The Singles Jukebox

It’s “The Singles Jukebox”, Tyler. It says it at the top of the page…

[Video]
[7.67]

Al Varela: A perfect summer jam. Bright and sunny production that’s soulful, charming, and so full of life that it adequately soundtracks any summer occasion. Tyler and Youngboy’s dorky attempts at flirting are admittedly tragic, but I think the song knows it’s kinda desperate and stupid. It’s just trying to make the most of a beautiful day, hopped up on its infatuation and giving it unearned confidence that’s funny, yet still endearing. Wonderful little track.
[9]

Nortey Dowuona: An absolute delight. Bishop Burrell needs to come out of retirement.
[10]

Alfred Soto: Tyler won’t convince me he’s anything other than a mediocre rapper and a terrific producer, which means he makes records as solid as anybody’s. In his continuous effort to sand down the fangs shown a decade ago, he offers “WUSYANAME” as a valentine: he’ll take his fantasy boy to an indie film in Cannes (sure), to a disco in France (okay), anything to make the word flesh. The H-Town sample ties him to a hip-hop past in which he once soaked, a past which keeps him listenable. 
[6]

Thomas Inskeep: Sampling an H-Town deep cut is a good way to grab my attention; utilizing it as smartly as Tyler does here is a great way to keep it. And he gets a decent verse out of Youngboy NBA, to boot.
[7]

Oliver Maier: Tyler’s softboi shtick — besotted but not enough to rise above the urge to neg — is an entertaining idea. His see-saw flow is clearly designed to ride the beat but doesn’t make much of an impression; it’s the electrifying Youngboy who really stands out. Ty Dolla $ign is apparently featured.
[6]

Claire Biddles: Even more so than with Igor, it’s difficult to separate the singles of Call Me If You Get Lost from their wider context. The album is a sun-warmed continuous road-and-lake trip that sees Tyler cross countries, picking up friends, lovers, cars and luxury baked goods at every port. It’s curious and expansive where Igor was introspective and nihilistic — a long-held outward breath, a relief. But in its last moments, it reveals itself as a new kind of tragedy, too. Tyler is no longer chasing what he can’t have, but running away — resigned to filling his travel itinerary with distractions. Taken in isolation, “WUSYANAME” is all bravado, from its opening goofy pick-up line to its louche new jack swing bounce. Even Tyler’s low-key fuckboy condescension (“a couple indie movies that you never heard of”) translates to irresistible charm. But for what? Knowing how Tyler structures his records with a filmic sense of time, this is either the breezy set-up for a significant heartbreak, or — more likely — a flash-forward to one of many attempts to mask that heartbreak with faux confidence, towards a girl who isn’t the girl. His effervescence masks the tedious ache of going through the motions to convince yourself that you’re not hurt. Like a lot of Call Me If You Get Lost, “WUSYANAME” sounds like carefree midday, the sun’s highest point. But that point only lasts for a moment. The sun makes its way across the sky, and the shadows get longer.
[8]