No month is complete without a war of the referents.

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[5.56]

Will Adams: There’s something so bizarre about “Love Criminal” being situated squarely within ’80s synth-pop while being aimed at such a ’10s teen audience (you’ll rarely hear “OMG” delivered with as much of a straight face) that I can’t help but bop along to this. Magalie still requires more vocal finesse, but there’s enough powdered sugar here to distract me.
[8]

David Sheffieck: It’s not every song that can make a lyric like, “OMG he’s beautiful” work. This is glittery and bouncy enough to sell it, if also so gossamer light that it threatens to float away in the next breath of 80s nostalgia.
[7]

Scott Mildenhall: It’s always theft or death with the heart, and that lacks imagination. Love criminals never seem to commit fraud, for instance, and surely that’s fertile metaphoric ground. Magalie sticks to as basic a palette of emotion as she does sound, and her voice does nothing to elevate either. The execution is at times amateurish, but vitally the persistent chug that propels her through verses of snipped syllables is a wave that surpasses that.
[6]

Megan Harrington: Restraint, good taste, prevailing wisdom, and your granny will tell you that it’s best to start small and get bigger. You can always add more salt if it’s bland, but what are you going to do if it’s too salty? Magalie says to hell with all that and begins “Love Criminal” with way, way too much — clunking your ears with a clumsy double dutch first verse and a chorus that arrives too soon. It doesn’t need to be this big by half, like a gigantic neon bouffant on a tiny head, but somehow Magalie gets control of this confection, paring it down so we can finally hear her tiny “o-m-g, he’s beautiful” clearly. The bigness, the too-muchness, the all-of-it-ness that “Love Criminal” heaps on is a suit of armor protecting its fragile center. Next time you go out, be safe and put on every accessory you own and skip looking yourself in the mirror.  
[7]

Brad Shoup: The Billy Joel revival continues to ramp up, as Magalie swipes the “We Didn’t Start the Cadence” for a Spotify-karaoke take on that classic Carly Rae sound.
[5]

Katherine St Asaph: Is it a reflection on songwriting or the dismal prospects of women dating that “be my boyfriend” sounds more outlandish a request than “be my love criminal”? Is “OMG” in lyrics no longer a gimmick? Just how long can one stand a hopped-up “Teenage Dream”?   
[5]

Micha Cavaseno: Like Katy Perry through a “Kids In America” filter, which absolutely NOBODY was asking for. Yet these things keep happening to us.
[2]

Alfred Soto: Pat Benatar’s “We Belong” for the Ariana Grande set, without an ounce of her force and sense of apocalyptic thunderdomes imploding. Or Pat Benatar’s. 
[3]

Anthony Easton: She snaps those consonants (criminal, boyfriend, rugged) and the percussion fits into the plain speech of the lyrics. The line between spare and cliché is manipulated adroitly, her commitment to pleasure more than serviceable. An extra point for how much fun it is. 
[7]