The Singles Jukebox

It’s about time for her arrival…

[Video]
[6.33]

Nortey Dowuona: No.
[1]

Katherine St Asaph: Christina Aguilera is perhaps the most unfairly maligned female artist of the past decade, thanks to that old misogynistic saw of woman as too much: too much voice, too much sexuality, too much body, too much brashness, nothing like the coquettes or blank vessels of her cohort (Britney, Mandy, Jessica). So Louisa Johnson blatantly pastiching “Dirrty,” quoted lines and all, is welcome: not remotely believable, but neither was Stripped then. 2 Chainz’ Hurricane Maria line is kinda like Daily Beast’s “as the waves and wind screamed it was the people who were crying and praying” horrendousness; I guess each generation gets the pop-rapper it deserves.
[7]

Will Adams: Lest there be any confusion about the source of inspiration here, we’ve got, in no particular order: “sweat dripping all over my body”; “ring the alarm”; ensuing alarms; four-to-the-floor rumble; over-the-top, tell-don’t-show renouncement of innocence. But “Dirrty” is pop gold worthy of being revived a decade and a half later, and Louisa Johnson is surprisingly up to the task.
[8]

Alfred Soto: Its thump-thump attitude a throwback to Christina Aguilera’s “Dirrty,” its Chainz bit a slight tip of the hat to British garage, “Yes” plays as if it had the Meadowlands to itself. I hear nothing like it on the Hot 100’s top ten, and boy do we need it.
[7]

William John: The milkshake duck-ing of Louisa Johnson shortly after the release of “Yes” has tarred some of its visceral pleasures, but the pummelling horns, reminiscent of the Pussycat Dolls in their prime, are nonetheless difficult to altogether repudiate, especially when paced so breathlessly and paired with carnal pants that climb forever skyward.
[7]

Scott Mildenhall: If anyone still believed that winning a TV talent show was a shortcut to pop stardom, they should listen to the vain, #62-charting desperation of “Yes.” It is a triumph. A triumph of probable futility, yes, but its boldness is both honourable and quite exciting; certainly if you were to pair it with the hypothetical Sigala bolt-on that should probably have come in its place. And maybe there’s still time for that. Maybe people are still getting over the shock of what sounds like the song Meghan Trainor didn’t dare record. But even if not, and they go about their business unaware of the sink Louisa Johnson has stolen from their kitchen in the name of pop, a worthy claim will have been staked. If you are going to go down, go down fighting.
[8]