It’s Presidents’ Day, but we’re not writing the thinkpiece connecting that and this…

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Erick Bieritz : The ’90s production revival has entered its Jock Jams phase, and it’s no surprise that RedOne took it there. This is one of his better efforts: stuffed with way too many stupid ideas, but some of them do work. But compared to “Super Bass,” which was a smart compromise between what Minaj does well and what a pop song demands, this is a complete concession to pop. It wouldn’t take much to turn it into a Ke$ha song. Such criticisms are presumably drowned out by a bleacher-rattling loop of the “higher than a motherfucker” bit as scores of synchronized cheerleaders launch into the air.
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Katherine St Asaph: Poor, poor, poor Lex. And poor everyone excited at the prospect of a successful mainstream female rapper who kept her personality, someone just one track away from groundbreaking — everyone who’s now watching her emulate an LMFAO hook singer. Judging by her Roman Reloaded promos, I’d call this a one-off, the chart candy that gets kids to eat the apple beneath, but between this and Guetta (always blame Guetta), who knows? It isn’t even smart capitulation, because Nicki built this breakout on “Monster,” not “Your Love.” I don’t know whether it’d be sadder for Nicki to secretly despise this or really want it. 
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Asher Steinberg : Nicki’s attempts to rebrand herself as the female Sean Kingston/Taio Cruz or Britney with flows and a much more chipper personality are good for no one and nothing but Nicki’s bank account. 
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Alfred Soto: It turns out that “sellout” still has agency! After teasing us with tried-and-true, Minaj is hijacked and ransomed to the sort of electrobeat chorus that Taio Cruz can pull off with more aplomb.
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John Seroff: I defy you to tell me how this is even marginally better than “Brokenhearted“. If anything, it’s (amazingly) messier, more calculated, dumber, more vulgar, less melodic, more patronizing, more heavily branded, more creatively bereft. I know I’m something of a broken record on this point, but pop apologists willing to forgive Nicki’s unfinished skill set when she broke onto the scene have no one to blame but themselves for this nonsense.
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Brad Shoup: It’s not beyond, it’s just different, and I wish Lil’ Kim got that. NY-style hardness, organized-crime obsession, fusion samples, only one fake accent: it’ll come back, but only in revival form. From verse one, Minaj presents a much more universal good-life scenario (beers, considerate tipping, a trip to the beach, er… letting the rent check slip your mind). RedOne’s production sounds like the last few Karmin/Taio/Katy singles, which sounds like the last couple years of pop. I know it’s standard practice to double the chorus melody with the synths, but personally, I find it’s an uncomfortable level of enmeshment here. The one time the chorus serves as bridge — with that plaintive melody riding on a stringbed — true beauty comes.
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Edward Okulicz: The gulf between the mischievousness, intelligence and creativity of Nicki Minaj and some of her “big” “pop” songs (aside from “Super Bass”) is truly staggering. This sounds like everyone else and has no personality, for the most part. When Nicki deigns to put one of her kooky voices on, you smile but can’t help thinking “Starships” is a waste of everyone’s time — worse pop stars would commit better, and Minaj deserves better. She’s done enough bad pop crossovers to no longer give her the benefit of the doubt; as talented as she is, she’s got no damn taste. The “motherfucker” chipmunk bit is just embarrassing.
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Michaela Drapes: I realize we live in a 24/7 global pop marketplace, and that it’s always summer somewhere, but this endless parade of winter-released warm weather jams is so utterly frustrating. I want to hear this coming out of car windows now, not four months from now! Well, ideally, I’d be in a Missoni bikini on a beach in Spain somewhere, dancing to this, since it sounds like every trance track ever smooshed into one hyperbolic glorious mess.
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Iain Mew: Candy-covered confrontation featuring an irrepressible personality not quite contained by calculatedly populist production, hooks blown up to the point where they stop being catchy and start to become disruptive and abrasive and a bit weird. It was at the musical quote of “twinkle twinkle little star” that it suddenly hit me what “Starships” specifically reminds me of – it’s “Swagger Jagger”! How’s that for recursive?
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