Allison Iraheta – Friday I’ll Be Over You
On a jingle-jangle morning…
[Website][Video]
[6.60]
Pete Baran: So she met this bloke on Monday and he took her for a drink on Tuesday. It is possible they were making love by Wednesday but by Friday she was “over him”. Or to put it another way, Monday she saw a bloke fall apart, Tuesday then Wednesday she breaks his heart and Friday, when he thinks he’s in love, she is over him. Either way it seems like the weekday motif works yet again here, with this terrific little stompalong.
[8]
David Moore: ALLISON IRAHETA OFFERS YET ANOTHER GODDAMN TAKE ON THE MAX MARTIN/LÄKARE LUKASZ FORMULA THAT BY NOW HAS BEEN DONE TO DEATH, REVIVED, KILLED AGAIN, GRAVE-ROBBED, AND THEN REVIVED AGAIN, AND THEN KILLED AGAIN! EXCEPT THIS TIME THERE ARE SOME NICE MOODY SYNTHS IN THE CHORUS TO DILUTE SOME OF THE THROAT-GRABBING CHEERLEADER STOMP! I’LL JUST LINK EVERYONE TO MEGAN MCCAULEY’S “TAP THAT” FOR THE FIFTIETH TIME — MEGAN UNDERSTANDS HOW TO DOLE OUT THOSE ANGSTY VOCALS TACTICALLY SO THAT THE WHOLE THING ISN’T QUITE SO SAMEY AND SHRILL! STILL, A MODERATELY ENJOYABLE EFFORT HERE!
[6]
Erick Bieritz: I’m sure she’ll pull some negative votes for the near-yodel in the chorus, but her massive voice is her biggest asset and it suits the ex-boyfriend bombast she drops. The bigger problem is preventing her personality from disappearing amid such a slavish imitation of a proven commodity – really, a Max Martin-helmed dump anthem was obvious enough without the “U” in the title.
[7]
Michaelangelo Matos: Whatever filters they put on her voice do more for the record than anything else on it, unless you happen to think “Avril in a digital wind tunnel” is a grade-A recipe for success.
[4]
Frank Kogan: Week in and week out on Idol, Iraheta sounded as if she were trying to push beyond whatever style she’d momentarily saddled herself with, her voice soulfully raw but not quite strong enough to heave away whatever I-Beam she was lugging that minute. So at the start here, she stumbles roughly, sounding like someone trying to measure up to Joan Jett on one of her Gary Glitter covers; then the chorus sluices Allison down a Max Martin sugar chute and miraculously not only carries the weight for her but sounds more natural in its loudness than any of Max’s or Luke’s super-screamers since “4ever.” Which isn’t to say it’s not too brow-beatingly loud, but at least it has the right singer for it, and half of a right song for her.
[8]
Matt Cibula: Little more than a collection of tropes, naggingly familiar riffs, and borrowed grrl-itude that has probably been done more authentically a thousand times. And that is why I love it so.
[7]
Thomas Inskeep: Wow — sure didn’t expect this kinda of sugar-rush cheerleader-chant-beat pop candy from this year’s Idol rocker teen. Not only does it get better as it goes on, this sounds like it’ll be huge — can’t imagine the same kids who sent Avril’s “Girlfriend” to the top not responding similarly to this. I was feeling indifferent about her, but after this I can’t wait to hear what direction(s) her album takes her.
[7]
Chuck Eddy: Loses its Suzi Quatro a few seconds in, and she only re-enters for a couple “oh yeah!”s later. It’s cool that she’s there at all, of course, but overall, the stomp pales up against several on Selena Gomez & The Scene’s Kiss & Tell.
[6]
Alex Macpherson: Baby Kelly Clarkson is too green around the ears to be convincing in her rock attitude; her swagger is strained. But when it comes to the heart of the song, she nails the momentary, smarting hurt and the quick-thinking decision to front like he never meant anything to her, either.
[7]
Erika Villani: I’m sitting here trying to remember why I was so excited for Allison Iraheta’s first single, and that’s the problem with American Idol. Within her televised hothouse, Allison was a legend, larger and brighter with each passing week. She conquered “Alone” (everyone knows you don’t sing that song on Idol! everyone knows that song is a death wish!) she made “Don’t Speak” dark and desperate, she showed us how “Someone to Watch Over Me” had always been about the hope and longing and mystery of being seventeen and waiting for your first love. And when it was all over, she gave us the greatest sing-out of all time, she turned “Cry Baby” into a tearful, triumphant goodbye to those who had voted for her and those who hadn’t — we’d miss her, we were stupid to let her go, but if we ever wanted her, yeah, she’d be around. But out in the wild, it turns out she’s just another rough-voiced teen riding a Max Martin stomp, not a legend at all.
[6]