The Singles Jukebox

The impact of the “Self Control” video…

[Video][Website]
[6.83]

Iain Mew: This is SO MUCH. It gets going with a pitched-up vocal that seems just too incredibly plaintive to fit into any kind of song. Then they create this song which is hypnotic and dreamy but clearly a single with beats and drops and everything, and yet at the same time is entirely suffused with that same strength of feeling. I need to catch my breath every time I’m done taking it in.
[9]

Will Adams: “Chayeb” covers a lot of ground in its four and a half minutes, from manipulated vocal to blustery rap to two (!) passionately sung hooks. The music keeps pace — the sudden acceleration at 1:43 is a lovely twist — resulting in a listen that, while a bit turbulent, is engaging and intriguing.
[6]

Juana Giaimo: By reading the English subtitles of the lyrics on the music video of “Chayeb”, I found out that this is a song about being forced to get married to an old man. The desperation and impossibility to speak for yourself is present in the distressing and claustrphobic atmosphere of the song caused by the pitched vocals and minimalistic beat. However, while the idea is interesting, the result is a bit too overwhelming. 
[6]

Alfred Soto: “That’s a bad idea,” said the student in my office who happened to hear the pitch-altered vocals. Not so fast. The beats in the verses squelch and grind. But, yeah, not so fast. That’s a problem.
[5]

Jonathan Bogart: The comments on the YouTube video are lit. Some Arabic speakers, especially from the Middle East, are complaining that they need a translation because Fnaïre’s Moroccan accent is so difficult; some are condemning the video’s somber, hip-hop-infused style and protofeminist message as being a product of Western imperialism; a bunch are doing the usual fan fawning over whatever their faves produce; and then there are the French speakers engaging in some nasty racism over the cultural norms of Muslim-majority countries. Fnaïre themselves walk a delicate tightrope between their Western (particularly French) influences and their Moroccan identity, positioning themselves as criticizing from within but, with English translation on the closed captions, pitching their case to an international audience. None of which has a lot to do with the music, the kind of claustrophobic mood piece that beatmakers have been using to signal This Is A Serious Song for decades.
[7]

Brad Shoup: It keeps raising the stakes: the pitched-up nonsense, then some blowed rapping, then the gorgeous sung bit, then another gorgeous sung bit. They reset, but now the trust is there. Resonant percussion throughout, a generally thin atmosphere: a triumph.
[8]