The Singles Jukebox

Why don’t you introduce us, Olly?

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[6.00]

Will Adams: But you do know “Run Away With Me.”
[6]

Katie Gill: I keep getting Olly Alexander and Olly Murs confused, probably because I’m still not entirely certain Olly’s an actual NAME. And while this is perfectly serviceable radio fare, even if the vocals are way too safe and parts of it remind me too much of “Latch,” and I still find myself craving the new Years & Years song instead.
[6]

Alfred Soto: The mild electronic yearning of Years & Years has an influence on this “X-Factor” champ. Now that’s accepted he’s 20 percent gay he has more claim to these influences, right? The modern sheen of those synths inexpertly masks a dull song whose most interesting section are counterharmonies going “you you you.”
[4]

Thomas Inskeep: Proving that not all pop has been eaten by EDM, this is a big, soaring pure pop single a la the heyday of the TRL boybands, about what it’s like when love hits you. No more, no less, YMMV.
[6]

Olivia Rafferty: Is it the mark of a good production when it sounds just like a lost Bieber track? This probably isn’t Murs’ best song yet, but it feels like the first one that’s managed to distance him completely from the X-Factor studios.
[5]

Lilly Gray: I was ready to ditch this song until the goofy chorus broke open with that synth and the beach-runner beat. Murs veers a little Maroon 5 at certain notes, but this is is fun and bratty and the clear, lifting one-two ring of those synths almost makes up for the humdrum everything else. Kind of a Target-brand Footloose number–danceable, yet not too sturdy.
[6]

Edward Okulicz: There’s really something to be said for an irony-free pop belter. Irony is the curse of the male soloist and makes me long for the days of old British boybands who really felt it; this would actually have been a terrific turn-of-the-millennium boyband song. Murs is an uncommonly transparent and earnest performer and that makes him somewhat annoying a lot of the time, but it works really well here because he’s not afraid to ham it up and do some performative emotional shredding. It’s all fake, but it’s real enough — I recoil at fake screen blood too.
[8]

Katherine St Asaph: Olly Murs has found the one end to which his Soylent-paste vocal is actually useful: redoing “Latch” except fumigated of all Sam Smith screech.
[5]

Scott Mildenhall: Something Olly Murs succeeds at and doesn’t do often enough is bludgeoning emotion. What reads like an ill-advised Facebook post sounds like the most rousing oratory going here, all throbbing and hammering and just holding off shouting. Had this been sung by a sad guy with a guitar, it would be awful; as a rare unabashed male pop musician, Olly Murs is a blessing.
[8]