Can you spot the record producer in this picture?…
Martin Skidmore: What if prog had emerged out of funk rather than rock roots? Um, okay, we already had George Clinton… Anyway, this has a kind of R&Bish clapping beat at the back, some distant and tuneless vocals and lots of pulsing synth fannydangle. I find it very tedious.
Matt Cibula: Like Heidi Klum on a stationary bike.
Mallory O’Donnell: In the internet-bred world of bedroom producer kiddies with musical chemistry sets, Dam-Funk is a true alchemist. “Mirrors” plays with his newfound interest in vocals to great effect, updating Clinton’s psychedelic pixie voice for a make-out session with some light metaphysical fondling. Strange and weirdly inspiring.
John Seroff: At its best, Dam Funk’s 2009 album Toeachizown sounds quite a bit like a collection of Basement Jaxx remixes of Sign O The Times-era Prince outtakes. “Mirrors” qualifies as one of the best (and shortest) songs on that excellent double LP; the wiggly organ, marching band beat and Sir Nose D’Void of Funk vocals all signal a cerebral, spacy Parliament kind of high that makes me wanna ride. More’s the pity this kind of egoless disco funk can’t get mainstream MTV/BET/radio placement; I’d gratefully welcome Dam blowing, say, David Guetta off the charts and out of the water.
Michaelangelo Matos: Good on whoever decided this was a single, though that couldn’t have been hard: only one other song on Toeachizown is shorter. The tremolo synth and thick handclaps and fizzy bass are the focus, Damon’s slithering vocal a supporting element, but the music is so hooky it hardly matters.
Doug Robertson: There’s something delightfully sleazy about this 8-bit soundtrack to Gameboy porn. Sure, using the cartridge slot like that will probably invalidate the warranty, but after listening to this the prospect will never seem so enticing. 
Alfred Soto: Linn drums that evoke Prince’s “Pop Life,” stuttering synths, and a decently insinuating vocal almost worm your way into your brain, but speed is of the essence.
David Moore: For a song that seems constructed entirely of bits of tossed-off studio gimmickry — the silly “what does this knob do” vocals, the tacky synth-shore wash, the extraneous solo flourishes — it still manages to clomp and stumble its way into something memorable.