The Singles Jukebox

Do you love us like we love you?

[Video][Website]
[7.71]

A.J. Cohn: It doesn’t sound like it should work: dancehall mashed-up with snotty indie rock–Vampire Weekend’s Ezra Koenig gets a writing credit–punctuated by airhorn blasts. And yet marvelously, it does, finding unexpected confluences in seemingly divergent genres. Just as marvelous: the song’s celebration of the liberating power of righteous anger and fierce joy to be found in this.
[9]

Thomas Inskeep: An amazing Frankenstein of a song, including elements from Andy Williams’s “Can’t Get Used To Losing You,” Soulja Boy’s “Turn My Swag On,” and Yeah Yeah Yeahs’ “Maps,” along with songwriting contributions and production from Diplo and Vampire Weekend’s Ezra Koenig, plus input from four other people including MNEK, and that’s not even counting the queen of the fucking world (I assume Diplo just contributed the airhorn). It’s a testament to Bey’s individuality and just how big her damn personality is that, even hearing her repeating the “they don’t love you like I love you” refrain from “Maps” — a pretty damned iconic song in and of itself — it didn’t occur to me that that was from “Maps” until I re-read the song’s Wikipedia page. She has this rather remarkable ability to alchemize all sorts of source material and make it her own. Karen O’s vocal on “Maps” is a marvel of simultaneous strength and vulnerability, in a league with few singers, notably Sinéad O’Connor and Polly Jean Harvey. That song pierces my heart every time I hear it. Beyoncé, on the other hand, turns it defiant, almost a dare. “I’mma fuck me up a bitch,” she sings, daring you to doubt her intentions. “What’s worse, being jealous or crazy? … I’d rather be crazy,” she answers. She’s out for blood, and wants to make sure you know it. And even with all of those bits of other songs and other producers and other writers, the track itself, on which her vocals rest uneasily, is barely even there; it’s minimalist almost to the point of being air. Yet Beyoncé owns it. No one else could pull off a song like this in the current pop universe. And we know it.
[9]

Katie Gill: For someone saying she’d rather be crazy, this is a remarkably calm song. I don’t know whether this is a lack of commitment or a perfect example of music/lyrics dissonance. Of course, the fact that the instrumentation sounds weirdly like “Orinoco Flow” doesn’t help being crazy in the slightest.
[7]

Crystal Leww: If you ever wondered about the power of Beyoncé, “Hold Up” took an already iconic love song of the 00s, flipped it on its head, and turned it into a massive fuck off anthem. There are countless great moments in Lemonade, but “Hold Up,” which sounds as cool and collected as the yellow dress she wears in the visual accompaniment, stands out as being hard and ruthless as a hard rock song done with a smile on her face.
[10]

Alfred Soto: I love “Hold Up” — as an introduction, not a single.
[7]

Katherine St Asaph: Lemonade works best as a full-length experience: album, video cycle, VMA centerpiece. Even then, “Hold Up” would be about the seventh best single.
[6]

Will Adams: The contrast of the music’s gentle sway and Beyoncé’s brewing anger is not lost on me, but a production this relatively sparse needs some support. On Lemonade that support came by way of the slow plunge of “Pray You Catch Me” and the firestorm that is “Don’t Hurt Yourself.” On its own, “Hold Up” exerts its power in several flashes but is otherwise flimsy.
[6]