The Singles Jukebox

The greatest song decrying the state of radio since “I’d Rather Jack.”

[Video][Website]
[5.89]

Scott Mildenhall: It’s EDMolition Night, and The-Dream is here to Save R&B – the music that they constantly play says nothing to him about his life, and he’s going to resolve the situation by issuing nothing less than a fairly pleasant slow jam. He sounds assured, the production sauntering, almost triumphant, but is it really a victory? Well Laidback Luke is probably still feeling pretty laidback at the moment, put it that way.
[7]

Anthony Easton: This seems to be fronting about the nature of dance music versus ballads; essentially it is a genre argument that only uses the woman as subject to further the point. Yet again, the woman is acted on and not acting. 
[2]

Patrick St. Michel: In which The-Dream finally accepts the fact he will never be the gigantic mainstream presence he deserves to be, and seeks therapy by lashing out at dance pop. Turns out being pissed at the state of Top 40 results in a great track – I’m not sure whether the woman he’s pursuing who boasts an “ass you can see from a satellite” is also the symbolic lady here representing R&B, but his metaphors are clever and making this about being loyal to the genre is nice. This loses one point because that Fabolous verse is a nightmare, edit him and his Hundred-Acre-Woods come ons out of this.
[7]

Crystal Leww: The-Dream knows that he’s never going to be as big as the Usher or even Trey Songz that he deserves to be a million times over. It means that he doesn’t feel the pressure to make something that doesn’t sound 100% like him. While I’m all for artists evolving and changing to fit the times (Usher’s “Climax” is one of my favorite songs of last year), even if I really like this current wave of EDM pop (everything Ne-Yo has done recently), “Slow It Down” sounds just as fresh as “Shawty Is Da Shit!” did the first time I heard that. It makes sense; the song contains a lot of the same elements from the latter. Everything from the plinky piano to the Fabolous guest verse to The-Dream harmonizing with himself just sounds sexy and fun to me. The chip on the shoulder is new, but he deserves it. Never stop being you, Terius.
[8]

Andy Hutchins: No, Terius, you did not owe Fabolous a favor this badly. In fact, Fab probably owes you multiple favors. Do you even know how favors work? (Amen on the motherfucking dance songs, though.)
[7]

Rebecca A. Gowns: Beautiful song in anticipation of summer jams. Demands to be put on a mix CD, sharpied with flowers and thrown carelessly on the floor, to be retrieved again a year later from underneath the mat; to be dusted off and popped back in the CD player; demands an exclamation that one remembers this song, and the volume to be turned up a notch louder than it needs to be — and when the windows roll down and the beach breeze blusters in, it will be nudged even louder. Calls out for snippets of lyrics to be shouted by all the members of the car (“all of a sudden I’m Winnie the Pooh and I’m all up in your honey”), for the “awoop”s to be met with hand waves and swaying in unison. It will be overplayed and the mix CD will meet its eventual demise after it gets too many scratches; it may even be stepped on and cracked in half. Yet much like the Slurpee run in 100 degree heat: it is welcome, it is fun, and it is temporary, not meant to be held onto. Rather, it leaves a small indent, one of millions, on your being. When you die you will remember that you were a spirit that lived and felt joy — and this song will not be a discernible part of your memory, but the traces of it will remain, as an inextricable drop in your cup of lived pleasures, spilling out into the aether.
[8]

Alfred Soto: They’ve sand in the joints: the rhythms don’t pingpong, DOA “star” cameo, three-word title chorus as concept – a deadly concept, cuz slowing it down is not what Terius Nash needs.
[3]

Edward Okulicz: A decent argument for non-dance music you can move to, but in and of itself, it’s a pretty poor exponent of the art. The-Dream wastes all his great tricks on the verses, the “awoop”s, the honeyed multitracking and the quotables, leaving him with nothing in the tank for the chorus and a dead-air and embarrassing Fabolous guest bit that could slow time itself to a crawl.
[4]

Brad Shoup: I presume Fabo is here for thematic continuity. There’s a kind of boldness in not just invoking MJ, but impersonating him… it’s the sort of thing Patrick Stump flirts with on the regular, but Dream’s backgrounded chug and radio-baiting match FOB’s A game. His stepmelodic sense is great as ever, and I feel his central complaint. That chorus isn’t going anywhere.
[7]