The Singles Jukebox

Portmant-no…

[Video]
[0.89]

Alfred Soto: When a man or woman of average intelligence and no talent step into a studio or record their vocals someplace in the hopes that a musical track will get attached to it, “Jerika” is the result. I can’t fault it for realizing its modest ambitions. In fact, “Jerika” gives hope to all of us.
[3]

Katie Gill: All I knew about Jake Paul before going into the song is that he was a YouTuber(?) who my Twitter feed collectively hated for some reason. Now I know why we collectively hate him. This song has a complete lack of talent from all parties, whether singers, rappers, writers, or producers, a baffling Tesla namedrop, an even more baffling rap reference, the world’s worst rhymes, even worse lyrics, absolutely no flow from anybody involved–and I mentioned the complete lack of talent thing, right?
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Nortey Dowuona: Bad rap references, motionless guitar lick, blocky, empty synths and limp drum programming.
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Adaora Ede: I get that this is a “joke” “song” and that “Jake Paul’s” “career” is based entirely off of his skill with kitschy Youtube humor — for godssakes, he was even fired off a Disney show based off of a non-proprietary version of the website, but I’m still hopelessly embarrassed by the Quavo misnomer. Even so, that hypothetical mask on Migo number one’s face is very securely placed and unmoved by Jake Paul’s phone book frat boy flow. This is not even to mention that Uncle Kracker’s long lost son who has seen G-Eazy in concert 3 times Uncle Kade makes a surprise appearance and adds nothing to the song other than the line “keep trying don’t stop/ cause family bloggers are so hot”. Yeah, I might say that spacey indietropica loop + trap modulation is a sound that I do have an affinity for (could’ve charted in 2016 if it was a Flume song) and I do admit that Erika Costell kinda killed the talk-sing-rap combo on that chorus, but my morality is telling me that I cannot give a Jake Paul track more than a 4.
[3]

Hannah Jocelyn: When I started this blurb, I was fascinated by Jake Paul and this whole Team 10 thing. Like a bizarro-world High School Musical, they get into fights (and sometimes make up) through song, make slick vlogs reacting ironically to videos they made themselves, and now… sing about getting married, I guess. These components add up to a real-time reality show, deliberately made for maximum camp and virality, whether through moments like a British person claiming that “England is my city” on previous Hot 100 charter “It’s Everyday Bro,” or the increasingly egregious lines here. I’ll just list some; “if you were a dude, I think I’d die”; the entirety of Uncle Kade’s verse, but especially the “family vloggers are so hot” part; “put my ass in a Tesla”; the title drop in the bridge. Of course, this is all meant to be trollbait — even the response to the criticism borrowed the flow from the song that sparked the criticism — but there’s a strange dislike I have for this song specifically. Maybe it’s the artificiality, either of the marriage itself, or of the Post-Malonious thunk topped with shrill Auto-Tune. Maybe it’s the creepily innocuous — if not outright sinister – undercurrent in the emphasis on babies and motherhood. But maybe it’s that the two of us are nearly the same age (he’s older by eight months) and I’m just jealous that he’s the star of his own YouTube empire/a business, man, while I’m sitting here criticizing him. Yet I don’t doubt he’s reading this due to some Google alert: sorry for the score, Jake. Shit must be so hard right now. Ignore everything, and keep doing you, because you can and you will anyway, forever and ever and ugh.
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Scott Mildenhall: Hey Mom, how are things? The weather’s great in West Hollywood, which is one thing, I suppose. I hear I was on the news the other night? Apparently I was visible for at least three seconds, but I can’t be sure, because we don’t have a TV here — like Jake told me, “television is an antiquated medium; it relies too much on quality control”. Besides, he’s saving up money so we can have beds first. Anyway, I know Grandma has reservations about all this, but please remember that you all know why I’m here. And it’s like Jake told me: “vicious nihilism is what the Sex Pistols were all about, and they’ll always be revered”. Music is such a key part of influencing — he’s actually making a song as I write. It’s amazing how it’s mixed so it sounds like it’s being heard repeatedly through thin walls. He’s right when he says that we don’t need any other music. Barring you, we don’t really need any other people. Heck, there are always a ton of girls waiting for us, just behind the gates. I’m fine. The timer’s ticking on me now though, so send my love to everyone, I hope the enclosed dollars help.
[2]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: Jake Paul thrives on controversy so whether mixing up Quavo and Future is intentional or a result of incompetence is irrelevant when it’s leading to more views on YouTube. There’s a whole lot to roll your eyes at here but to list it all would be a waste of time since “Every Little Thing” is self-evidently terrible and successful for the very same reason.
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Stephen Eisermann: This is no “Shooketh,” a comedy song with redeeming qualities… hell, it’s not even a so bad it’s good, “Friday” type of song. Instead, this song only serves to remind us all that having no talent or sense of humor is only a career hindrance if you’re not white. 
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Will Adams: The kicker is that the genre of inept pop songs by vapid Z-list celebrities that include a video of the involved rolling around on a beach has been around for over a decade now. Back then, the sound was Timbaland electropop, the platform MTV, the context Heidi Montag squabbling with her Orange County cohorts. Now the sound is Halsey’s “Now or Never,” the context Jake Paul and his squad terrorizing his neighbors. The platform is YouTube, a space where white 20 year olds with good hair and stupid amounts of money can let their voice be heard. Any vanity project like this treads a fine line between endearing failure and outright obscenity. “Jerika” has no gray area; hearing these three idiots grin through an arrhythmic rap that includes botched Quavo callouts, dead-eyed family talk (not to mention Uncle Kade’s creepy third-wheel verse), “put my ass in a Tesla” and questionable rhyme scheme is nauseating. As a snapshot of YouTuber culture, “Jerika” is illuminating; as pop music, it’s grotesque.
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