No word on whether this was originally called “Outline$”…
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[6.33]
Edward Okulicz: You don’t even need Kylie Minogue to make a really good Kylie Minogue single these days.
[8]
Katherine St Asaph: In theory I love the idea of the EDM revival as launching pad or second chance for solo vocalists (though it doesn’t work so readily in practice), but handing over your tracks to someone of Dragonette’s caliber makes them so much better. Surprising no one, I like Martina Sorbara better shy than cocky, and “Outlines” nails the crush-at-first sight feeling where you aspire to come-ons but first have to come out of your head. Everything’s a double meaning. “I wonder what you do”: the most clichéd of big-city smalltalk, but also something more monkey-brain, wondering what this body, this palpable proddable thing that could prod back, could do. “Outlines”: all you can see of a boy in the dark, but also unfinished business, like he’s a blank space (and you’ll write your name). Mike Mago’s track builds and luxuriates but avoids obvious moves; it’s easy to classify all pop-EDM as one strain (that might be corporate, might be destroying the world), but there are subtypes. I’m not so big on big-festival-tent emoting, but what I’ll always fall for are tracks with a sense of inevitable forward motion, a hand of fate pressed on you just so.
[9]
Alfred Soto: Extolling the glory — fuck the heartbreak — of the fleeting glimpse, with Martina Sorbara’s high, vodka-clear tone showing that she’ll dance by her damn self if said glimpse doesn’t harden into a worthy dude. Mike Mago’s gurgling sonics provide more than glimpses.
[7]
David Sheffieck: Shuffles when it should shimmer, bubbles when it should burst. It’s like Dragonette got a memo that Mago missed, and the result is a song whose early moments suggest something that could explode but settles for a fizzle.
[4]
Micha Cavaseno: House’s form of benign dystopian oppression of sterility reigns supreme again.
[2]
Will Adams: I love when dance music tiptoes, and on “Outlines” it’s necessitated by the timid lyrics. It makes the chorus — when that xylophone bass rolls in — that much more dramatic; it’s the moment when the narrator and all the shy kids on the dancefloor are forced to make a move.
[7]
Scott Mildenhall: Martina Soblabla more like. (Sorry.) The last thing Dragonette should sound is nondescript, and yet here their frontwoman turns in a vocal so featureless that its blankness couldn’t even be taken as plaintive; it’s just blank. It’s easy to compare it to “Hello”, so let’s: there was a song colourful and buoyant, combining a cryptic coyness of emotion with eminent joy. “Outlines”, meanwhile, is about exciting as a flannel, and half as intriguing.
[5]
Sophia Clara: Without Dragonette’s voice, which is delightfully affected, this song would be kind of a generically boring electro-pop track. With her voice, the lines about taking up space make so much more sense. She’s on the verge between giddy and bored — “another dance in the dark/another love under cover.” Another, another. It’s a robot song, repeating over and over, but her voice is elastic and occasionally tremulous and very human (I’m right at your boooOOOOrder/why can’t I come ooooooOOOOOVER). Still, the culminating moment that ought to follow the ecstatic build of this song never really comes, the claustrophobia of the beat never gapes open. There’s no bass drop, not even symbolically. It’s not satisfying to listen to, but I’ve still had it on repeat.
[7]
Brad Shoup: Once the bassline comes in, Martina Sorbara’s essentially racing against her own remix. We’re too smart for bosh or something, so Mago’s running his rise onto chill garage shores. But again, with a melody this nimble and developed, further expansion would probably seem grotesque. But let’s keep our options open for next time, yeah?
[8]