The Singles Jukebox

I’m so-o-o-o-o…

[Video][Website]
[3.57]

Scott Mildenhall: As everyone knows, Olly Murs invented disco with “Troublemaker”, so he is well within his rights to make almost exactly the same song again to launch another new album. Once more he brings the accidental comedy, too — “your body fits on mine like a glove” may well be the most disturbing lyrical image of this or any year. Between that and the grammatical weirdness of “wrapped up around your finger” he remains utterly lumbering in every way. As well as catchy, this is endearing.
[6]

Patrick St. Michel: A photocopy of “Treasure,” which was already a scanned version of a Breakbot song, but with all the good elements of the above scribbled over with junior-high dick jokes. 
[3]

Katherine St Asaph: Disco infirmo.
[1]

Will Adams: Olly Murs is such a colorless performer that the most interest in this limp exercise in disco is its strange turns of phrase (“I kinda like it when you bring it to my knees” is the prize). Meanwhile, Travie McCoy drops references as dated as his presence on a 2014 single.
[4]

Iain Mew: As a lightweight vehicle for the swing swishes this would be great, but there’s so much other shit weighing it down. Its resemblance to Maroon 5 covering R. Kelly is bad (on top of the verses’ melodic similarity to “Ignition (Remix)”, it has almost the same first line too!). An ill-suited Travie McCoy is in a no-win position, and doesn’t. The worst mood-ruiner, though, is the jerky unevenness of the chorus, which sounds like the join where someone was desperate to use the best bits of a pop song for a TV soundtrack and hacked a big section out of it.
[3]

Brad Shoup: I think the difference between MKTO’s “Classic” and this slab of dance-pop is that the former is desperate to convince, and the latter’s content to fool. Both are fun looks, but I can’t understand a single thought Murs is trying to convey, and I understand McCoy all too well. If there’s such a thing as diet effervescence, it’s here.
[6]

W.B. Swygart: I’m a bit confused as to whether or not this represents a big deal for either of these folks. I had thought McCoy’s career peaked with his pronunciation of “PAHN-CAKES”, but he’s actually had a few hits since then; still, though, he’s now having to hang out with the pop equivalent of the Nice Guys of OKCupid, on a track whose disco is so canned that it can’t really be expected to do anything beyond maybe Scandinavia at a push. I almost felt sorry for him, then I remembered “PAHN-CAKES” and realised I’d probably be alright.
[2]