I guess she waived her right to a fiddle contest?

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Edward Okulicz: For those whose first point of association for Womack is still “I Hope You Dance,” this new track is probably a bit puzzling. 15 years after that song of motherly wisdom (and ten after “Twenty Years and Two Husbands Ago”), she actually sounds younger and like she’s done a whole lot less of the livin’ she’s singing about. The impending doom just ain’t present here — whoever picked the arrangement erred when they stuffed a brief snatch of the portentious swells and turbulence at the end of the song — but she’s sure put some effort in.
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Katherine St Asaph: The devil has all the best string arrangements. And, being the devil and all, is stingy with them, but they’re enticing while they’re around.
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Jessica Doyle: For all the required invocations — the devil, the sinner, the bottle — it feels drained: a country song for a Young Life retreat whose leaders are smart enough to know that the best way to keep the hopeful from temptation is to make temptation dull. (Doggone shame?)
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David Sheffieck: A much more exciting combination of roots rock and country (with, in those strings, a cinematic touch) than any bro has given us recently — though I wish that searing guitar solo was mixed a little higher. A great showcase for Womack’s strength as a vocalist and a storyteller.
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Alfred Soto: She’s been a quiet influence: note Kellie Pickler’s strangled tenor. And There’s More Where That Came From stands as one of the great albums of the new millennium. This offering from her first album since the financial crash eschews the electronic accents that made “The Bees” and “Solitary Thinkin’” career highlights for a hard livin’ Appalachian ballad with an impressive string interlude. As first-rate as these touches are, it’s a generic song.
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Thomas Inskeep: Really, I can listen to Lee Ann Womack sing about anything — her voice is that perfect: so clarion-clear and so country. But I much prefer when she’s singing trad country, and singing about how “being bad, it feels so good” fills the bill nicely. This song makes room for a guitar solo, strings, and a mandolin, yet doesn’t feel overstuffed. This isn’t a return to form because Womack’s never lost hers. 
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Brad Shoup: Womack’s really beating herself up over a drinking problem. Nominally, I guess; she’s actually more concerned with those vocal quivers. It’s a great melody, and the ambitious string arrangement gives her something to sing across, but everything’s summoning stakes that don’t exist.
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