Well, if you have to ask, Dierks…

[Video][Website]
[3.89]

Chuck Eddy: A sprightly/thirsty/horny-enough two-step as such things go, but it pales at least as much compared to its obvious thematic model — Hank Williams Jr’s “All My Rowdy Friends Have Settled Down” — as, well, “All My Rowdy Friends Are Coming Over Tonight” did. Which is to say, it pales even more than Bocephus did compared to his dad. Also pales up against most of Dierks’s first run of singles. But sadly, not up against most 2011 country hits.
[6]

Michaela Drapes: An extremely limp variation on the “All My Rowdy Friends Have Settled Down” theme. Dierks, no one wants to party with you because you’re, well … kind of lame. Sorry.
[1]

Katherine St Asaph: There’s something Dierks isn’t telling us, between the whine poured through a conversational-tone filter, the juuuust-off use of slang like “bros” and “get it on,” and the fact that Wild Man Willy is obviously lying because American Idol never airs on Friday. Another clue: he mentions “raising hell” by himself, but never clarifies whether it’s hyperbole or something that gets you permanently barred from the bar. Certainly that girl makes no further appearances. So either this guy doesn’t know he’s trying way too hard (likewise, Dierks is trying too hard for radio play), or the songwriting is remarkably self-aware. I wish I could tell.
[5]

Edward Okulicz: I don’t know, really, if Dierks’ exhortation to his friends to “raise hell” is as comatose as the lifeless chorus of this, it’s hard to imagine wanting to go out drinking with him. Aren’t his friends supposed to be the boring ones?
[4]

Zach Lyon: I’d like to hear the companion piece to this track, in which a group of guys go out drinking together and try not to run into that one annoying guy who takes his shirt off and passes out in front of the bar and always refers to them as his “bros”.
[3]

Anthony Easton: Isn’t drinking alone a sign of alcoholism?
[5]

Alex Ostroff: It seems unfair to write off a song entirely due to the singer’s voice, but Bentley’s voice isn’t heavy or gritty enough to convince me that he’s capable of raising hell — either in a group or all by himself — and his delivery is too blasé to suggest that he actually wants to have fun at all.
[3]

Alfred Soto: Other than the brief, torrid guitar solo, there’s not much fun here. Bentley sings like the asshole at the bar who hits on your girlfriend while you’re in the bathroom.
[4]

Jonathan Bogart: If that abbreviated guitar solo is meant to be an example of “raising hell,” I can only mourn the poverty of his imagination.
[4]