The Singles Jukebox

So there’ve been a few developments since the last time around…

[Video]
[5.17]

Rachel Saywitz:
Improv Player 1: That new Ariana Grande single is really growing on me. 

Edward Okulicz: “Vogue,” if written by committee, with an extra dose of pandering and a terrible chorus and the distinct stink of trying too hard. So not actually very much like “Vogue,” I suppose. But “Yes, And?” is otherwise so featureless and uninteresting that considering its intent — probably to hoover up as much discourse as it can like a black hole that lives on the Internet — is more interesting than trying to tease out any real musical merit.
[4]

Leah Isobel: Okay, yeah, “Vogue” interpolation, whatever. “Yes, And?” actually reminds me of teenpop-era Robyn: check the verse chord progression that feels both weightless and constantly inverting, like riding a conveyor belt on the ceiling of an airport terminal. But where Robyn’s fur-lined voice warmed up Max Martin’s antiseptic interiors, Ariana’s silvery perfection only enhances the song’s posthuman qualities. That’s not to say she doesn’t convey emotion, but that the way she does it is so glossy and CGI-smooth that the emotion she conveys seems elevated above actual humanity. (This is why you can plop her voice into a video game, and it makes perfect sense.) She’s like a pop fairy godmother or possibly a good witch, entering from another plane of reality to whisper and belt and inspire. I’m sure this is an unbelievably exhausting position to be in — the very cool and vaguely discomfiting vocal processing on the prickly bridge indicates as such. But “Yes, And?” still seems beholden to that image, its pneumatic airlessness overwhelming. I like it, but I don’t know if Ariana does.
[6]

Ian Mathers: “Yes, And?” is probably not an improv reference in context, but it’s also not the meme I was thinking about (that’d be “And what about it?”). The energy is similar, though, with some weird offshoots. There’s one lyric that always makes me think it’s the “like their father or their dog just died” bit from Cohen’s “Everybody Knows,” and on the other hand there’s the whole “my tongue is sacred”/energy stuff that kinda lands with a thud. Luckily the production is gently bumping enough and the chorus scans just on the right side of enjoyably enjambed that even if I still find Grande a little indistinct as a performer, I’m not going to be pissed if I start hearing this all the time.
[7]

Maddie Lee: It seems inevitable that there was a Madonna follow-up to Beyoncé’s Malcolm McLaren. The two-chord progression of “Yes, And?” can be traced back to the “Love Groove” section of MFSB’s “Love is the Message,” a song that embodied the plush, feminine drama of the pre-Masters at Work ballroom era (as echoed in “Deep in Vogue”). When “Yes, And?” invokes it, it’s merely ready-to-wear glamour, much like the image of putting one’s lipstick on. I find “Vogue” more fun to listen to than “Deep in Vogue”, and I can’t deny the instant pleasure of “Yes, And?” If only “And what about it?” scanned better lyrically.
[6]

Taylor Alatorre: A familiar-sounding and overly labored slice of diva house that’s unremarkable aside from the way that Ariana turns herself into a Vocaloid for the title phrase, which serves the song well as an aural trademark, even as it constantly threatens to float away and attach itself to a different song entirely.
[5]

Isabel Cole: It’s punctuated like a question, but I can’t stop hearing it as the improv troupe’s imperative—yes, and!—as though the song is instructing the listener to proceed stumbling through life’s hurdles with little heed for coherence or curveballs. Somehow it works in the song’s favor to take it in the spirit of pretend. The first rule of songs about how you totally don’t care about the haters is, of course, that they are universally released by people who care a lot, but few singers in the genre have sounded less convincingly carefree than Ariana. The bridge in particular descends or erupts, depending on your perspective, into a masterclass in passive-aggression so blatantly delivered with a smile on her face and daggers in her eyes that I have to laugh even though I, like every other human on earth, will never hear this song without thinking about the real-world mess that precipitated it. Kind of annoying, a little bit funny—like I said: improv.
[6]

Michael Hong: This is like when your friend does something awful and goes “bye, so done with the drama,” then proceeds to log back into Instagram a day later. It’s fun to watch! The message of self-love rings a bit hollow, but it’s a decent time regardless.
[6]

Andrew Karpan: An almost movingly empty pop record that has the peculiar dignity to name itself that, betraying a sense of humor that evokes both the highs and lows of HBO’s The Idol.
[3]

Jackie Powell: Ariana Grande catapulted herself into the upper echelon of the pop world by putting out music that addressed and reflected upon her personal plight. This worked beautifully with “Thank U, Next,” where she altered the way artists can reflect upon their relationships without being spiteful and petty. And don’t forget about the music video, where Grande brought Mean Girls back into the cultural zeitgeist years before Reneé Rapp did. Grande attempts to get the same result with “yes, and?” over five years later, but does it work? Not in the same way. There’s a new personal life situation she’s singing about, but this time it’s unethical, and there’s no debating that. She sure does try, though, in her own version of Lady Gaga’s “Do What U Want” — remember, that song where Gaga spoke about the gossip writers and the paparazzi whose criticism felt suffocating? (And yes there was an embarrassing feature on there, but that’s not the point.) What I found insensitive about “yes, and?” was the group of people that Grande vilified in the music video. The intro features people who she deems to be “the critics”: people who are critical of what Grande’s music is like in addition to the person she is. Although Grande’s privacy and personal life are being violated by the gossip media, she conflates music criticism and those who write about music not just for clicks with those who do. Her timing to jab music criticism when it’s in freefall is indicative of how artists have forgotten or don’t care about its purpose: not simply aiming to be critical, but rather to make sense of the next step in Grande’s discography. Sonically, “Yes, And?” might be an even catchier single than “Thank U, Next”: Max Martin and ILYA constructed an interpolation of Madonna’s “Vogue” that sounds and feels fresh, rather than completely ripping off the source material. (Yes, I’m looking at you “7 Rings.”) But the whole point of “Vogue” was to encourage self-expression and empowerment. Grande tries to do that with phrases like “be your own fuckin’ best friend,” but the song doesn’t get there because of the people she ices out. It’s ironic, because the first verse of “Yes, And?” is all about how everyone is “healin’ from somebody or somethin’ we don’t see.” 
[6]

Mark Sinker: The English actor whining about hummus in the skit at the start of the vid gives me nasty skin-prickle (inventing opposition this gratingly fake is bad pushback against pushback); and yet when the hatas and the critics do gather (my critics which are mine), I too will always put on my mimsiest little flimsiest little voice and tell them “BE YR OWN FKN VEST!” And OK, as advice “turn on your light” isn’t that much of a counter to the advancing Lynchian dark (a Lynch-light always hums and flickers), but what is a counter (underplayed, on a repeat note) is the Madonnoid “ — and — ”… So the pushback won’t stop, no, but we are at a likeable enough dynamic impasse.
[7]

Alex Clifton: I was really hoping this would be a cover of the Kelly Clarkson/Ed Sheeran song, but my dreams were dashed. This is “No Tears Left to Cry”-lite, tackling the same topic but in a deeply different context. “No Tears” was born out of the trauma of a terrorist attack; “Yes, And?” stems from a PR crisis painting Grande as a homewrecker. I too get frustrated when tabloids get bogged down in the personal details of female stars’ lives, but the SpongeBob affair has been so unabashedly messy that it’s really hard to ignore. Something about the IDGAF attitude in this rubs me absolutely the wrong way and somehow magnifies the circumstances rather than sweeping them under the rug. “No Tears” works, in part, because it’s blissfully escapist from some of the most horrific stuff on the planet. This song feels more like an unhealthy, willful denial of reality. It’s immensely catchy, and usually I’m way more forgiving for catchy, but that can’t save Grande this time.
[4]

Katherine St. Asaph: When listening to songs like “Yes, And?” I often try to imagine the reaction not by someone plugged into stan culture and fandoms and tabloid drama, but by casual listeners of top 40 radio — the people once called Local Twitter. Tabloids, fandoms, and stan culture are popular enough even among casual listeners that perhaps this isn’t a large group, but surely there must be at least one such person. “Yes, And?” is basically “Vogue” via the unbothered/in my lane/moisturized meme, and shorn of all other context, it could simply be a slinky midtempo confidence-booster about rising above a dark situation, like “No Tears Left to Cry” before it. Except the “dark situation” “Yes, And?” presents itself as panacea and strut-soundtrack for is not experiencing horrifying violence as on “No Tears,” or having panic attacks as on “Breathin,” or even offending the institutions of patriotism and donut hygiene, but a new relationship that Occam’s Razor suggests involved cheating with someone who just had a kid with his ex-wife. I can’t say that shit with my chest without the interior of my chest raising some objections. The biographical criticism would be unfair if Ariana didn’t bring the situation into the song itself, and my stance remains unchanged: at least own your decisions! Instead, we have a “yes, and?” chorus that is snappy and thought-terminating in a “u mad?” kind of way but that does not actually say the real shit, let alone with one’s chest; it’s anti-introspection disguised as acceptance. That’s the moral critique. The practical critique is that while “Yes, And?” is partly a song about how Ariana doesn’t owe the parasocial fixation of hecklers any details of whatever internal reckoning she may or may not be having, it’s also a song written as inspirational advice to its listeners. And by dragging in the whole sordid affair, Ariana turns a broad song about any number of dark situations into a narrow song about her own dark situation. Unless you can relate in that specific way, why wouldn’t you just listen to Ariana’s other songs instead? They sound the same.
[5]

Nortey Dowuona: Me: Fam if you willingly go along with 4 guys willing to break up their relationships to be with you, you might need to start picking unattached dudes who are actually loyal.
Ari: yes, and?
me: …………ok fine you’re right. the song is still mid tho.
[4]

Jacob Satter: Grande and her team’s skill at hitting the big red DISCOURSE button (apparently four notable instances over three years is a trend now?) underlies her considerable, consistent skill at making a silk purse out of half a pop song. Disappointingly, “yes, and?” is more high-quality knockoff than true designer. Rather than teasing her new album, Ariana is shopping a haughtier attitude and a fresh cut facade, leaving “yes” without the burr to merit continued rub.  
[6]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: The verses are slick, their conversational tone and criss-crossing harmonies filled with a congenial air. For the first single of a new era, it feels expertly non-descript. Grande sounds like the older sister you eagerly look to for inspiration, the kind who casually imparts wisdom while powdering her face. And then the chorus arrives to dilute the message: simplistic in its melodic phrasing, hokey in its lyricism, and not catchy either. It feels, frankly, like she’s trying too hard; even then, a more robust arrangement could’ve made this go down easier. As is, I find it hard to imagine luxuriating in these sounds on the dancefloor. By the time she mentions her current partner, I’ve lost interest.
[4]

Dave Moore: I hated Lady Gaga’s “Born This Way” for its wan Madonna hijacking, so I suppose, this being even an even wanner wannabe, I should be commensurately less kind. But I have mellowed in my old age — I can’t muster more than a “meh.” 
[5]

Alfred Soto: A crunchy pop house track with piano clang, “Yes, And?” suits Ariana Grande’s insouciant, scratchy tones. I’ll dance to it despite verses >>> chorus. 
[7]

Kayla Beardslee: Light and floaty vocal performance plus light and floaty instrumental equals nothing to tie the groove to earth.
[5]

Harlan Talib Ockey: It’s lifeless. It’s barely recognizable as Ariana Grande. It’s a washed-out house version of “You Need to Calm Down,” equating queer pride to Ariana’s audacity during her cheating scandal. What if “Vogue” was beige?
[3]

Jibril Yassin: It’s baffling to hear an Ariana Grande song that commands so little attention, whether it be the middling verses that speak of nothing, a chorus that fails to jump beyond the uninspiring production, or a bridge that can’t seem to muster up more than a send-up of the eyebrows. 
[4]

Wayne Weizhen Zhang: You know your attempt at some dancefloor anthem catharsis falls flat when the AI RuPaul version sounds more cunt than you. It’s a soft chop for me. 
[5]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: When she sings here, Ariana is all too vague; her (gorgeous as always) voice is used to deliver platitudes that are less than meaningless (“or something we don’t see just right” sounds like a Max Martin x Predictive Text co-write.) When she speaks it’s even worse; spending 15 percent of your comeback single giving a state-of-the-notion-of-celebrity address is not only uneconomical, but isn’t the kind of excess that awes or excites, either. If there’s anything here, it’s in the beat; she’s always been among our most skilful pop stars at making dance music you can actually dance to, and regardless of the obvious antecedents here I can still get down to this. Pity about everything else, though!
[4]