But falling asleep in public? It just doesn’t get any better than that…
Chuck Eddy: Opening part needs a jump start. Surprises me when it gets louder in the middle. Lasts way too long. Serves no purpose I can fathom. Worse than the stupid novelty the title had me expecting.
Alfred Soto: I expected homoerotic country, and got consistent post-techno.
Jonathan Bogart: The music itself is all right, a conventional whoosh and stutter, but the title is unforgivable.
David Raposa: I enjoyed this little techno bauble OK, and am looking forward to its sequels: “Holy Shit Dude You Iced Me,” “Hug It Out Bitch,” and last but most definitely not least, “Balls In Your Mouth While You Sleep (Ha Ha Ha).”
Martin Skidmore: I have only heard the titular word used in Scrubs. I know nothing of Berg, but this is modern Ibizaish trancey house, with huge chords and a lively rhythm. It’s kind of irresistible, its melody sucking you in and the music pulsing and swooping up and down, building and slowing. I’m not the hugest fan of this kind of big room house, but this is an impressive construction, maybe even magnificent.
Anthony Easton: Sweet, gentle, tender, and suprisingly romantic –like a theme for a summer place for the post-disco set.
Michaelangelo Matos: God, is this what passes for an anthem these days? All it needs is a distorted deep male voice telling us about the ineffable power of house music.
Frank Kogan: Nature scenes, Canadian plains in late fall, migrating birds, waves across the harbor in longshot. Then city bustle, lights flashing in the night, warehouse, narrow hallway, pulsating dance floor. Land of contrasts.