The Singles Jukebox

And we owe it all to you…

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[5.75]

Will Adams: Strange, I like the concept of Pitbull and Ne-Yo performing on a Kylie Minogue track in theory so much more than I do in practice.
[6]

Edward Okulicz: This ode to a cheap night out to make you forget that you have no money sounds like it was made on a tight budget and cobbled together from what was available. Which, when you think about it is more responsible than spending money at the club when you can’t make rent (just don’t ask me for a loan and say it’s for rent money, Armando, I’m on to you, dude). But it’s quite charming how 15-year-old tinny filter disco touches up the occasional lyrical flourish that calls out “Drop It Like It’s Hot” or that squirrel line, which will forever be associated with “Gonna Make You Sweat.” Ne-Yo is also kind of in budget not-trying mode. But all of these things work and suit the song really well, and it’s catchy, and Pit’s dad-joke punchlines are delivered with great dad-timing. Sometimes Mr Worldwide’s lowest-common-denominator net-casting goes so wide and is so damned efficient that I feel like so much sea life caught in a drift net. Resistance is pleasureless.
[8]

Katherine St Asaph: If Owl City’s take on good times evoked institutionalized cheer, this evokes the sluggishness and forced get-go of dragging yourself out of bed and into the shower when you really don’t want to leave the house or even move, because you might enjoy yourself, right? Invariably, you never do.
[1]

Alfred Soto: Pitbull still sounds like Yosemite Sam singing La Traviata, but thanks to Ne-Yo and the Chaka Khan sample used best on Stardust’s “Music Sounds Better with You,” this rehash of “Give Me Everything” improves on the original. But the Rick Scott supporter can’t resist the sermon. Yeah, the poor should be grateful they’re not dead, but having pocket money to download this from iTunes after paying the rent and buying groceries isn’t a bad thing.
[4]

Brad Shoup: There might be a couple Pitbulls here: one of ’em sticks to the theme, or maybe it’s better to say the second Pitbull’s the one who won’t even hint at where that $20 could be going. He’s just taking his cues from a wealth of pop music; there are spots when he does a really convincing Pitbull impression. Ne-Yo is the one dabbing the details in: going disco glam in the outro, affecting a convincing weariness in the intro, and spending the bridge gently counseling you in a quiet corner of the club.
[6]

Patrick St. Michel: So this is growing up. It wasn’t too long ago when the dominant pop trope was treating a night out at the club as a last-night-alive deal, youthful abandon made into the peak of one’s existence. Now a night out at the club isn’t a high point, but just an escape from reality. “Time of Our Lives” is more or less an upbeat “Club Going Up On A Tuesday,” but it contains an unease that dampers the mood ever so slightly. Pitbull is his usual goofy self, but even his usual corny mugging takes on a new somberness when surrounded by Ne-Yo’s hook, which is the high point here, even if the tofu filter-house music comes close. 
[8]

Thomas Inskeep: The filter-disco effects make it Pitbull’s least objectionable single in maybe ever. Ne-Yo is reduced to hook singer here, which is a shame. I can see this being a slow-burn late-winter smash, or alternately, a huge flop. It’s not nearly as obnoxiously aggro as most of Pitbull’s material, which artistically is to its merit, and commercially could be to its detriment.
[5]

Crystal Leww: There’s a new piece about millennials probably getting published right now, and it’ll be full of assertive generalizations about laziness and being lost and being financially unstable. It will inspire a ton of eye-rolling from millennials who know that this shit got fucked up because of your generation, who left us with all this broken shit, who devalued our labor by not paying interns and who raised our rents. I love Ne-Yo’s hook because I get it; I know too many of my friends who know that dental insurance is important but it’s also expensive and it seems impossible and wow, that weekend getting dressed up and taking shots is easy, attainable and feels good. It’s maybe a little irresponsible, but I don’t care; it’s my life and stop telling me what to do, because you and your friends fucked it up for me. Pitbull is that guy who never wants to condescend, the one who says, “That sucks; let’s party!” I don’t need a lecture. I need an anthem for those whiskey fueled nights of short-term relief.
[8]