The Singles Jukebox

Now we’re not saying that Daya is secretly the non-union Dua Lipa equivalent, but…

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Austin Nguyen: New “dark pop” artist just dropped.
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Katie Gill: Before clicking this video, I spent a few minutes trying to think of who Daya actually IS. Was she “Sit Still Look Pretty?” Is she the “Paris” girl? She’s not “Rockabye” but let’s be honest, she might as well be. There’s a whole roster of the Bebe Rexhas of the world, B to C list singers who labels keep trying to make a THING, pairing them up with the Chainsmokers and Calvin Harrises of the world, despite the fact that (or probably because) they have no sonic identity of their own. To Daya’s credit, she’s at least trying to come up with a unique and identifiable sound here! Unfortunately, that sound is Diet Dua Lipa.
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John Seroff: For a celebration of bisexual identity as youthful indiscretion, whether as dreampop or as a dance track, there’s not a whole lot going on with “Bad Girl” that hasn’t been done multiple times better and before. I’m getting distinct notes of “New Rules” but the overriding flavor is very Puth-y… which is not the best look here. I suppose there’s something to be celebrated in the realization that these sort of coquettish coming-out songs are nearing cliché; perhaps we can commemorate that moment with something slightly less by-the-numbers?
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Katherine St Asaph: A slick rearrangement of the bad-boy and good-girls-gone-bad tropes that saturate pop — including Daya’s own “Hide Away.” I’m not sure the conceit totally works, since the phrases aren’t equal — “bad boy” connotes someone dangerous to others, while “bad girl” someone dangerous to herself — and the lyric makes the distinction but clumsily. But the lyric was certainly begging to be written, waiting for the year you could get a bisexual pop song on Top 40 radio. The song, too, is slick, assembled as it is from various bangers. Producers Jack & Coke do their best 2015 Max Martin synthmood. The intro is very “The Boy Is Mine,” the “want want”s in the chorus a little “Rude Boy.” Daya’s vocal is great too; her high range is an airy sigh, her low range is less of a honk, and her delivery is vulnerable without becoming the outright masochism of her earlier stuff.
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Samson Savill de Jong: What would happen if Dua Lipa was queer and her songs referenced it? It’d probably sound a lot like this by Daya. In other words, it’s pretty good (although the end wears itself out a little bit). 
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Oliver Maier: Pleasant but just too smooth, assembled with almost palpable disinterest. Daya is a non-entity, the beat chugs along placidly and the pre-chorus melody sounds recycled from about a million other songs just like this one. Playlist filler bathed in bisexual lighting is still playlist filler.
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Alfred Soto: A strong hook, no doubt, and from its resemblance to “Can’t Feel My Face” and its nod toward Halsey’s “Strangers.” Daya’s mildly queer tune is contemporaneity itself, down to the absence of a strong verse.
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Michael Hong: Its background is all shadows, ripe with possibility — potentially sexual, maybe even dangerous. But when it gets stripped back after the bridge, it simply exposes how repetitive the track is, how limp it feels. Just wish Daya could live up to her background’s promise.
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