The Singles Jukebox

What, another single? No, it’s OK, it’s only a bonus track…

[Video][Website]
[6.12]

Michaelangelo Matos: This probably has more of the actual sound-qua-sound of the Pointer Sisters’ Break Out than a lot of other, more subcultural things I’ve compared to that album, but this doesn’t quite stick out enough for me to hear as a single. That’s probably why it’s a bonus-disc track.
[6]

Jonathan Bogart: “This is for them thirtysomethin’s who didn’t turn out exactly how your mom and dad wanted you to be.” I will follow this woman to the ends of the earth.
[10]

Brad Shoup: This, like the Buzzcocks’ “I Believe” or Pink Floyd’s “Eclipse,” is B’s attempt to encapsulate existence in a few minutes. For max demographic impact (“motherfucker” excepting, but I’m sure they’ve got a substitute in the can), The-Dream and Los Da Mystro bring it back three decades with Oberheim synths and electronic rolls. Only problem is, this damn thing’s all verses, and the best one — a fearsome display of vocal approaches — got slotted first. I could do, f’r instance, without the dire warnings directed toward the beautiful people; we’re doing just fine, thanks. Meanwhile, the beat division makes me physically uneasy…it sounds like a middle-eight stretched over an entire song. I suppose I like the feeling, as well as the overall high concept of the production, but I’d prefer Knowles run instead of tell.
[5]

Kat Stevens: I am sick to fucking death of that synth noise.
[2]

Anthony Easton: It’s a blast–and it’s angry, and Ilike that. I like that it is Independent, and I like that it becomes a weird, hip update of “C’est Cera Cera,” without the nihilistic belief in fate. Beyonce has (or at least thinks she has) become all things for all people; she is not only the subject’s doctor, priest, teacher, etc but by pure force of will our doctor, priest, and teacher, but this is where I get off the train. I like my pop stars messianic, but I would also prefer them to tell young girls that being a diva is not enough for them to stop working hard and going to school. Not that pop star is not a legitimate life choice, but pop stars are not the same as doctors, teachers, priests, or the like. 
[5]

Katherine St Asaph: Beyonce’s grand statement that she’s making songs for the grownups now — it’s the best kind of hilarious how little she has to say for “twenty-somethings” besides “oh hey, you’re not 16.” And as always, she sings in the same way a steamroller moves. It’s a fantastic exercise in pastiche — but only an exercise and only pastiche. In other, less hedging but more embarrassing words, all I hear are other pastiches. What I mean is A Goofy Movie.
[7]

Alfred Soto: The Princely Linn drum kick and synth stabs serve as base and fanfare respectively for the “empowerment” anthem most of 4 avoids, to its discredit; I’d have swapped “End of Time” for this, and so would you. If I place quotation marks around that key noun, blame my suspicion of any claims of self-assertion that ossify too quickly into self-aggrandizement, especially when I’d rather accept Beyonce’s financial advice than in so-called matters of the heart. At this point I’ll even listen to B’s musical advice: twisting Prince into “Sussudio” and syllables to show her sense of humor, she comes closer to being the polymath of her publicist’s dreams.  
[7]

Jer Fairall: Beyonce continues to revive the most dated and least missed of 80s pop sounds, following a kind of parallel course that many prominent indie types took this year with their own soft rock revival. Beyonce blankets this particular take in her trademark warmth and compassion, though, further proving that no one is currently better at crafting empowerment anthems of the sort that refuse to wallow in pity, self- or otherwise. Jeers only to Beyonce for her poor editorial skills in cutting this from 4 in favour of lesser, similar tracks like “Love On Top” and “Party,” to the mass of critics who favour Bon Iver’s mushy Lite FM schtick over this  superior example of the same, and to Beyonce once more for letting this go on about one energy-sapping minute longer than it needs to. 
[7]