The Singles Jukebox

Or possibly named after just the one song, then.

[Video][Website]
[5.50]

Juana Giaimo: “Fantasy” is all about being casual. Her indifferent tone, the instruments appearing and disappearing leaving no traces — the jazzy piano, a trumpet and all those weird noises at the end — and the subtle rhythm make it an enjoyable song, but a forgettable one too. After all, she is true to her words: “I won’t pressure you to stay.”
[6]

Jonathan Bradley: The ever-shifting jazz arrangement, which suggests a diegetic collage in its wander through chilled piano runs and soundtrack saxophone noodles, is more engaging than the too-repetitive lyric; “I’m no man’s fantasy” is a statement of purpose that tells rather than shows. Her not quite entirely weightless shrug on “…because I’ve given up” hints that there’s more to Kari Faux than a merely laudable manifesto of feminine independence. Even in her younger days, as a neophyte transplant from Little Rock, when her arrangements were more uncomplicatedly hip-hop-driven, the awkward precision of her flow and the hazy swell of the production accompanying it suggested someone not quite in tune with the mainstream, as if Dungeon Family had extended its tendrils from Georgia to Arkansas. “Fantasy” underlines Faux’s idiosyncrasies more insistently than might be necessary, but they’re nonetheless what make her worth keeping an eye on.
[7]

Will Adams: Kari Faux’s disaffected, super-quantized flow combined with the schticky jazz elements makes the majority of “Fantasy” a bit of a chore. The instrumental, verging on psychedelic outro takes a sharp turn toward interesting, too little too late.
[5]

Alfred Soto: The piano and saxophone riffs suggest a less vaporous presence than the agreeable, nondescript singer, who tells an awful lot more than she shows.
[5]

Ryo Miyauchi: Her delivery is faithful to the beat but might not strike with immediacy, but I find that more a feature than a flaw. While others might have pressed more strength to a song that starts with “I’m no man’s fantasy” to assert their point, Kari Faux sounds like she’s been there, done that. She explains it as dialog she chooses to reveal before meeting, not midway when issues arise, just so people know what they’re getting themselves into. The cool in her voice, meanwhile, makes it clear she’s not afraid to go on to the next one if they can’t handle her way.
[6]

Edward Okulicz: “Fantasy” starts coolly, just a confident pose astride a double bass and some finger clicks. By 90 seconds in, the pose has stopped being cool and Faux’s lyrics start to seem try-hard and forced. When other instruments pop in and out, it feels as if they’re covering up for a song running out of interest.
[4]

Cassy Gress: Oh man, I wish this had been sung. It almost is sung! I can hear the pitches of the tune under her rap, and with that lounge-noir beat, her slow, almost conversational rap sounds passive.
[5]

Katie Gill: I get why Kari Faux is reciting these lyrics in a borderline monotone. She’s broken and has been through enough relationships that she’s resigned to the fact that any inevitable future relationship isn’t going to work. She’s given up, and nowhere is that more apparent than her tone. That being said, I honestly don’t know if the tone works or not. Her bored monotone and the pseudo-improvised jazz stylings backing leave something that feels exceedingly and purposefully disjointed. Which is probably the point — but I’m still on the fence if it actually works.
[6]