The Singles Jukebox

The first time we’ve covered Willow solo since “20th Century Girl” in 2011!

[Video]
[6.82]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: A phenomenal parlor trick of a song. It begins enjoyably obnoxious from the jump and spends its entire runtime transforming its needling bassline and insistent drums into something even-keeled. The way everything interlocks at the end is the direct result of Willow’s vocals — she was always the ringleader. There’s even a moment that has the unfurling beauty of Steve Reich’s minimalism. It’s apt; there’s so much joy in hearing the real-time transformations here.
[6]

Nortey Dowuona: Asher Bank, the drummer on this song, has the most difficult job: he has to recede for the vocals to take center stage, emerge in order to provide sharp transitions, settle into a smooth groove for the pre-chorus, then carefully carry the outro. More difficult yet, he leans heavily on the kick/snare/kick/kick/kick/snare pattern, largely keeping the hi-hats on a straight, flat drone with no wild tom runs or heavy drum fills to provide flavor. He stays in the pocket for drum engineer Zach Brown to keep him at a low level for Chris Greatti — handler of piano/bass/acoustic guitar too!!? — to record. Then Mitch McCarthy quiets the hi-hats and buries them in the mix, letting the kick and snare take starring roles next to the bass as the electric guitar and Willow’s vocals drift high over them, rounded off and cocooned with reverb. Willow’s voice is a helpless, frightened cry until she settles into her deeper, lower register as the drums pause, rush back toward the front of the mix, then slowly thump into the last bars of the outro, only the kicks heard. All in all, fine job by Bank. Willow sounds great too.
[8]

Alfred Soto: Listening to “run!” blind I’d have assumed HAIM or somebody were responsible for the freakout-in-real-time vocal. The wonder is drummer Asher Bank, whose unpredictable patterns recall similar work on Fetch the Bolt Cutters. The star is Willow, whose performance complements the rhythm.
[8]

Jonathan Bradley: Willow’s anxious shrieks and paranoid gasps demand stronger accompaniment than one and a half post-punk basslines and an admittedly satisfying clattery drum kit.
[5]

Dave Moore: In the past few years Willow has quietly become the most incredible pop artist that you are begging to hear in a language you don’t speak. But, much to my own surprise, I couldn’t care less about the dippy poetry and therapyspeak — the right syllables always seem stick to the right melodies and assemble themselves into the right songs. She’s a genius. 
[7]

Katherine St. Asaph: Willow’s A-list family has, maybe paradoxically, caused their musical career to fall into relative obscurity compared to pop‘s A-list; casual listeners and jaded industry types have seemingly written her music off as nepo stuff that’s safe to ignore. Which is a shame, because they’re making more ambitious music, more deserving of being called “artpop,” than many of the up-and-coming artists marketed in their stead. “Run!” is striking and angsty in a way that shares more in common with ’90s singer-songwriters than ’20s nu-pop-punkers. There are places in Willow’s vocal where I would believe that someone spliced in a Tori Amos sample instead — the inflections can be uncannily similar. (Well, OK, half the time who I actually hear is Charlotte Martin; close enough.) Docked a point for the outro, which is the sort of indulgent meandering that the doubters probably expected.
[7]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: As with many of the great stars of alternative rock through the decades, it’s hard to separate the craft from the shtick here. This annoys me in the nervy first half and still doesn’t quite land itself in the repeated phrases of the spacier second half, but I can’t help but be charmed by the song taken as a whole. To take big swings and fail interestingly is always more valorous than to just muddle through.
[6]

Taylor Alatorre: Saves the Day had In Reverie, the Get Up Kids had On a Wire, Panic! had Pretty. Odd., and Willow has empathogen. Once you have chosen the path of the Emo Girl, there’s no going back; record your self-consciously mature and classicist follow-up album, or perish. This is of course an oversimplification, since not even the sellout-iest of emo bands has a career path remotely comparable to Willow’s. “I can’t get out” is an appropriate grievance for someone with her profile, whether it’s stemming from generalized anxiety disorder or the fact that “Whip My Hair” remains her highest-charting hit. Even while Willow is re-enacting a nervous breakdown, she’s still the diligent aesthete, arranging her yelps and squawks in a painterly manner between the gaps in the skittering percussion. Then she suddenly realizes that the song’s halfway over and she hasn’t said the title yet, prompting a vision of escape that sounds like an extended cut of a sensitive Blink-182 bridge. It’s pedestrian, it’s predictable after 5 seconds, and it’s still evocative enough to make me want to re-evaluate a certain therapeutic mantra. “‘Wherever you go, there you are’?” Willow seems to ask. “Actually, dude, I was there, which sucked, and now I am here, which doesn’t suck. Take that, mindfulness.”
[7]

Ian Mathers: I was one of the few positive outliers when we reviewed “Meet Me At Our Spot,” and a lot of that was specifically Willow’s vocals, so I’m nonplussed that for the first two-thirds here they don’t do much for me at all. Might be the production, because during the last minute’s worth of “runrunrunrunrun” bits the song does sound better to me. But instead of that section feeling like catharsis or fixation or something equally powerful, it just feels like they ran out of ideas. Better luck next time!
[5]

Harlan Talib Ockey: One of my favorite under-discussed trends in music was the blues rock boom of the early 2010s. Alabama Shakes, Gary Clark Jr., Rival Sons, Kaleo, Hanni El Khatib, Blues Pills, Curtis Harding and Sinkane occasionally, Cage the Elephant and Royal Blood arguably. “Run!” is a near-perfect throwback to this era. Even the guitar tone sounds like it’s from The Black Keys’ Turn Blue, and Willow’s vocal delivery owes a debt to Brittany Howard and St. Vincent (who appears on this album). I’m biased toward giving “Run!” a good score simply because that was most of what I listened to as a teenager, but here’s the deciding factor: when Willow starts to drift away from the formula, she expertly dissolves the outro into dreamy exhilaration. 
[8]

Wayne Weizhen Zhang: Major theater kid vibes (non-pejorative). 
[8]