The Singles Jukebox

More punchy than sucks…

[Video]
[6.82]

William John: After a string of relative disappointments — the first few tracks from the Raw EP dampened much of the sky-high hype that had accumulated from her 2017 singles — Sigrid offers some course correction with an enormous chorus, as bracing as the song’s title. But the thrills extend beyond the hook. “Both our hoodies red/You’re in my head” is a clever couplet, neatly encapsulating the giddy sensation felt when discovering even the silliest, smallest coincidences between oneself and a crush.
[7]

Vikram Joseph: “Sucker Punch” is the ideal follow-up to the terrific “Schedules” — they’re both slightly sour but ecstatic-sounding Scandi bubblegum (not far from Tove Styrke’s Sway EP or MØ’s riotously good Jack Antonoff collaboration), and they form a neat thematic segue from a fling on the run to something more emotionally visceral. The downshifting vocals and synths at the end of each verse are a great touch, sensitizing my synapses for the sweet, caffeinated hit of the chorus (with its strangely turn-of-the-millennium-sounding chord progression). The genuinely unexpected dropping-out of the music before the final chorus has a similar impact.
[8]

Alfred Soto: I hear no formal connection between Sigrid’s chorus falsetto and the central conceit, but it’s a strong hook on its own, competing with the synthesized whistles and bells garnishing the verses. 
[6]

Stephen Eisermann: The cool, galactic chorus and bridge save this, because I’m not sure that the experimental production choices on the verses really work. It’s just so hard to ignore that booming, anthemic chorus, partly because it sounds like — “Smoke Break” by Carrie Underwood, right?).
[6]

Katherine St Asaph: The big sucker punch of a chorus accompanying the words “sucker punch” is a pop trick almost too obvious to mention, but at least Sigrid actually bothered to do it. The rest, after her past anonymized singles, is comparatively offbeat and refreshing. It reminds me of other artists, but not to the point of being a copy, and not quite the usual names: Tove Styrke (in general, and before her anonymizing), Shakira (the vocals), Billie Eilish (the spoken-sung, distorted bits), even Kacey Musgraves (this particular use of vocoder). And is that the ending riff from “Torn” in there?
[7]

Taylor Alatorre: The verses had to be produced like one of the low-budget pop simulacra from Empire so the chorus would land that much harder and the titular phrase would be that much more pertinent. It’s the only rational explanation. As a way of generating cheap heat, this bait-and-switch is basically effective, but it’s not where most of the appeal comes from. Expansive alt-rock power chords play directly to my pleasure centers, but I find myself looking forward more to the moments where Sigrid uses the skeletal beat as an excuse to stretch out her voice and sketch out a casual, up-for-anything persona. “Both… our… hoodies red” — no one knows what it means, but it’s evocative! Songs about risk-taking should be taking risks like these.
[7]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: The verse melody here is weird enough to be arresting on first listen, as you try desperately to track its progress through a landscape of emotional ambiguity, and the (slightly) more conventional chorus and electro-tinged pop rock production don’t lose too much of that verse’s energy. Extra points for having an a cappella section that sounds actually raw and unmanicured.
[8]

Julian Axelrod: Sigrid has a way with words — not just as a lyricist, but as a voice who can warp a normal line into something unrecognizable. On paper, “Meet me in the hallway/For a cup of coffee by the stairs” is a standard come-on. But when Sigrid rolls it around in her mouth, it comes out as something strange and stirring: “Mit me in de hullweh/Fer uh cuppacuffee by deh stehrs”. It’s not just her accent, but the way she sneaks up on her lyrics and folds them in on themselves. That voice is enough to tweak these big, glittering pop confections into something beguiling and surreal. There’s something giddily subversive to the way she navigates a banger, pushing and pulling individual bricks until the whole Jenga tower’s about to collapse. But she always pulls back before the fall, delivering classic pop euphoria that leaves you wobbly and disoriented and hungry for more.
[7]

Iain Mew: The salvage job Sigrid does with the vocal is thrilling, every momentary blankness and growling edge and squeezed-in high note transforming rather basic material. It’s far from her best song, but the best evidence so far of her as a star.
[6]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: The vocalizing isn’t nearly as thrilling as what appeared on “High Five,” but this reining in allows for the straight-ahead structure and chorus to feel appropriate instead of disappointing. Which is fine, I guess. At least that final return to the chorus feels like it’s smacking you in the face.
[5]

Danilo Bortoli: On any other day, I would describe this as “Everything Is Embarrassing” designed for the chill generation, but Sigrid switches the melodrama for wittiness and hopelessness with a bit — just a bit — of happiness and optimism. “Didn’t wanna write a happy song”, but it turns out otherwise. And just like that, perfect pop™ ceases to exist as a concept and enters reality. 
[8]