless, flagrantly appropriative “Waka Waka (This Time For Africa)” — or to “Waka Waka (Esto Es Africa),” which is even better.
[6]

Hey, if it works for Plan B…

[Video][Myspace]
[5.25]

Alfred Soto: Do you sing badly or rap lamely? Make up your mind.
[3]

Al Shipley: Let’s be clear: Drake’s singing is praised because he’s ostensibly a rapper, but it’s not like he’s hot shit by R&B standards. Nobody would listen to a less talented Trey Songz sidekick/soundalike if he just sang, and his third-best-voice-in-a-group skills would get him one lead vocal on a deep cut if he was in, say, 112. The “hey hey hey” riff peppering the verses is bad enough, but when he tries to emote on that luxurious bridge it’s just embarrassing.
[2]

John Seroff: I’ve made no secret of my utter disdain for Drake as a rapper; his lack of personality lends much better to anonymous ballad hooks like the never-ending chorus that is “Find Your Love”. On the one hand, it’s ridiculous that there’s not a single substantive moment to be found here; on the other, at least he’s just meanderingly auto-jangling and not mangling the language or my nerves with his punchline bullshit. I can’t bring myself to find this too offensive. Just disposable.
[4]

Anthony Easton: Drake on his own is a little too much — I find myself overdosing on his sweetness or his aesthetic, or how normal and unbroken he is (think of the weird fight he is having in Toronto right now, considering how street he is, and what he is pretending at, and it seems to be nothing and everything). His work in other places works as a leavening agent, grounding other artists’ egos and excesses, but all alone… *shrug*
[5]

Martin Skidmore: It seems not everyone is tired of him yet. This is almost entirely sung rather than rapped, with careful autotuning making it sound relatively smooth, even sweet in parts, but Drake’s still droning as much as singing it, which sucks out any loveliness it might have had with a better vocal.
[5]

Chuck Eddy: I put this song on a Rhapsody mix to play in the background while I was working, right after Ne-Yo’s “Beautiful Monster,” which I really like a lot, and it was not shamed by the company. Which says something. On the other hand, unless I forced myself to pay attention to it, I barely even noticed it was there. It just keeps disolving into thin air. No idea whether that’s what Drake intended, or not.
[6]

Jonathan Bogart: Shit, I did not want to say good things about Drake, the easiest punching bag to come along in hip-hop since I don’t know when. (Ja Rule?) He’s consistently been the worst feature of any track I’ve heard him participate in — and he still kind of is. But that glistening cool production, the sort-of aching melody, and the general 80s electro-ballad vibe of the track is enough for me. This needs to soundtrack a driving-around scene starring some chiseled non-actor in sunglasses and a feathered haircut, and it will have found its home.
[8]

Mark Sinker: Just like Example, terrific arrangement — craft-layered fragments and implied wider world — as throwaway backdrop for solipsism ordinaire. Drake CAN sing, but the subject (himself) somehow doesn’t seem to urge him into bothering.
[5]

Ian Mathers: In a positively shocking turn of events, it seems that the less Drake focuses on bitching about his life, the better his music gets. Less surprisingly, the result is perfectly fine radio fodder, but remains stubbornly un-amazing.
[5]

Katherine St Asaph: Kanye’s much better behind the scenes, where his memes don’t get in the way. The credit here is mostly his; even if the hey-hey-hey’s mimic 808s too closely, Kanye is still very good at what he does. All Drake had to do was meander into the studio; a lot has been made of his vocals, but he’s no better or worse than your standard hook singer. Unfortunately, he’s only really distinctive when his smugness shows, and the subtle put-downs and uncomfortable “you better”s kind of sour this for me. Not that his audience will mind.
[6]

Renato Pagnani: 808s & Heartbreak comparisons don’t paint the whole picture. Yeah, Drake uses some of Kanye’s moves from that disc (his chameleonic voice sounds almost identical to Yeezy during his “Hey hey heeeeys”) and adopts the same accusatory asshole position -— he doubts you’ll be able to find another dude as good as him, he’s just not another option (he sings the world “option” with glorious disdain) —- but he is also willing to admit his mistakes, something Kanye wasn’t prepared for on 808s. The chasm between their head-spaces is further reflected in ’Ye’s production. On 808s it conveyed a sterile emptiness really well, which made sense because of Kanye’s reality at the time; all the air had been sucked out of his world. “Find Your Love”, which breathes much easier, is also much warmer than anything off of 808s, and, dare I say it, organic. Drake, after all, isn’t the bitter cynic about love that Kanye is (yet), and the production nails that fact. It’s the purple-tinged glow after a thunderstorm during that lurch of time before the sun begins to rise, both ruminative and hopeful. It’s almost as if through his production Kanye is warning Drake not to go down the same path he did, and assuring him that, hey, things will be okay.
[8]

Hillary Brown: What this reminds me of most is listening to LPs as a tween, both in its evocation of the beginnings of parsing lyrics for meanings about love (to then apply those words to one’s own situation, more imaginary than not) and in its specifically 80s smoove sounds, so, while it’s not terrifically sophisticated, it’s got nostalgia working for it, and he still has a sweet voice.
[6]

Some of us like this. Some of us don’t. And then there’s Mathers…

[Video][Website]
[5.64]

Jonathan Bogart: The last time I paid attention to Carrie Underwood was when I received the general impression, a few years after her American Idol season, that she was a competently bland country singer and nothing more, that she played it too safe and threw too few curveballs. I’ll take this as a reminder to ignore received wisdom and make up my own damn mind, because if this is playing it safe and throwing it right down the middle, country isn’t what I thought it was. That it’s modern-day arena rock (na-na chorus from Journey, humping strings from ELO) is hardly news — but that the stuttered title phrase is derived from hip-hop scratching is perhaps noteworthy. Certainly hooked me.
[9]

Chuck Eddy: Carrie’s a rocker at heart (frequently even like Heart), and her third and least compelling album has her celebrating getting revenge a couple times, both in songs with titles that start like her last name -– this one and “Unapologize.” For some reason, she’s not grabbing my heart with them. But I guess I like the stuttering parts okay.
[6]

Anthony Easton: Sure is anger by the numbers right now, ain’t it? No energy, nothing new, nothing interesting, and for something that is supposed to get me all riled up, I am mostly bored.
[4]

Ian Mathers: It’s not surprising that the video for “Undo It” largely takes place in a dauntingly large arena; Underwood’s public presentation, career, and singles (especially this one) pretty much define the kind of bland mediocrity you get when you become popular by consensus. “Undo It” is bland bullshit for the same reasons everyone bitches about the predictable upper reaches of the Pazz & Jop poll every year — to get as far on American Idol as she did, you have to appeal to such a mass of people that it is practically impossible to remain interesting. Special thanks to the dumber reaches of the internet for making people think that a line like “you stole my happy, you made me cry” isn’t wince-inducingly stupid.
[1]

Alfred Soto: Arena-rock with country filigrees, and I wouldn’t have recognized Underwood if she wasn’t in the credits. To be fair, she’s always shouted prayers, plaints, and manifestos in my ear. Here she merely shouts.
[3]

Martin Skidmore: “Before He Cheats” is much my favourite thing she’s done, and this Karo DioGuardi-written number is in that territory, if slightly more rocky in the hook. It doesn’t have quite that fire and inventiveness in the lyrics, but it’s pretty catchy and I always enjoy Carrie’s voice. The uh-uhing in the chorus may soon get intolerable, though.
[7]

Iain Mew: Having to fight the urge to say “Life’s like this/That’s the way it is” over the intro isn’t a good start. It does soon pick up afterwards, but as the song snowballs its way inexorably through powerblast choruses and “na na na na”s it gets exhaustingly too much, culminating in the unpleasantness that is two Carries yelling full on, simultaneously.
[3]

Pete Baran: It does not matter that Carrie is playing straight from the country rock anthem playbook, since such cookie cutter tracks perform well based on two things: the gusto of the performance and whatever gimmicks are thrown in. The joy of “U-u-u-u-u-u-u-undo it” is almost equalled by the vocal cord-ripping belting she gives the whole thing. Foot on the monitor stomper of the summer.
[9]

John Seroff: I sure do like Underwood a helluvalot better when she’s got a little dirt on her jeans, some sass on her tongue and a big ol’ countrystyle band backing her up. As a big radio country pop single, this is solid dumb fun that’s all about setting up the excuse to bang out the uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uhn / NAAAH NAH NAHNAH NAAAH chorus. I’m happy to play along.
[8]

Frank Kogan: Love the start with its clipped little guitar strums, love the big brassy soul on the way to the hook, love the in-your-face “uh uh-uh uh” of the hook itself, but this doesn’t hang together at all: no natural emotional development; feels like successive effects just thrown in our face. It does seem at one with the desperate dance-pop mess of 2010, however, and I’m hoping that crossover radio play will make this song make more sense.
[5]

Katherine St Asaph: The chorus is basically Kelly Clarkson’s “Miss Independent” dressed in country flannel and fast-forwarded to the end of the relationship. I happen to love “Miss Independent.”
[7]

“When Love Takes Over” really was only a year ago…

[Video][Website]
[6.00]

Katherine St Asaph: If this doesn’t obliterate Kelly Rowland’s reputation as a beta singer, I don’t know what will. She found a wonderful, boulder-dense alto at some point — it certainly wasn’t around much for Destiny’s Child or her early solo work — and uses it to crush everything in sight, even pulling off “I command you to dance.” Can we wipe Fergie from David Guetta’s brain and get more of this?
[9]

Alfred Soto: A foot soldier more like. Lead by example, please: dump the Auto-tune and generic thump-thump beats.
[3]

Martin Skidmore: She’s never quite cracked it as a solo star, but I really like her singing, so I’m a bit disappointed in the verses here, which are dull, but she sings the chorus with enough uplifting force that, with the modish and strong production, maybe this will change things. Or maybe not.
[7]

Pete Baran: It could be a Cascada track, but Cascada would never sing it this way, and good for her. To the world Beyonce may have won the war, but I’d rather listen to a Kelly Greatest Hits than a Beyonce one.
[7]

John Seroff: Destiny’s least interesting Child tries on Rihanna’s rhinestones and flashes enough sparklemotion to warrant closer attention in the future. Rowland certainly doesn’t elevate “Commander” but Guetta’s C-is-for-cookie-cutter house isn’t doing her any favors. Get her on a cut with Polow and let’s meet back here to reassess.
[6]

Mark Sinker: A good time to be reminded of another long-lost, lovely summer — 2002, and P!nk’s “Party” and Puretone’s “Bass” — by a PRIOR GODDESS. Kelly powers herself through a well-accoutred stretch of diva-trance bosh, and, well, I would happily reorder all of art to demonstrate how it derived from any particle of Destiny’s Child, so this really only drops points for ending too soon.
[8]

Iain Mew: I guess this does fine in its opening set up of Kelly as mindless drone following the unstoppable urge to dance, but the atmosphere is so joyless and rote that I never get out of it any reason to want to do likewise. Without that wish to follow her commands, it just gets increasingly suffocating and overbearing as it goes on in one-note fashion.
[2]

Chuck Eddy: I realize the vapid roteness of the sentiments here (bragging about having a driver you can boss around? And not doing it in a way that seems self-deprecating, like say Joe Walsh in “Life’s Been Good”? Give me a break) just means Rowland is doing what her genre and audience now demand, but that doesn’t make them any less vapid or rote. Also get the idea she wants to be Beyoncé, a goal way beyond my comprehension. Has energy, I guess. But Electric Six’s “Dance Commander” had more.
[5]

Ian Mathers: There’s a certain joylessness to this that kind of fits the whole forced happiness theme of the song (she commands you to dance! She provides the answer!), but gosh, aren’t David Guetta’s synths getting awfully predictable? I’d actually love to see Rowland tackling this with a different producer; think less Beyonce, more Darkseid.
[6]

Jonathan Bogart: I can’t quite tell whether this is supposed to be an R&B track with a house production or a house track with an R&B vocalist. Either way, it’s efficient and insistent, both physically and emotionally, without ever making itself fully necessary.
[7]

See, when I was a kid, Clarks meant this. Or this. Or this. Times appear to have changed…

[Video][Myspace]
[7.30]

John Seroff: If it’s somewhat less engaging than “Air Force Ones”, then it’s powers of ten better than “Shoes”.
[7]

Ian Mathers: I prefer Vans. And “Vans.”
[5]

Jonathan Bogart: I know it says “Clarks” on the title, but I keep hearing “clogs” (oh, these regrettably American ears), and that, as much as the bouncing beat and the unexpected loveliness of — I think — Gaza Slim’s verse, is enough to make me smile.
[7]

Chuck Eddy: Clocks? Clogs?? (CD sleeve I saw on line did have a picture of shoes on it, but they didn’t look like the sort Appalachians would do old folk-dances in). Whatever, this song somehow reminds me why I loved the first dancehall reggae I heard way back in the mid ’80s, before it got harsh; no idea if it’s considered a throwback, but there’s a warmth, humor, melodiousness, and mysteriousness to it that almost all dancehall I’ve heard since has missed out on. Good chance there are plenty other current examples I’m missing out on myself. But for now, this will do.
[9]

Alex Ostroff: The sharp synths and ascending piano line that coast under the chorus seem to take cues from hip-house, but dancehall hasn’t been on North America’s radar since c. 2004, so it’s possible that the entire genre is always this wonderfully ebullient. The clincher, however, is Gaza Slim’s verse, which preaches the virtues of Clarks on the basis of “proper hygiene”: the shoes prevent Athlete’s foot, while pointed shoes give you corns, and “bagga sneakers gi’ you cheesy foot.” On that note, I have some shopping to do.
[7]

Mark Sinker: Gaza Slim aka Vanessa Bling! Why put up with one great pseud when you can rock two! The video-edit does her no favours — all choppy cutting when her very brief but very marvellous next-to-no-length contribution works as a perfect lithe continuity (tho I don’t think it actually is) — but it helps Vybz. He’s framed against a wall and dominant, declaiming his magnificent yet practical passion for all-weather suede, and somehow this highlights and foregrounds the high growl in his gorgeous voice. Heidegger had a whole thing about well-made shoes and this song is why.
[10]

Martin Skidmore: The female voice is very appealing, and Vybz is energetic and fun. I sometimes felt the synth washes didn’t work with the punchy beats, but generally this is bright and very enjoyable.
[8]

Iain Mew: On first listen I couldn’t make out anything much of this apart from that they were pleased with smart new shoes but loved the escalating piano line that joins the crashing synths later on. A little later and I still can’t bring myself love the main singer (a bit too right there in my ears the whole time while gamely but barely hanging on to the tune). I am increasingly enjoying all the other small details though, from the hygeine considerations of “cheesy foot” to the sequence in which all of the possible situations the brand suits are listed.
[7]

Katherine St Asaph: This would normally irritate me, but when you’re selling your product with verses about how to avoid “cheesy foot” or clean the shoes with a toothbrush, you’re either the worst advertiser ever or you’re sincere. Of course, product placement can feel sincere — in fact, that’s the most effective kind — but this is so exuberant that even if Vybz got a nice fat check after this, he probably at least framed the thing.
[6]

Michaelangelo Matos: They’re talking about shoes, right? Doesn’t really matter: the light shadowplay of the track’s elements are the draw. That, and the fact that Popcaan is the best musician name I’ve encountered in eons.
[7]

All of a sudden, fifth-biggest UK rapper is actually something to aspire to…

[Video][Website]
[5.27]

Alex Ostroff: The Sub Focus remix of Rusko’s Hold On was a perfect marriage of drum’n’buzz with ethereal trance, and one of my favourite dance tracks of 2010, but “Kickstarts” sounds like Mike Skinner singing atop a house remix of MGMT. Chase & Status’ work with Rihanna and Britney’s Freakshow has already demonstrated that dubstep can be successfully dragged into pop contexts, and the rapping mostly works, but the sappy, blokey chorus overshoots James Murphy’s pathos and ends up just plain pathetic.
[5]

Martin Skidmore: The Sub Focus production is excellent — bouncy, with grinding bass and uplifting high noises. Sadly Example himself remains unappealing. His singing is flat and utterly lifeless. He’s a bit better as a rapper, but he’s still a lightweight in that form, and most of this is sung. The backing track deserved better.
[5]

Iain Mew: The highpitched loop and supporting whoosh really do achieve the euphoria that this is going for, and it’s so close to wonderful. Example himself can’t match it though, sounding disinterested and flat at all times, whether his words suggest despair or bliss. He tugs everything gently but disappointingly back down towards the mundane.
[6]

John Seroff: Somewhat blandly, clubby, middle-class formula that asks a lot out of an electronic zipper noise, theremin-pitched keys and a beat so worn it barely catches your attention. Like Iyaz’s “Replay”, this is edited in such a way that repeat play loops this in on itself endlessly. Unlike Iyaz’s “Replay”, this is reasonably listenable.
[6]

Mark Sinker: There’s such a lovely pull in the sound towards the meat and cry of the synth beats that you can’t quite understand why the singer — self-absorbed as he in his own pseudo-diffident reserve — can’t hear it the way you do. Every time the singing is treated, it lifts momentarily — looped or harmonised or even the first moment he jumps off into his rap (until the dullness kicks back in). And this stop-start is what the song’s about: same old her, same old him, except he doesn’t grasp that when the narcissism of small personality needs treatment and lift from something outside itself all the time, that something will soon go off and find someone else. She’s nowhere in the song; there’s nothing but him, and he’s SO not enough.
[5]

Chuck Eddy: Man, this guy has no business trying to sing. Though on the other hand, if it wasn’t for his singing, I’d probably have no use for his rapping, either. Here, it comes as a relief.
[3]

Katherine St Asaph: It’s unseasonably hot here, and dance tracks like this are like being doused in air conditioning. This isn’t the best offering — Example’s singing and rapping is competent, not great, and the synth riff repeats its note about 17 times too many. Still beats at least half of what’s on the radio, though.
[6]

Erick Bieritz: He allegedly went on Radio 1 and described this as a mix of MGMT, Snow Patrol, and Dizzee Rascal, but it’s really just MGMT, Asher Roth, and more MGMT. The hook at least is aping something catchy, which is more than can be said for the dopey blokish rapping. A Mike Skinner comparison would have been reaching; Dizzee Rascal is just silly.
[2]

Alfred Soto: Although not produced by Calvin Harris, it bears his sonic imprint, and Example’s Phil Oakey timbre conveys the right balance of insouciance and melancholy. Far be it from me to suggest that American rappers should look across the pond for models, but Drake should study this kind of no-frills number more closely.
[7]

Ian Mathers: I kind of wish I hadn’t tracked down the video (Example irks me for some reason, it turns out), but the backing track seems to be composed mostly of beeps and buzzes, which is a reliable way to win my heart, and the lyrics are basically the important bits of High Fidelity in three minutes. Which is either a plus or a minus depending on how I feel at any given moment. Right now I’m cautiously assigning it to the plus column.
[7]

Jonathan Bogart: If I’d heard this three or four years ago I would undoubtedly have loved it; but I’m less impressed by British people making modern pop than I was then, and I can’t help wondering if this is the UK equivalent to Mike Posner. But that’s rather uncharitable, and it’s a pleasant, cheerful enough pop song. Even if I don’t ever need to hear it again, I’m generally on the side of pleasant, cheerful pop songs existing rather than not.
[6]

None of the folks in the picture are actually in the band…

[Video][Myspace]
[6.11]

Jonathan Bogart: Good heavens. Anything that mixes dance beats and crackly old records is going to have my attention — I’ve always thought “Your Woman” should have sparked an entire 78-digging genre rather than being a one-off — but I’m not sure the anonymous, hardbody pulse of this works, exactly. Then when the beat cuts out for that waveringly pretty bridge, I’m fully on board. I dunno who any of these folks are, but I’m looking them up as soon as I finish typing.
[7]

Chuck Eddy: Americano no speak you, either! But seriously, this appears to be either some species of bel canto Euro café nostalgia kitsch I don’t know the scientific name of or a not-quite-electrodance-enough updating of same. Fun bounce, either way.
[7]

Alex Ostroff: An utterly charming Italian take on swing once performed by Sofia Loren is sliced and diced and stuttered in an attempt to make yet another novelty dance track. The chopped and looped ‘chorus’ and the polka-esque dance beat are both grating and unnecessary, which means that it’s only a matter of time before the song is totally inescapable. Points for what remains of the original.
[4]

John Seroff: Renato Carosone’s late 50’s “Tu Vuò Fa’ L’Americano” all hopped up on Jolt Cola and Crazy-Frogged out. Sure, it’s gimmicky as all get out but it’s also tremendous fun that keeps its flavor after a full day of play. “Americano” evokes US3’s sweetsugarpopsugarpoppopsthatrock and that late 80’s megamix of 30’s through 50’s pop songs… what was that song called again? Help me out here, jukeboxers?
[9]

Alfred Soto: I first heard a version of the original in the 1999 movie The Talented Mr Ripley, and, really, that’s when this current Euro hit deserved its airing: it’s all Fatboy Slim scratches, delays, and builds. I find it hard to believe anyone’s dancing to this.
[4]

Martin Skidmore: It bounces along in a way that could be jolly or very annoying. The stiffness of the keyboard sounds and it lasting a minute longer than was useful made me eventually come down in the ‘irritating’ camp.
[3]

Mark Sinker: The jostle of two kinds of distortion — the stretch and smeared squinch of a Latin semi-novelty vocal and arrangement, against glitchy cuts and edits topping and tailing everything into punctuation, interruption and flutter, instead of flow and swell. Which is neat and all, because they have a great ear for the material and how they can make it workably odd at an atomic level. And they pace it ear-wormily, so that being good with the small detail may be enough to stop it being totally annoying if/when it gets really big and really everywhere
[7]

Iain Mew: It has enough variations on its interjections to always engage, together with a pulsing urgency to the main hook that every time it kicks back in is welcome. Top moment is the one when they just slightly lengthen the pause before the vocal and heighten the effect of its return.
[7]

Michaelangelo Matos: They’re Australian, which I hadn’t expected: was thinking it was Euro, because that’s what its hefty cheese quotient is reminiscent of. But there’s a restraint there that I like; it’s almost too pop to be underground dance of the Resident Advisor type, and almost too pure to be real Euro-cheese. I imagine I’d get tired of it fast if I were encountering it against my will on a regular basis, but as something I can choose, I’m happy to let it melt on top of whatever else I’m eating at the moment.
[7]

So English people shouldn’t talk like this – HOOTS MON!…

[Video][Website]
[5.00]

Jonathan Bogart: In theory I should be interested in a song that marries the overspecific didacticism of musical theater to the sway and grind of r&b. And maybe either a proper musical theater singer or a proper r&b singer could sell me on it; this neither-flesh-nor-fowl stuff ain’t cutting it.
[4]

Katherine St Asaph: I’m not sure putting a woman on a pedestal and showering her with platitudes makes for a goood relationship. Maybe if the words at least scanned.
[4]

Martin Skidmore: Much of this is just Vivian’s likeably soulful vocals over a piano, with strings and percussion in parts. I’m not sure that there is enough to the song to carry something so basic, and while I like her voice, again it may lack the force to lift it beyond sounding like a pleasant album track.
[6]

John Seroff: Awkwardly phrased, amateurishly composed, coffee shop lounge lizardry that depends on a voice that’s too thin to carry this bumper-sticker philosophy drek further than sub-mediocre.
[3]

Chuck Eddy: Ridiculous — yet sincere! One more example of theoreticlly “retro” R&B that manages to forget that soul music used to have hooks, or at least a groove. But the lack thereof almost earns this song’s title regardless, and Vivian sounds like a nice lady. “Hold her when she wants to be held. Don’t yell at her when she’s only trying to love you. Take her to her favorite place, more often than not” (really awkward, that last line) — I don’t know who wrote these lyrics, but I sure hope they’ve been invited onto Oprah, or got a contract from a greeting card company. And I admit it, minus the back story, I halfway wanna check out Viv’s entire album just to determine whether she did in fact waste it all on said guy.
[7]

Alfred Soto: Masochistic drivel like this deserves a vocal that can (a) wipe the drivel (b) say “who cares?” to the masochism. “Beautiful” is both beneath and beyond Vivian Green; she’s a good singer, doing more with a gulp than Alicia Keys, but she sounds like a girl secretly slipping into her mom’s platform boots.
[6]

Boots gift vouchers for Christmas – Remington!…

[Video][Website]
[6.50]

Al Shipley: Early in his career, Rick Ross seemed like one of the only mainstream rappers who didn’t have to soften his sound much to get on the radio, breaking through with “Hustlin’” and even not skewing too R&B with the T-Pain-assisted “The Boss.” So I’m not totally sure why one of the fattest, ugliest motherfuckers in the history of rap has made slick sexy R&B jams his lane in the last couple years, and it’d make more sense if he was at least good at them.
[3]

Martin Skidmore: I tend to like him in close proportion to the production. This has a lovely Isleyish summery funk backing (is it sampled from somewhere?) and Ne-Yo adds some effortlessly gorgeous singing. Frankly Rick is rather a drag on it, his flat tones rather muffling the delightful warmth of the rest. The lyrics are rubbish too, including, as far as I can hear, Ne-Yo rhyming “October” with “October”. Still, if you let it wash over you and ignore Rick, it’s absolutely beautiful.
[8]

Jonathan Bogart: It’s kind of unsettling to realize that we’ve come to a point in musical history where this sort of thing is a throwback not just to the 70s widescreen soul it’s sampling, but also to the 90s hip-hop that originally constructed its cool worlds out of that 70s widescreen soul. So that makes this a classicist track in more ways than one, and good on Ne-Yo for giving it his best Curtis Mayfield. Like most classicism, it’s a little redundant — we could just as easily listen to Mayfield or A Tribe Called Quest instead — but Ross gives it enough specificity to keep it from being pointless, and in this summer of high-gloss furnace-blast synths its old-school sigh is deliciously cool.
[8]

Spencer Ackerman: Let no one confuse this for approval of Rick Ross: the Albert Anastasia mixtape on which this track appears is a comically bad collection. Ross has exactly two styles, both of which are based around monochromal repetition — rapping for half a bar then resting for the other half, or rapping AABB all throughout. This is the latter example. It so happens that that’s the better style, if still amateurish. More saliently, if you like coked-out Miami funk beats, this one is great, which is to say it’s so good Rick Ross can’t ruin it.
[5]

Chuck Eddy: Inspirational summer-at-dusk driving music, more deserving of a “retro soul” tag than most R&B people classify that way. Sweet how they swipe that N.W.A. hook. And Ross’s Fran Tarkenton shout-out is a cool old-school non sequitur; maybe he’s a That’s Incredible fan, like Black Flag.
[7]

Alfred Soto: The thick, bustling groove is attractive enough; then there’s two stars whose strengths coincide with a certain gold standard of feminine acquisitiveness. Swinging shopping bags of American Apparel and Barney’s on their way to a condo on the beach, Rick and Ne-Yo make like Carrie and Charlotte in “Sex and the City”.
[8]

New Hilary Duff – dignity…

[Website]
[4.67]

Jonathan Bogart: Every time see the title I can’t stop singing “I ain’t kissin’ you at all (at all)” in my head, which I’m fairly sure is not the reaction she’s going for. The song as it actually is, rather than as the imaginary John Waite answer song it is in my head, is only okay, a conventional Hi World I’m Ready For My Close-Up from Nickelodeon’s answer to Hannah Montana. And when I say conventional I mean it — this is Taylor without the specificity, Aly without the internal conflict, Miley without the world-weariness, Selena without the Hot Beatz. It’s hard to care about how falling in love feels to her when it’s expressed so generically; come back when your heart’s been broken, honey, and we’ll see what you’re made of.
[5]

Chuck Eddy: “Headphones On” and “Leave It All To Me” on the iCarly soundtrack two years ago proved Miranda can walk on sunshine, which is what she should be doing here — kissing suppposedly making electric sparks fly and all — but I’m not hearing much joyousness. Apparently she’s 17 now; does that already make her too old for bubblegum?
[5]

Martin Skidmore: A mid-tempo pop song with solidly bouncy Dr Luke production. I’m not sure she’s a great singer — she seems to rather throw away some syllables — but she has charm, and I almost always like songs that big up kissing.
[7]

Frank Kogan: Possibly the most colorless teenpop singer ever to get anywhere near the American top 40, Cosgrove has on her résumé enervated covers of Max/Luke songs that had already been done much better by Amy Diamond and Sugababes, respectively. This one is a Luke’n’Claude original, plenty tuneful, with Cosgrove herself on the songwriting credits, and she approaches it with initial energy and a tad more character than before, though the energy seems like a pale knock-off of the twisting emotion of a Skye, a Demi, or a Selena, or, eventually, like not much.
[5]

Erick Bieritz: Structurally a bit of “Since U Been Gone” slowed to Hallmark tempo; but with nothing in common lyrically, it’s a steady stream of sickeningly sweet confectionery factory runoff.
[2]

John Seroff: I imagine this is what people who don’t hear what I hear in Taylor Swift think Taylor’s music sounds like: vaguely inspirational, orchestral country-pop peppered with uncultivated regrets and grammar school valentine sentiment. What’s missing to me on Cosgrove’s track is the subtlety of inflection, the precision of songcrafting, the wholly believable emotion; in short, the Taylor. What’s left is so minimally interesting that both you and Miranda might as well not bother.
[4]