The Singles Jukebox

One of those days, I guess…

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[6.29]

Al Shipley: At first this sounded surprisingly harsh and flatfooted, even for a street single, even from someone whose radio singles typically sound like other rappers’ street singles. But as the song made its unlikely ascent up the radio charts, those quarter note blats of bass and halting hi-hat triplets started to feel massive and anthemic. Even Plies, never the best thing about his own songs, repeats his “Wasted” trick of 12 perfectly over-the-top bars, informing us that the broads call him fantastical (or is it fantastico?).
[8]

Martin Skidmore: Jeezy’s one of my favourite rappers, with an intensity to his tone that few can approach. Team that with Drumma Boy, one of the best producers around, who provides a beat that is both menacing and bright, and Plies, a very suitable partner for Jeezy sonically despite the often unappetising glee in his bragging, and you have a major winner. For me, it’s one of the strongest hip hop singles of the year so far.
[10]

Jonathan Bogart: Thoroughly agreeable, utterly inessential. But hell, essentiality’s overrated anyway.
[7]

Katherine St Asaph: Nice to hear a song about alcohol that actually sounds like booze was involved. The beat reels and stumbles to great effect, and Jeezy sounds like he’ll forget the whole verse within the hour. It’s woozy and wonderful — that is, until Plies appears in what I can only imagine is an attempt to challenge 3OH!3 as the most dislikable performer today. If he’d have gotten just one more line, the whole track would be ruined.
[6]

John Seroff: I’ve yet to hear a verse rendered in Jeezy’s throaty whine of a rap style that’s held my attention longer than fifteen seconds; four minutes of uninspired trap ramble over wheedling, unimaginative production is a chore. Plies’ clenched-teeth homage to Crunchy Black injects much needed manic life into this somnambulist march, but still not enough to make “Lose My Mind” anything more than tedious.
[2]

Chuck Eddy: Grunts like they’re nostalgic for crunk, which usually would get on my nerves, but come off good-humored here, somehow — doubt I’ll still think that if I listen closer, but at this point I like that orange and black reminds them of Halloween.
[6]

Michaelangelo Matos: The yelling in the middle enlivens it quite a bit, but so would a special guest interlude from the band Low.
[5]