The Singles Jukebox

JUKEBOX TRIVIA TIME: Despite her decades of songwriting, prior to today Priscilla Renea’s only mentions on the Jukebox were in reviews for Sabrina Carpenter, Shontelle, and Akon…

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[6.55]

Nortey Dowuona: Priscilla Renea had two solo records in 2009 and 2018, both good, but they sank into the ocean. In between, she wrote “California King Bed,” “Who Says,” “I’m a Diamond,” “Worth It,” “Bottom of the Bottle,” and “Love So Soft.” Then out of nowhere, a simple little ditty called “Hrs and Hrs” turned Priscilla Renea into Muni Long, 2000s R&B lifer. Priscilla seized her chance, dropping an EP and album both called Public Displays of Affection — neither of which you have heard or have heard described to you until now. “Made for Me” is a neat, well-made version of what Renea was writing for Tamar Braxton, Monica, Mary J. Blige, K Michelle, Fantasia and Ariana Grande, and it wouldn’t have been as good if they sang it. Her voice, wispy and light yet sharp and tight, navigates smooth little runs that allow her to slip out little phrases and simple words and imbue them with weight, where someone like Grande or Michelle would oversell or crumble. “Twin…where have you been” is such a potent, aching plea in her voice that it started another massive trend, led by this absolute icon and culminating in this little gem and this excellent performance. Muni Long is made for this moment. I hope her next album is made to be remembered.
[10]

TA Inskeep: An elegant, piano-led R&B ballad reminiscent of Toni Braxton’s Imperial Phase work with Babyface, this is incredibly lovely.
[8]

Alfred Soto: I can hear Keyshia Cole singing this sturdy ballad about a dozen years ago. 
[6]

Jeffrey Brister: I have no idea how long it’s been since I’ve heard this kind of soft-lit, radio-ready-for-2000 R&B. It’s a really nice replica of a form I don’t really hear much anymore, but nothing about it is particularly distinctive, no twists or winks or nods to modern production beyond a rolling kick in the chorus. There’s a bit more polish on the metal, but it’s the same shape as always.
[5]

Katherine St. Asaph: Priscilla Renea’s breakthrough arrives, by… changing her name and making a Babyface homage with few concessions to modern R&B? Given the industry’s bifurcation of years-past debut artists into either successful or failed-to-launch brands, creating a new identity makes unfortunate mercenary sense. (The “Muni Long” moniker is, according to Renea, the “protector of Priscilla.” My grand theory on this — which, to be clear, is 100% absolutely not true — is that the quote isn’t in fact Vogue-feature woo, and instead she’s just a Dark Souls stan.) As for the latter: Like Jack Antonoff (and unlike, say, Bonnie McKee or Ester Dean), Renea was chameleonic as a songwriter — compare any given three tracks, say Train’s “Drink Up,” Selena Gomez’s “Who Says,” and Fifth Harmony’s “Worth It” — and comfortable adapting to any genre that solicited pop songs. (And she knows it.) That’s perhaps why she can merge so well into this vintage-Monica guise. Just, uh, assume that when she says “twin” she means “twin flame.”
[7]

Ian Mathers: That piano sound is Adult Contemporary enough it sounds like it drives a sensible sedan, and I mean that as a compliment. As a twin myself, I continue to be quietly freaked out whenever the word is evoked in a romantic context, but other than that this is nice, especially when she gets impassioned on the chorus.
[6]

Taylor Alatorre: There’s a lot of work that goes into constructing a memorable hook consisting of a single word, and unlike Muni Long I’m not a songwriter by trade so I can’t tell you exactly how it’s done. But in architectural terms, it seems to be comparable to the laying of a cornerstone, in the modern ceremonial sense rather than in the older, Biblical one. The rest of the building has to come first, and only then can the stone be slotted into its designated place of prominence. Muni enunciates the word “twin” like a child pointing at an object that she’s just learned a new word for, and the quiet simplicity of this moment, brimming with a well-earned sense of sureness, seems to embody all of the song’s desires and inspirations within itself. 
[8]

Isabel Cole: A competently executed heartbreak jam about being unable to let go, maybe the first Big On TikTok song I’ve encountered where I get the appeal. “Body to body / skin to skin” is a nice interjection of remembered intimacy in the plaintive wail of the chorus.
[6]

Oliver Maier: Sweet but not remotely moving. Nothing here sounds bad, but it’s painfully anonymous.
[3]

Dave Moore: I keep forgetting that Muni Long was once Priscilla Renea, one of my favorite under-the-radar singer-songwriters from the late ’00s (Jukebox is a stone cold classic), in part because I don’t usually hear her ear for a killer hook in her more recent R&B material. But this song, which sounded unremarkable when I heard it in its original flavor, turns out to be fantastic remixed into amapiano and Atlanta bass, so clearly it has good bones.
[6]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: By the time we get to the final chorus, “Made for Me” crosses over from dutiful but indistinct Babyface-core to something greater – an act of pastiche so complete and artfully struck that it acquires a majesty of its own in the act of copying a lost golden age. 
[7]