The Singles Jukebox

“I don’t want anybody else, when I think about me I love myself…”

[Video][Website]
[5.29]

Micha Cavaseno: Icona Pop meets “Roar” meets Lumineers meets haus-style boredom. Apparently loving yourself means eating marshmallow fluff with cotton candy with pillow guts. Love yourselves a little bit better, huh?
[2]

Alfred Soto: Attempting the declarative overstatement of Charli XCX, Hailee Steinfeld sings a self-valentine whose ardor would convince me if the beat weren’t so predictable. Forget the lyrics — “Love Myself” is closer to advertising copy than New Age banality.
[5]

Jer Fairall: The celebratory “Hey!” and the low-key chimes that open the track feign in the direction of Carly Rae’s gossamer 80s makeover, but Steinfeld, who beautifully invoked both youthful pluck and soulful gravitas in the Coens’ True Grit, is wholly nondescript in the role of teen pop star. And even if she feels like singing, not acting, is her true calling, self-love is the worst possible look with which to introduce what, for a youngster with an Oscar nod under her belt, will inevitably be viewed by many as a vanity project.
[4]

Katherine St Asaph: How many decades of pop songs about female masturbation have to pass before the music press ceases to respond with outrage or salivating adulation? “Love Myself” is indicative of the latest wave: a chipper self-esteem exercise, as wholesome as a Post-it on the mirror. The artist never goes on record about the obvious thing it is about. Excised as usual are any mentions of fantasies, porn, or anything that’d betray female desire. The song ingratiates anyway — the Icona Pop model is ideal, as it allows actor-singers to gradually ease into the latter without obvious autotune scaffolding while being inherently hooky in the same way football chants are. But the ~internet reaction~ is predictable and tiresome. This would never happen for male artists. But then, men don’t need songs. They have entire genres.
[5]

Thomas Inskeep: You can read it as a self-empowerment anthem, or in praise of masturbation — and it has a toy piano! This is Pop 2015 (TM) that sounds perfectly engineered, but like riding in a Mercedes S-Class, you appreciate rather than resent the engineering when it’s this good. Steinfeld has a strong voice, and the production on this (by Mattman & Robin, who also worked on the Carly Rae Jepsen album) is superb. 
[7]

Crystal Leww: While a bunch of dudes are going on about how Carly Rae Jepsen captures a “teen essence,” actual teens are singing about how they love themselves. Corny, sure, but this beats and stomps and shouts and feels like an anthem. Steinfeld’s hard to pick out from the pack, but the pack has been impressive.
[6]

Will Adams: The fact that “Love Myself” arrives pre-bowdlerized (really, watching the video fooled me into thinking this was purely a self-acceptance anthem) shouldn’t take away from how massive it sounds. The crowd noise sets the stage for giant drums and an adventurous chord progression, while Steinfeld molds her voice perfectly to each, carefully crafted hook. And sure, metaphorical self-love as corollary to its physical counterpart may come off as a cop-out to assuage listeners, but for someone like me who’s never been in a relationship, it offers unanticipated refuge.
[8]