First song to legitimately rep for the ’90s babies out there?

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Erick Bieritz: This is how a pop band should enter the big room at the club – what “Starships” might have been if it sounded like something one would hear at a party rather than something one would hear in a commercial set in a party. Songwriter Charli XCX, well-received in these pages on two previous occasions, gives Icona Pop a killer chorus conceit that works better with their style than it would have with hers. And they don’t waste it, pumping fists over a pneumatic drill with buzzsaw accompaniment, a power beat that is not dated but does sound ’90s (bitch).
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Katherine St Asaph: All this time I’d thought of Icona Pop as an inferior Swedish indiepop act. They still are, but this is closer to Shampoo or Oh My’s bratting-hard exuberance. That’s a niche that’s yet to be crowded.
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Iain Mew: I’ve enjoyed but not loved the Icona Pop songs we’d done up to this point, but this one is impossible not to fall for. It has a perfect progression of increasing audaciousness, repeatedly throwing things at you that would be the highlight of any normal song only to reveal that they were just the first escalation of many. There’s the shouting of the vocals in itself, there’s “I crashed my car into the bridge”, “I threw your shit into a bag and pushed it down the stairs”, the bridge line again with added “I DON’T CARE!”. Then the massive beat and added hook coming in for a second go round the rollercoaster but twice as intense, bass synth sounds zooming like cars heading for their own bridges. After that, the track takes a bigger lurch and the initial peaks looks tiny as we head up into space and newly manic beats. Finally, we have reached the total zenith of joy in brattiness in “I’m a ’90s bitch!” and can rush back down for a victory lap. And breathe.
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Anthony Easton: “You’re from the 70s/But I’m a 90’s bitch” is pure nonsense, but the rest sounds like a coked-up attempt to rework the girl power of the Spice Girls, so I will absorb all nonsense they are giving us.
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Brad Shoup: I don’t think Ry-Ry got his interview, but shall we keep trying? The 70s/90s thing is neat insofar as it’s making explicit all this Hipstagram/grunge-pop revival hoo-hah, but in practice it sits flat on the screen. Thank goodness for the breathless action-tasklist. No time for harmonies, countermelodies, any of that: it’s droog raz! I dunno where this shouty electro will take them, but it’s a great detour.
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Alfred Soto: “I crashed my car into the bridge” — yup. “I threw your shit into a bag and pushed it down the stairs” — right on. Their brattiness suggests Poly Styrene covering early Missy Elliott. When the chorus thumps towards me the first time it’s bliss to hear euphoria so undiluted. But then it comes around again. And again.
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Ramzi Awn: The electro drum stabs in these verses are endearingly imperfect — you can practically see the hazy jam session at the keyboard hammering them out. Bitcrushed like a Britney song and not quite negligible, “I Love It” does a good job of sounding like something you would put on after Martin Solveig & Dragonette’s “Hello.” A little light on the pop though. I’m not too anxious to play it for my boyfriend.
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Jonathan Bogart: Bananarama in excelsis.
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