CONFIDENTIAL to A.S.: Looks like you’re good.

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Alfred Soto: I can’t remember if I ever called a dance track “treacly,” but what else to call those major key synths?
[5]

Patrick St. Michel: AlunaGeorge are at their best when George messes around with vocals, like on “Your Drums, Your Love” and “Put Up Your Hands.” This year-old track is no slouch though. It’s appropriate it’s getting rolled out again as the pair prep their debut album, as “You Know You Like It” highlights what makes both of them great. This isn’t his best production work, but George still shows off his chops well here, while Aluna’s voice sounds especially clean and good (in particular, that “if you want to train me” bit). They have much better songs, but this is as good an intro as you could ask for.
[8]

Iain Mew: I do indeed! Especially the bits that sound like a spikier, stranger “Turn Off the Lights”.
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Daniel Montesinos-Donaghy: In internet years, this is a bonafide oldie. With AlunaGeorge’s debut LP coming next month, it feels odd that the duo would trot “You Know You Like It” back out over something unheard and fresh. The reason behind this choice has to be that “You Know” is a good enough song — glimmering, punchy, seductive — to deserve a re-release. Aluna Francis sings about the pressure to “not [tip] the scales” then shrugs it off: “I just won’t play.” In re-releasing this song they’ve underlined their aesthetic to a new audience while coolly reminding a familiar audience of their poise and songwriting nous. They’re playing by their own rules, and it’s exciting to be reminded of what they’ve accomplished thus far.
[8]

Daisy Le Merrer: George has learned to make his beats tighter on subsequent singles, and Aluna is more confident now, but this is still a bit stranger and sexier than what came after. It’s also less of a song and more of a series of production tricks, but it works.
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Katherine St Asaph: Like some #deepbrandyalbumcut exhumed by blog kids then covered dead: well-curated and meticulous but grooveless. Is this going to be a thing, recycling old buzz singles? If so, can it sound less like regression?
[6]

Crystal Leww: Aluna as a vocalist has managed to become a mind-bending combination of both critically acclaimed and yet still underrated right now. George deserves a lot of credit for his production; every single iteration of the same line seem just as new and heartbreaking as the first time. 
[8]

Brad Shoup: Are we positive we haven’t covered this? Hearing it again, I’m now reminded of the Nyusha single we just covered. The bass struts but doesn’t dominate; AlunaGeorge are content to shimmer. It’s breezy, it’s jazzy, and it’s of no major consequence.
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Scott Mildenhall: This is just as great as it was last year, and just as easy to tag with such sibilant selections of descriptors as “sleek, slinky, seductive and should be a hit this time round if all goes to plan”. But what is it actually about? The accusation of shame and to a lesser extent the refusal to be “heads or tails” evoke “Can you forgive her?”, but thankfully the PSB’s notion of the former seems too passé in 2013 (or 2012, or 2011 or whatever) for a similar idea to have been the intention. Either line could mean anything really, and that’s probably the point, but the mesh of Aluna’s vague declarations of independence in the verses and her more specific, direct allegations in the chorus isn’t quite clear.
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Will Adams: “What you gonna do?” asks Aluna Francis, as if you have a choice other than to submit to her ineffable cool. Hear how quietly the chorus announces itself; some soft backing vocals and a synth sweep are all that differentiates it from the verses. It’s as unexplosive as possible but just as compelling. The updated video solidifies the nuanced performance: despite the brightly costumed extras and sharp dance moves, Francis remains the center of attention, stealing the spotlight with minimal, almost improvised, dancing and a more monochrome palette (meanwhile, George Reid does even less, gazing blankly into the camera). When the majority of stateside pop strives for maximalism, it’s refreshing to hear something so understated stand out as one of the best releases of the year.
[9]

Edward Okulicz: Sass poised halfway between Robyn and Nelly Furtado, if not vocally than in musical spirit, is a good building block. But this chorus isn’t even a mild earworm, let alone one to drive you insane. Just about everything else is here — AlunaGeorge remain perfect blogbait. The perfect song for their sound remains elusive.
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