Not dying for this, but not exactly living either…
[Video]
[4.20]
[3]
Andy Hutchins: I have been complaining about Sam Smith’s too-turgid solo work since long before their entire goddamn unassisted oeuvre appeared to be that, but following up the twinkling instrumental that at least marked “How Do You Sleep” as an ambitious ballad and a competent Disclosure-buoyed rework of a Donna Summer-sung, Giorgio Moroder-produced disco classic with a Donnie Darko sample, Stargate’s impression of 40’s Take Care-era drums, and Auto-Tune? That’s regression, and would be a reason to throw one’s hands up and give up if Sam weren’t at least mostly exceeding the BPM. “Pink lemonade-sippin’ on a Sunday” demands a far better song than this around it, too.
[4]
Michael Hong: Think about what could have been had Sam Smith asked Disclosure to produce their album rather than dropping mild electronic flourishes to their otherwise flat balladry. “To Die For” is lyrically melodramatic (how could it not with that title?), but any sense of flair ends there as the gentle but unnecessary coat of autotune and the spoken word sample make the track more reminiscent of a home movie than a cinematic production.
[5]
Tobi Tella: I really do support Sam Smith’s foray into poppier music, and the lyric is a fairly grim reconciliation on loneliness; but even though the song is connected to death, it doesn’t have to feel like such a a dirge.
[5]
Will Adams: There’s a point at which loneliness makes you yearn for even the most trite images of romance that you know are idealized fluff but you don’t care, like ’50s milkshake dates or, in this song’s case, pink lemonade on a Sunday. It’s the most stirring part of “To Die For”; the rest is an exercise in vocoder abuse and discounted Noah Shebib drum pings.
[5]
Katherine St Asaph: Either the vocoding on Sam Smith’s voice is nice and smoothing and soothing, or I’m in a place in my life where I relate to Sam Smith songs. Should that scare me?
[6]
Alfred Soto: Sam Smith’s commitment to the fictions of coupledom doesn’t distinguish them from heterosexuals — Smith doesn’t want to be queer, finds queerness a banishment from a center they hope has room for them in the decade when gay men and women have attained a cultural ubiquity. Their thick soul aspirational voice does its damnest to underscore their androgynous qualities, though, and not quite enough to redeem yet another fiction when the world, including a world with newly empowered gay men and women, needs fresh ones.
[4]
Brad Shoup: Everything from the title to the text (“solo shadow on a sidewalk” is a choice piece of alliteration) to the frigging Donnie Darko sample screams emo-pop, so it’s particularly funny to see Smith present it all as the same ol’ American Idol adult-alternative ballad.
[4]
Alex Clifton: Sam Smith is going for lonely and sad here, and they achieve that pretty well with a heavy dose of boredom on the side. I think I’m supposed to care that they’ve not found love yet, but if Smith can’t conjure that kind of atmosphere in their own song, then frankly I can’t feel that way while listening to it.
[3]
Scott Mildenhall: Credit to Sam Smith: they’ve moved so far beyond things like “Money On My Mind” (and indeed “Bad Day All Week”) that such an awkward misstep as this is more surprising than not. It’s not quite melodically barren, but it is drenched in wanton distortion, makes an all too literal grab for cinematic gravitas and hinges itself on perplexing sentiment. Die for someone you love, sure, but until you find them (and for a good while after), why not try living?
[3]