You bring uszzzzzzzzzzzzzz…

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[4.45]

Kat Stevens: What a waste! Amelia suffered a lack of subtletly as the resident foghorn on last year’s X Factor but she was certainly more competent than this 2-note chorus is allowing her to demonstrate. 
[2]

Jer Fairall: Let the melancholic synth drone, muted guitar rumble and crisp drum twitch that opens the song play throughout the entire thing and that chorus, melodically urgent no matter how generically worded, might have registered as something sincere and even triumphant. Corporate protocol requires this to sound as big and world-conquering as possible, however, so it gets pumped full of steroidal dance beats, a forced treatment of Kelly Clarkson vocal pyrotechnics and a thorough scrubbing that leaves it as free of meaning as it does of any hint of grit or nuance.
[4]

Katherine St Asaph: After the Olympics, the U.K. returned to austerity. The lush melodies of yesterweek vanished like neon octopi. Pop was forced to subside on hardtack platitudes and two-note gruel.
[3]

Brad Shoup: Oh Miley, where have you gone?
[2]

Anthony Easton: Like the candy aisle in an American supermarket and the sugar crash afterwards: pure joy and unadulterated regret, but factory-made on the floor of X Factor’s abattoir. This might be why I love it with no regrets.
[9]

Jonathan Bogart: The abrupt, clipped vowels in the chorus do an excellent job of undercutting the heat-blast synths, and oddly make this a more intimate experience than the generic rave-bosh the track wants to be. Unfortunately too much of it is still enervating; but you have to hold on to the little things.
[5]

Frank Kogan: Song sways back and forth, but is more harsh and less lilting than its Girls Aloud prototypes. So Lily shows more talent-show abs and less career-girl confidence. The couplet, “Oh, you bring me joy, yeah you bring sadness,” encompasses the universe of possibilities nicely.
[6]

Edward Okulicz: Xenomania boiler-plate stuff with a little dash of Guetta-fabulousness isn’t a bad idea, but the melody in the verse sounds like it could have been composed by a toddler bashing an electric keyboard.
[5]

Alfred Soto: After a fabulously clipped introduction, Lily’s burnished tones and the laundry list of generalities betray her. 
[5]

Will Adams: Middle of the road synth-rock that recognizes a relationship’s dual functions – a source of joy and a source of madness. It’s strengthened by Amelia Lily’s charismatic vocals but weakened by lyrics that refuse to delve into any specifics, and we’re left at a stalemate.
[5]

Mallory O’Donnell: But first, you brought me a rhyming dictionary. And I’m pretty sure I’m using it right!
[3]