Mariah lets go of the negative reviews through the power of the side-eye…

[Video]
[6.38]

Daniel Montesinos-Donaghy: “I’m making a statement,” Carey begins, supported by the sound of crackling old-timey vinyl, and she’s not lying. The dip into digetic sound forcefully communicates exactly what it did on “Wrecking Ball” – forcing your way into the balladry canon via classicist signifiers like gramophone noises or opulent string sections. The big difference is that Cyrus had never been part of the canon before and Carey has been in countless times. And she wants back in, no matter the quality of the song, hence this precisely unleashed set of aural fireworks and Mimi Noises. “The Art of Letting Go” is a particularly ironic title because it sounds like Carey denying her grip on the torch song. It’s aggression disguised as grace, and it’s more boring than that sounds.
[5]

Alfred Soto: She wants to make a statement, alright. Opening with scratchy keys, metronome, and “I’m making a statement of my own opinion” as if translated from Portuguese, she revels in yet more polysyllabics (“dominion,” “exceedingly” “liability”) with a no-sweat virtuosity to which Rodney Jerkins’ programmed tick-tocks and stacked harmonies is suited. To hear Carey sing a ballad without rasp is relief enough.
[7]

Anthony Easton: This is not a “brief little reminder”, and this is not intended for just her. This is an epic, historically minded (that vinyl scratch, those strings, that piano), perfectly crafted, studio confection of pure drama and refused modesty. It is beautiful, diva ridden batshittery. I love it. 
[9]

Patrick St. Michel: Great backdrop for a vocal display…and that’s it.
[4]

Brad Shoup: I know Carey said this is — and why fight it — a nostalgic effort. But give her… credit, I guess, for asking what Miguel would do. She and Rodney Jerkins referee a bunch of discrete elements: that damn vinyl crackle, a graceful string arrangement, Casio hi-hat, and a blowout ending. It’s part old-school soul ballad and part live showstopper, and Carey sing-talks her way through it like she has to entertain us. I suspect this song would be better with the ending presaged. Better drums would work too.
[5]

Scott Mildenhall: Meandering, tuneless and ludicrously self-serious, this brings to mind “If I Could Turn Back The Hands Of Time” in how despite all of that, it works. It’s a song that can only get by on the sheer force of its performer’s will; ideal, given familiarity, for Got Talent variations worldwide, and it should be boring, but it’s not.
[7]

Will Adams: The rub lies in how the song doesn’t totally let go; when the drums pick up, it’s only for a brief moment before they fall out and Mariah concludes with, “It ain’t easy, baby.” So many uplifting anthems ignore the fortitude required to let go of someone, to push a problem out of mind — especially when somebody is flinging your world around, watching as you fall. Contrivances like the vinyl noise and the maudlin string section let it down, but “The Art of Letting Go” has an emotional resonance that makes it a cut above most ballads.
[7]

Crystal Leww: This is not the Mariah Carey song that causes you to do a combo smile sigh, not the Mariah Carey song that causes you to clutch your heart from exhaustion, not the Mariah Carey song that leaves you breathless thinking about even as you’re falling asleep. This is not the Mariah Carey song that changes your life, but it’s still a god damn Mariah Carey song, and still a good Mariah Carey song. There is still no one who quite does the highs and lows like Mariah, even if there’s someone who embodies her former youth and joy better these days, someone who idolizes her, there is still only one Mariah Carey. For all (admittedly valid) complaints about how old fashioned this production and style might sound, there is no one who can pull off the deadening echo of “press delete” and that high note, that final “down” all the way up and then down in the same damn breath. God bless you, Mariah.
[7]