But we don’t…

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[2.86]

Jonathan Bradley: THINGS! CAN ONLY GET BLANDER! CAN ONLY GET BLANDER! NOW I’VE FOUND YOU!
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Katherine St Asaph: A squishy blob of fake uplift that swerves from boring to downright audacious every time the lyrics don’t just imply but actually say “it gets better,” unearned. Hey, Dan Savage: if you ever read this, wouldn’t “Enrique” make a great new term?
[2]

Hazel Robinson: Are Enrique and Pitbull making a joint album called What I Did On My Gap Year? Unlike the giggling, stumbling “I Like It,” this is a clumsy, incoherent Ibiza pound that returns to that bastardly guitar often enough that I can hear the dreadlocks forming on white guys. Not even the incredibly loveliness of Enrique can rescue this.
[1]

Jer Fairall: Enrique and Pitbull represent one prominent strain of particularly unpleasant of hetero male, yet here they are on this scorchingly gay track, spiked with rave synths, “it gets better” references and set amidst a dreamy dancefloor utopia. I’m inclined to assume that most of this was unwitting, but I never would have thought that Pitbull had the capacity to identify mediocrity, either. 
[4]

Jonathan Bogart: Victory laps are victory laps: Quique’s finally established himself as a regular American English-language top-of-the-charts presence, so he throws himself a party, and of course the other guest of honor is the dude who got him there. Neither of them work very hard to show us how hard they work; the pleasures of the song, such as they are, are in the glossy electro verses rather than the big stomping chorus.
[5]

Brad Shoup: Enrique’s “Living After Midnight,” and I’m not so sure the Priest would have been served by the addition of whistling. Iglesias might better fit the caddish mold if he got gone by the end of at least one of his singles. The “whoa”s sound like the work of just two guys, the whistling is listless — even Mr. Worldwide doesn’t bother to namecheck his vodka. It’s probably enough to ship a bunch of re-releases, but at least his previous singles didn’t come trapped in amber.
[4]

Edward Okulicz: When Enrique launches into a chorus and gets all excited, he just sounds like an overeager yelping dog with one trick. As a matter of fact, isn’t that what he is?
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