Hold the “motherfuh-in’” part…

[Video]
[5.50]

Alfred Soto: Viewed as an exercise in keeping themselves awake, “Woman” makes a grim sense. I like Cat Power and in the last sixteen months have grown to love Lana Del Rey and think, even after this exercise, that these two have enough accumulated impressions about The Industry to record several albums together.
[5]

Alex Clifton: Man, if Lana Del Rey based more of her aesthetic on this folkier track as opposed to “I ate some cocaine, had an affair with an older man, and I can’t stop thinking about 1962,” I’d listen to more of her music.
[5]

Katherine St Asaph: Among the more goddamnit moments I’ve had with music lately was the moment I realized Lana Del Rey’s thing is also The Greatest‘s thing. It’s weird how Cat Power (along with most female singer-songwriters of the era) has been written out of 2000s canon; her influence on artists today isn’t obvious, but it’s quiet and it exists. That said, I also found The Greatest as sleepy and underwhelming as most of Lana’s work, so it’s a relief this is more You Are Free.
[6]

Ian Mathers: Beautifully sung, warmly played, feels like a throwback to a few different things in maybe ever respect but the lyrics; even if you wished for more of a stylistic blend between Marshall and Del Rey, who basically just sings backup here (but really well!), this is still pretty irresistible when the chorus takes to the sky.
[7]

Ryo Miyauchi: Desert-land soul and verses dispelling public reputation are Chan Marshall’s specialties that also suit Lana Del Rey very well, though it’s unfortunate the latter is hardly audible. It’s easy to blame the similarities in their voices, the smokiness blending almost too well, but Lana also simply hasn’t been one to really put her personality forward. Her tendency to distance herself from the music isn’t doing this promising collaboration any favors.
[5]

Jonathan Bradley: The combination is an intriguing one: the hot glare of Cat Power’s presence suggests always an absence of mediation, while Lana Del Rey has built her career on the performativety inherent in femininity. That tension should form the frisson at the core of a song titled “Woman,” but Del Rey is relegated to a supporting role, and her ingénue act, while no lesser than Power’s attenuated livewire immediacy, recedes before the glint of her counterpart. Which would be fine if Power weren’t on this occasion so retiring; each lead is a compelling presence, yet neither shows up.
[5]

8bit kpop bloops and blips for your weekend!

[Video][Website]
[6.17]

Thomas Inskeep: Girl group K-Pop doesn’t get much frothier than this — and it’s such a good, smiley, upbeat time, I don’t even mind the predictable video game sound fx in a song titled “Power Up.” It helps that Red Velvet are so irrepressible. And also the chorus’s odd nod to “It’s the End of the World As We Know It.” No, really.
[8]

Alfred Soto: While it lacks the juicy fruit spritz of “Red Flavor,” “Power Up” charges forward infatuated with its bounce. 
[7]

Stephen Eisermann: Although I admire the pep in the song, it feels a bit too juvenile and beneath these girls. The verses toe the line of cheeky camp well enough and the pre-chorus is bubblegum bliss, but the chorus is infantile bombast and it makes it really hard to listen to the song seriously.
[3]

Will Adams: While the chiptune-inspired production is cute at the start, by the end the 8-bit arpeggios and GameBoy switch-ons become more tell than show. The “power up” in question involves double time, but when considering other musical power-ups of yore, it falls a bit flat.
[5]

Ryo Miyauchi: There’s still a slight feeling that Red Velvet’s trying to produce moments rather than letting it happen on its own. I’ll forgive the Minions-recalling “ba-nana” humming, but the “let’s power up!” phrase seems almost too much on the nose for a single with a production accented by video-game coin jingles. More natural are the hooks writing out their feeling of desire, like Irene’s stoic “I want it” and definitely Joy’s “it’s mineeee!” in the bridge that draws out the most from her personality.
[6]

Alex Clifton: Red Velvet has remained my favourite K-pop girl group because they’re not afraid to get weird. I don’t just mean the surreal music videos (pizza boy murder cult! flower monster in acid-trip Narnia! worst picnic ever!), but also with the structure of the songs themselves. There’s always something gently off-kilter with Red Velvet’s singles–accidentals, unexpected chord changes, a bit that comes in sooner whereas a more “conventional” song would’ve let another measure go by. It’s a different kind of melodic math than Max Martin’s ever used and it’s exactly why their stuff manages to stick. We’ve got a hell of a hook with the “bananananana” and 8-bit power-up noises scattered through, and the chorus is pure sugar. In other words, it’s exactly all the stuff I love in pop music given the usual Red Velvet maximalist gloss.
[8]

He saw us drivin’ round town with the girl he loves.

[Video][Website]
[1.71]

Katherine St Asaph: Much like Mozart, the Beatles loved immature jokes. John Lennon and George Harrison came across an unreleased track by songwriter Brute Force called “The King of Fuh,” largely an excuse to say “the Fuh king” over and over again. They added the finest sweep of the London Philharmonic Orchestra’s strings and released a couple thousand copies for the lads. Now it’s official Apple Records canon, it had a David Copeland-directed musical adaptation at the Players Club (tragically, no footage exists online, but actor resumes do), and it lives on as a glorious musical joke. The lesser Beatle (sorry, Mom) removing the pun, adding Ryan Tedder, and recording a Lukas Graham song is a terrible musical joke.
[0]

Alfred Soto: After dreading a Ryan Tedder production on a McCartney track almost as badly as I dreaded Trump winning Pennsylvania, I realized this isn’t terrible — the casual smut bears Tedder’s fingerprints, but his client, after all, once wrote, “Tell me to press/Right there, that’s it, YES.” The vintage keyboards and the way falsetto segues into guitar are pure McCartney. Then “Fuh You” turned anthemic: Tedder can’t produce a song until he’s sure he can lead the parade. And the song is called “Fuh You.” I can’t forgive that, Paul. 
[5]

Ian Mathers: That title just fucking looms, doesn’t it? You know it’s coming, and if you have much sympathy for McCartney you’re hoping it’s not going to be deployed in as thuddingly obvious fashion as it seems like it must, but, no… there it is, like an old relative cracking a wet fart in company because they think it’s funny. The unexpectedly wince-inducing thing about “Fuh You” is this doesn’t even sound like McCartney. Somehow he’s lost most of the character in his voice, and the production and performance feels like Generic Modern Product. Even the embarrassing stuff, before, always sounded like Paul McCartney.
[1]

Edward Okulicz: It’s not that McCartney is too old to get away with saying he wants to fuck you, it’s that he’s an adult and is too old to not say he wants to fuck you while tittering about it because gosh, he kind of did say it. “I just want it fuh (for) you” is not a thing people say, and it makes zero sense in context with the rest of the chorus and especially not from someone who once wrote a song called “Why Don’t We Do it in The Road?” for god’s sake. I mean, this is basically “The Fox” or a Kunt & The Gang song, isn’t it? Quite apart from that, this song just sounds terrible in every way, not least because McCartney sounds like he has a head cold and is being recorded through a wall.
[0]

Thomas Inskeep: a) Ryan Tedder (producer and co-writer here) sucks. Why do oldsters like U2 and now Macca keep going to him for hits which, frankly, he cannot bring them? b) Ew. c) Ew. d. Ew ew ew ew ew ew ew! There is no reason for this song to exist at all.
[0]

Will Adams: It’s 2018, and trollgaze is alive and well. One of rock’s biggest legends pairing up with Ryan Tedder for a song to file in the “OMG they said what?” cabinet of legacy acts’ comeback singles? The scandal! I can’t fully hate “Fuh You,” thanks to its ability to piss off Beatles fans (never give up the fight!), and the fact that, titular BS aside, this is a terminally bland song.
[4]

Iain Mew: He goes for “aw, shuhs” but he’s out of luh, with a cloying affect and a mix full of muh. In short, it suhs. 
[2]

Tasty!

[Video][Website]
[6.71]

Jonathan Bogart: A summit of Lusophone queens, wherein the premier Angolan trans kuduro star (yes, there’s more than one) and the premier Brazilian drag funk star (of which there are a galaxy) meet for a remix of a song off Titica’s third album, released earlier this year; the video was shot in the neutral territory of Portugal. “Eat and Leave” is a literal translation of the title, but the connotation is less dine and dash than wham bam thank you ma’am (one lyrics site translates “baza” as “fuck”). Indeed the grind of the chorus replicates the rhythms of patient sex (or stylish dance, which is the same thing), alternating between rhythmic “come … baza” and insistent “baza baza baza baza.” Ticny’s characteristic throaty whimpers and Pabllo’s characteristic Gibbian falsetto ensure that the orgy is proudly queer, as they trade verses celebrating one-night stands and their queenly prerogative to dismiss at will any guest who bores them. It’s a kuduro song, but it’s steamier and sweatier than a typical dust-dry musseque workout; hipwork, not footwork, is what is demanded here.
[8]

Jessica Doyle: I’m not sure whether I just got invited to an exhilarating party or taunted for three minutes straight. Either way it was great fun.
[7]

Tim de Reuse: I can see what they were trying to do with the chorus — lust becoming unchained, the atmosphere of things getting out of hand — but the breathy chant of the title finds no real profundity in repetition.
[3]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: This is deeply unsubtle, both in form and content, but who needs subtlety? With Titica undergirding the song with a throaty vocal performance over an almost martial beat and guest star Pabllo Vittar providing an explosive bridge, “Come e Baza” makes a compelling dancefloor argument without sublety ever crossing its mind.
[7]

Iain Mew: Pabllo Vittar’s vocal performance is once again extraordinary, and Titica provides a battering ram of a song that’s a fine setting to make use of Vittar’s combination of power and subtlety. She plays along to the raw whine of the synth riff and against it at the same time, and the effect is sometimes uneasy but always exciting.
[7]

Ryo Miyauchi: The shuffling drum beats and the tinny synths rattle the senses, but it’s Titica and her brazen verses that really demand you catch up to her rhythm. Her attitude has no patience for foolishness, but it’s charismatic enough to make the commotion something enticing to dive into. Vittar, meanwhile, coasts more straightforward, though her showy styling gives the beat a sense of glamour as much as toughness.
[6]

Thomas Inskeep: This kuduro beat is so hot I can imagine Beyoncé utilising it in a couple years. And pairing the huge Angolan trans star Titica with Brazilian drag queen/pop star Pabllo Vittar? That makes this one of most important queer singles of the year. But no matter your sexuality or politics, this record is undeniable, a banger from start to finish.
[9]

“Too easy,” we say…

[Video]
[2.83]

Stephen Eisermann: “Too Much” is right, as this track tries to be too sexy, too R&B, too mature, too edgy, but all that comes across is that Zayn is trying too hard.
[1]

Juana Giaimo: This song is a mess: Zayn’s vocals seem completely lost while Timbaland’s robotic voice arrives fifteen years too late. 
[4]

Alfred Soto: It’s possible this echo-heavy something-or-other would’ve been a triumph in 2011 at the dawn of The Weeknd’s career. Now it strains to create a sense of unearned aural mystery.
[3]

Edward Okulicz: The idea that Zayn would have the most boring solo career out of One Direction would have seemed unthinkable when he departed, and still seems shocking at least until you listen to his output. “Too Much” is emotionally evasive, if not completely vacant, doesn’t have a catchy melody or interesting production and the whole Zayn project feels like it’s throwing out singles in the hope one’s going to stick. How can a seemingly interesting guy with talent and charisma think this is good enough?
[3]

Iain Mew: Collectively, solo One Direction members have a very impressive chart hit rate, but Zayn has been going longest and most constantly and has discovered that once attention starts dropping it can hit a cliff edge. He has a 1/4 record in 2018, if you’re generous to UK #20 “Let Me.” Liam has shown how well collaborations can keep things going, but none of those were the most obvious possible choice and sounded like clouded over versions of his previous singles.
[3]

Will Adams: It’s only appropriate that a collab with the least interesting One Direction solo career would result in Timbaland logging one of his least interesting productions in years. Too much reverb fog, too much marble-mouthing from Zayn, too much of nothing.
[3]

Finally, an indie rock band and some more thoughts on California…

[Video][Website]
[5.83]

Rebecca A. Gowns: I saw this band in LA when they won NPR’s Tiny Desk Concert Contest. There were a few bands playing that night, all semi-finalists, and they were all earnest, energetic, and full of joy and wide-eyed wonder that they went from playing in garages to playing a huge branded concert tour. They were all fun to watch, but Valley Queen totally blew me away. Frontwoman Natalie Carol cradled her guitar and sang with such intensity; such crackling electricity; an overwhelming sense of passion and devotion to her performance. She emanated a golden aura, one that enveloped all her band members, soared over the stage and reached out and touched every single audience member like a gentle palm brushing across our foreheads. Does the recorded material capture their live energy? The jury is out, but leaning towards yes. Play it soft, and it’s just a nice tune; play it loud, or in headphones, and linger on the music a little longer, and you can start to feel it: that supergiant golden halo.
[7]

Thomas Inskeep: Generic indie tune with caterwauling, nails-on-chalkboard vocals? No thanks.
[2]

Katherine St Asaph: The midpoint of the Sundays and Mary Margaret O’Hara, thrust out a bit farther on the rock axis. Not quite what I listen to these days, but I’m glad people still make it.
[5]

Vikram Joseph: The riff in the intro of “Supergiant” is a freewheeling, rollicking thing of joy. The rest of the song is left striving earnestly to keep that momentum going; to the extent that it succeeds, it’s mostly thanks to Natalie Carol’s untethered vocals, which spill out like a ball of thread untangling itself down a steep hill. But for all its frenetic energy, “Supergiant” ends up feeling just a little insubstantial, neither melodically distinctive nor noisy enough to really convince. There’s a little moment that works really well, when Carol howls, “You were the face of God, you were right here and now you’re gone,” and the riff rushes back in. A few more moments that hit like that, and I’d be sold.
[6]

Ashley John: “Supergiant” feels perfectly holistic: a synchronous combination of spacey, screamed lyrics with gritty guitar melded together so that they add to something better than their parts. Valley Queen manage to build a song that allows no part of it to hide, and each component is so good, that’s not a bad thing.
[7]

Julian Axelrod: A good LA band captures either the vibrant beauty in every corner of the city or the suffocating dread that seeps through the cracks in its facade. The best LA bands capture both at once, and Valley Queen’s mix of wide-eyed wonder and paralyzing anxiety proves their transplant bona fides. Natalie Carol’s raw howl recalls the East Coast ennui of Big Thief or Hop Along, while the band’s souped-up sound is tailor-made for coastline drives. This duality extends to the lyrics: a meditation on finding paradise in the face of loss, set in a city where the two sit bumper to bumper on the 405. Even the Camaro-ready guitar solo sounds throttled and spent, and if that’s not LA in a microcosm, then I guess I don’t know my hometown.
[8]

Former SNSD member makes an anachronistic TRL bid…

[Video]
[6.00]

Juana Giaimo: The reason I love Tiffany’s solo EP was because of how she played with delicacy. “Over My Skin” is the opposite of that. Her voice tries for soulfulness, as if she was Christina Aguilera, but falls flat, while the production full of percussion noises and short loops resembles Pharrell but lacks something special to make me move my feet. By trying to show off, the music shows less. 
[5]

Alfred Soto: The fake grime covering this Far East Movement production, the horn chart conjure, and Tiffany Young’s lustrous needs conjure Christina Aguilera circa “Ain’t No Other Man,” albeit more convincingly than Aguilera did herself. If I believed in Songs of the Summer, I wouldn’t have minded “Over My Skin” as a multi-format smash back in late May or early June.
[6]

Nortey Dowuona: Lurching, spotty bass, distant percussion, and loping drums are stopped by Tiffany’s confident, authoritative croon. Warm, Nolan-esque synths pop up, and she pops them as live drums and soaring horns leap over, before she swipes them out of the sky and spreads them across the room, sprouting trees everywhere.
[10]

Iain Mew: The title’s reversal of “under my skin” offers a wealth of possibilities: psychological, creepy, sensual, some combination. Instead of taking up any of them, it becomes a banal statement of desire. It’s in keeping with a song that can’t see past doing both Britney and Christina without getting under the surface of either.
[3]

Katherine St Asaph: Down to the slightly off title, this could have been a decent, if trying-extremely-hard, second-string pop single in 2001 — not quite a Britney or Christina, but a solid Eden’s Crush.
[5]

Alex Clifton: “Over My Skin” sounds like a vintage Christina Aguilera track, but without the over-singing or ten thousand vocal runs. Moreover, it’s upbeat — I keep looking for fun songs this year that distract from the rest of the world, but pop is so sad and slow these days that songs like this feel like an increasing rarity. Like all the best bubblegum songs, I immediately want to replay this fifteen times in a row, so clearly Tiffany’s doing something right.
[8]

Anna Suiter: Tiffany’s sound’s different from what it was when she was just Tiffany instead of Tiffany Young. This definitely doesn’t feel like a “Korean pop song” either, and not just because it isn’t in English. It’s obvious she wants to head in a different direction, but she doesn’t have anything to quite carry her there yet. But there’s always time!
[5]

A title that amazingly I have not seen in any comments section anywhere…

[Video][Website]
[6.33]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: Travis Scott embodies all the worst tropes of modern pop-rap. He’s an autotune-heavy style-biter who’s more content to let his more-famous friends and more-talented producers carry him than actually rap anything interesting. When he does deign to perform, he vacillates randomly between codeine’d out mumbling and ear-piercing screaming. That said, he’s extremely good at what he does, especially on his most recent album, the grandiose Astroworld. Of all the songs on that record, “Stop Trying to Be God” is the most extravagant by far, running longer than five-and-a-half minutes on the record and featuring contributions by Kid Cudi, Philip Bailey, James Blake, and (implausibly) Stevie Wonder (on harmonica, natch.) A song as overstuffed and pretentious as this plays to all of Scott’s strengths. His boasts may not make any sense, but they sound as incredible in their word salad as any progressive rocker’s declarations when placed against Scott, CuBeatz, JBeatzz and Mike Dean’s production, which feels spacious like a cathedral. The featured guests fill that space well. Stevie Wonder is the MVP — how could he not be, with his harmonica cutting through the track at every turn? — but everyone acquits themselves nicely. And for once Scott gets to position himself as ringleader of a grand spectacle, rather than marginalized on his own song.
[8]

Tim de Reuse: Woozy, half-awake, defeated, an inward talking-to after a long night of needlessly exhausting yourself — it’s got a mood going, certainly. Scott’s verses don’t do a great job of making the listener empathize with those afflicted with the ills of money and fame, unfortunately; the only truly poignant lines come from the little James Blake sub-song that someone spliced in. The real success is in the atmosphere, which links together its stylistic references with dream logic. Stevie Wonder’s harmonica is surreal enough to grant emotional heft to the final minute of foggy moaning.
[7]

Alfred Soto: His slurring more eloquent than Drake but no less noxious in pint glass portions, Travis Scott stretches on “Stop Trying…” and reaches. Credit the still impressive coloration of Stevie Wonder’s harmonica, an Aquemini-era Outkast album track whose surliness is earned.
[7]

Stephen Eisermann: The beat is littered with enough sound effects and harmonica that the song sounds almost otherworldly, but even in conjunction with the vocals from Stevie Wonder, James Blake, and Kid Cudi, this song is nothing more than an interesting-sounding piece of art, like a pretty painting with no moving context.
[5]

Iain Mew: A pedestrian haunted house/teacup ride combo, almost saved when they start trying to do something else and the ride trundles into a surreal subterranean mass. Ambition and scale can’t be enough on its own without more of an idea of purpose, but coupling it to the unexpected is at least something.
[5]

Ashley John: In June I was waiting in line for hot chicken in Nashville, standing in front of two separate but indiscernibly different groups of 20-something boys in the area for Bonnaroo. They were doing the back-and-forth of festival-going, trading lines like “the lineup is soooo sick” with “would be sick if someone brought out Travis.” Later in June I started a new job and sat at lunch with a few fellow new hires, and we started talking about recent releases. Someone brought up Travis Scott and how Astroworld was never coming. Another assumed the natural opposition with evidence via stitched-together social media posts. Travis Scott is perfect at this role: the type of musician you long after because the longing feels better than the fulfillment ever could. Astroworld borders on great, and “Stop Trying to Be God” is one of the best among it, but Travis Scott himself is better as a vessel for whatever we need him to be — a small-talk starter, a bridge over a lull in conversation, background beats to spur a head nod in summer office air conditioning.
[6]

These guys, well, they’re not getting lucky.

[Video][Website]
[5.20]

Alfred Soto: Keep your Chic piano, boys. Imagine a Maroon 5 in which every member looked like James Valentine.
[3]

Iain Mew: A few years ago I saw indie rock group Daughter play a cover of “Get Lucky” that turned it gloomy and sinister. Their swapping out “she/I” for “I/he” was smart, but mostly it worked because musically it was so heavy-handed to go right through obvious and back out again. “Tieduprightnow” isn’t actually a cover, but it’s pretty much the same thing done instead with the lightest touch. Its fog of sadness never quite settles but slowly spreads out over everything until the effect is unnerving.
[7]

Vikram Joseph: A sweetly wistful late-summer earworm, with the distinct jacaranda-and-sunscreen scent of Australian airwaves. That said, the most obvious reference points are very much Northern Hemisphere — Daft Punk buzzed out on Diazepam, and the jerky coastal pop of Metronomy’s singles.
[7]

Ramzi Awn: You’ve gotta give it to Parcels: their vocals are on point. “Tieduprightnow” is sweet, with just enough playfulness to make it worth a listen. But it has a cloying undertaste, and the chorus sounds like it actually was a Bee Gees single. 
[4]

Julian Axelrod: One of my favorite under-appreciated recent rom coms is What If, the relentlessly charming Daniel Radcliffe and Zoe Kazan vehicle. The film follows a sadsack medical student who falls for a beautiful woman, only to discover *record scratch* she’s got a BOYFRIEND??? It’s an objectively obnoxious premise that’s been done to death, and yet the execution is so slick and charming it bulldozes through the ickiness of the sentiment. That’s the closest parallel I can draw to “Tieduprightnow,” which resuscitates a pop trope used by Rick Springfield to American Hi-Fi through sleek disco trappings and savvy execution. I like how the object of the singer’s affection isn’t necessarily in a relationship. (Maybe they’re just working on themselves right now!) When they play it this cool, it’s hard not to be won over.
[7]

Jonathan Bradley: Parcels play a fussy kind of disco, which serves their commitment to verismilitude: they construct a dance music of primped expense rather than sweat and hips. The boogie is in their polyester cuffs and not the groove. That up-market style can be fantastic, but it does place all creative emphasis on the melody, and “Tieduprightnow” does not have a tune that won’t quit your head. Pastiche is no sin though.
[6]

Katherine St Asaph: Ambitions like the Bee Gees, vocals like the C Minus Gees. When will the music industry remember (or, cynically, realize) that singing matters?
[3]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: Chintzy disco that believes its featherweight vocals are enough to sustain four minutes of tedium. Less can be more, but this is bloodless.
[2]

Hannah Jocelyn: As far as I can tell, we have an unrequited love song with no serious indication that he can Treat You Better; even as “what I need is…” implies entitlement, he seems to respect this would-be significant other enough to not convince her to Break Up With Him. At least I hope so; I fret about the lyrics so because musically, this is flawless. There’s nothing wrong with overdubs and piecing together a production, but the group plays off of each other in a way that immediately indicates a live take. They’re not showing off, they’re supporting each other, so even if the lyrics can lean toward self-pity, the performances are confident enough to overcome that. Probably.
[7]

Edward Okulicz: Here’s a disco song that doesn’t move even one step, possibly because it’s too shy to do so (the bass is mixed too low for my taste) but more likely because it’s actually a yacht rock song in drag. The falsetto nicely portrays the narrator’s ineffectual nature, but it’s not exactly a nice sound in and of itself. More people should listen to Spirits Having Flown, but few people should try to copy it. These guys have some good instincts but maybe aren’t making the best choices.
[6]

Come back in a few months when every single TSJ writer will be writing on Loona’s next single, because we’re just working up to our real debut here too. Maybe.

[Video][Website]
[5.89]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: LOONA’s pre-debut was so successful in establishing the identities, personalities, and sounds of each individual member (and consequent subunits) that it was hard to imagine what a collective debut single could’ve looked like. It turns out that Blockberry Creative’s plan was to use the Odd Eye Circle strategy of providing two polar opposite singles in order to appease as many fans as possible. “Favorite” was the first glimpse of the 12-member group, and it’s the “Sweet Crazy Love” of the pair. While I wasn’t expecting more personality than what was present in previous releases, the result is even worse than expected: a greyscale, ready-made composite. The Desiigner-like adlibs lack energy, the bridge doesn’t provide a strong enough contrast to feel the least bit smooth, and the entire 2000s brass-stomp beat is sorely muted. While altogether seamless, it’s hard to imagine “Favorite” being anyone’s, well, favorite. One wishes the song capitalized on the strengths of its members more, but it doesn’t really matter at this point: biases have been determined, and fans are just happy to see that everyone’s got some lines. Even the title is stylized to announce that this is the OT12 they’ve been waiting for. A shame that this is the result.
[3]

Iain Mew: It’s funny that they stylised the title with OT capitalised, because surely if ever there was a group where the full group isn’t the One True thing, it’s Loona. The journey and all the different true forms along the way were at least as important as the destination, and that would be the case even if that destination wasn’t a below par f(x) album track.
[6]

Jessica Doyle: Twelve is a lot of performers, and I suspect that after a few establishing rounds Blockberry Creative will rely mostly on subunits and combinations thereof, a slightly more flexible version of EXO’s strategy. That said, this does do its best to make a virtue of the clutter. (And “tie up my shoes and do it” will be my motto for fall semester.)
[6]

Will Rivitz: All the parts of the Loona machine finally slam together with neutrino-bomb force, as expected. I just wish it didn’t sound like they were trying so hard — power is that much more impressive when wielded nonchalantly, and this is about as nonchalant as a high school pep rally.
[6]

Anjy Ou: It’s a strange sensation hearing a style of music that I only ever hear on the streets of DC in my K-pop. But as the genre expands globally, companies are casting a wide net to find new sounds for their artists. I particularly love it when go-go music shows up because it’s (a) perfect for dancing (b) a specific touchpoint to a city I love — despite gentrifiers trying desparately to just make it all go away. LOONA kills it on this track, which I’ve loved since they danced to a demo version at their debut showcase. The horns, the call-and-response, the percussion, and the fact that the song is just a dance jam, are all quintessential go-go, with a cute contemporary switch-up on the second chorus to let you catch your breath. I have a feeling the “rrrrrrrah!” will be controversial, but I love it. It’s almost an ululation, an expression of pure joy that fits the song’s “letting my hair down, ecstatically in love” vibe. The only downside to having all 12 girls singing is that we can’t appreciate the depth of the group’s vocal talent — Haseul only gets 2(!) solo lines. But my fave Jinsoul gives me AD-LIBS — which are surprisingly rare in girl group songs these days — and the sub-units will continue to promote. LOONA is here to stay and to slay. #StanLOONA #StreamHiHigh 
[8]

Thomas Inskeep: Clattering and chaotic like the best TRL-era hits by Britney-and-the-rest, “Favorite” beats you into submission like a much louder version of Dream’s forgotten 2001 hit “He Loves U Not.” To paraphrase “And I Am Telling You I’m Not Going,” you’re gonna love them — even if it kills you. But you’ll die smiling.
[7]

Katherine St Asaph: If you’re going to pour years into some kind of labyrinthine ARG rollout, I expect the result to be something other than a pretty good Jessie Malakouti song.
[5]

Edward Okulicz: Suspending one’s disbelief is sometimes fun and sometimes necessary when approaching the absurd in pop. And yes, I’m willing to suspend it and go, yes, these girls are having a great time and are not overworked cogs in a terrifying machine. I’m willing to go along with pretending this is a debut single just because it’s the first with the full line-up. But I’m not willing to swoon over a track that would have sounded warm at best 15 years ago (though really, this style was perfected by Amerie and there’s no possibility to match that) and really wants for a strong voice, or a strong personality to sell it to me rather than just being an Event to consume for the sake of consuming a band.
[5]

Alex Clifton: Part of the appeal of Loona has, of course, been the extended rollout of the member lineup. I’ve followed it half-heartedly, and I know the thrill of finally seeing these twelve girls together packs more of an emotional punch for those who have been longtime fans of the project. It’s difficult to pick out who’s who as a casual listener, and I’m a little in awe of how they’ve managed to pack twelve people in for one song. It’s bonkers and sweet at the same time, but lacks some of the bubblegum rush that propelled last year’s “Girl Front” to the top of my workout playlist. But it’s a great debut for the group at large, and I remain curious to see what comes next.
[7]