Nine Doja Cat singles reviewed, nine scores between [4.62] and [6.38]. We operate on a “Need To Know” stasis…
[Video]
[5.12]
Wayne Weizhen Zhang: For an artist that has built her career by expertly navigating the contours of virality, Doja Cat still has yet to create a whole, genuinely amazing song worthy of her talent. “Need To Know” exemplifies this: the relentlessly paced, horniness Olympics, alien sex aesthetic makes a lot of noise, but what’s left when the loudness settles is a series of one-liners without any true standout moments.
[5]
Leah Isobel: “Need To Know” is the closest Doja’s gotten to making her idiosyncrasies fit cleanly into a single. From the seduction-becoming-threat of “spank me, slap me, choke me, bite me” to the rollercoaster “oh-whoa-whoa” hook, her vocal smears the performance of her sexuality into hysterical, uncomfortable cartoonishness. That confrontational edge suggests that the centerpiece here isn’t her screaming about 10/10 dick but her calm assertion that “I mean what I write.” As an expression of control, it’s a blast to hear; given the production credits, I still can’t enjoy it as much as I want to.
[6]
Edward Okulicz: Hey, look, it’s Grimes in the video, and I could almost believe this was recorded after a heavily stoned Elon Musk flew Dr Luke to Mars to produce it in a thin, bleak atmosphere while suffering from spacesickness. Doja Cat’s performance is desirous and occasionally ear-shattering, but it feels like work to get through three minutes poring over the same gritty terrain. Desperately needs someone to write a completely new track for her vocal.
[5]
Oliver Maier: Gallons of jet fuel expended on a trip to nowhere in particular. When Doja’s delivery is frantic and comically horned-up it feels at odds with the beat, a pale vortex that deflects humour and eroticism. When she cools down to match it, the song is just dull.
[4]
Thomas Inskeep: We get it, we get it: you like to have sex and make deathly boring pop records, same as it ever was.
[1]
Andrew Karpan: Not going to lie: I felt the Blade Runner vibe before I saw the clip and I’m not going to say I don’t resent team Doja for beating me to the punch. But it’s a good bit; writing off Doja as horny-on-main-for-lolz has always missed the point. Even if nobody wants to take a Dr. Luke-produced sex jam seriously — for good reason! — somebody might as well, if only because nobody else is putting out Doja records. And Doja records are great, because who else sings so precisely about the physical performance of yearning, the body as an instrument molded nightly into an image of desirability? “I do what I can to get you off,” she says on “Need To Know,” her voice sputtering, overwhelmed not by pleasure but the sheer unsatisfying thrum of wanting, also known as the blues, which comes here by way of Vangelis.
[8]
Nortey Dowuona: The chomping synths swerve across the bulbous bass as Doja catapults across it, catches their mane and rides them easily, laughing at our shock. Then she does an amazing cartwheel across the belly and lands on the synths’ back, purring in delight.
[8]
Alfred Soto: She gulps, snaps syllables, and squeaks like prime Lene Lovich on a production in need of full habitation.
[4]