The Singles Jukebox

Tuesdays are for resolutely average scores…

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[5.62]

Jonathan Bogart: Ten years later, she’s moved on from vaguely jazzy, vaguely country slumber-pop to vaguely classicist, vaguely coffeeshop sitting-up-in-bed-pop. I guess that’s progress?
[5]

Michaela Drapes: No matter how hard Norah Jones tries, and she’s tried awful hard in the past decade, to make her songs interesting and relevant, they’re still just a mushy tangle of self-indulgent yawns. Case in point: “Happy Pills.” Another dreadful relationship drama where no one takes responsibility for their actions? No thanks.
[3]

Iain Mew: Criticising a Norah Jones song for being nice but dull seems a little futile at this point, but there is no avoiding it. Written down the lyrics look vitriolic, but she somehow still contrives to make “Happy Pills” sound cuddly and little else.
[5]

Jamieson Cox: With a title like “Happy Pills,” I think I was expecting a nondescript slab of adult contemporary; I was pleasantly surprised with something a little jauntier and more assertive than the dusty coffeehouse soul-jazz that made Jones a household name for a little while. I keep grinning at that sprightly, goofy guitar riff, and Norah hits on an optimal ratio of sweetness and smoke. It helps that the song doesn’t overstay its welcome. Three and a half minutes is just about perfect; five and a half would be major overkill. If I heard this on the radio while driving with a friend, I wouldn’t make a move for the stereo controls, which is higher praise than you might think. 
[7]

Brad Shoup: As a pop minimalist, Norah Jones makes Feist look like Charles Ives. Most of her singles are time-release earworm capsules; this pill delivers taunting vowels amongst the muted downstrokes. I wouldn’t be surprised if it turns out this is an inside-jokey Lee Michaels tribute, or maybe this next record is a track-by-track riposte to Beggars Banquet or something. Damn you, Danger Mouse: that “I’m gonna getcha” countermelody is already threatening to mess my month up.
[7]

Alfred Soto: Danger Mouse, the most overrated producer of the last decade, teams with the most underrated performer — underrated insofar as her product has inspired so many shrugs that she’s bound for renewed appreciation. While na-na-na backing vocals and harmonies introduce counterpoint to an artist with no historical appreciation of wit, the track chugs along on a “Long Run” vibe. That’s the Eagles, friends, and if Jones wants to play a blissed-out El Lay cowgirl I’d consider it progress.
[5]

Katherine St Asaph: In which Mouse gets as jaunty as he possibly can, and Norah gets as angsty as she possibly can, and somehow these two laughably small adjustments overlap to make something promising, if not exactly great.
[6]

Anthony Easton: Norah is a better jazz singer than she is a country singer, but sometimes she does something that could pass for either, depending on time of day and mood of the audience. This is elegant, with a sweet central metaphor, and it swings in ways that could be Nashville or New Orleans. The begging of “please don’t let me know” mixed into “I just want to get you” makes a delightfully ambigious chorus. 
[7]