And the road doth fork…
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[5.33]
Chuck Eddy: Bobby Brown once advised me that if I find a Tenderoni that is right for me, I should make it official, give her my love. Sadly, this is not her.
[4]
John Seroff: My initial disappointment when this “Tenderoni” did not prove to be a Bobby Brown cover deepened when I recognized it as an uncredited remake of “Wearing My Rolex”. It’s not as if we didn’t have Jukebox sweetheart “Take That” to scratch that itch already. Kele’s main additions to the formula are a vague rough-trade narrative and a inscrutable crooning baritone chorus; both of which work surprisingly well. There are a few good ideas happening here, but not enough of them to recommend this more than half-heartedly.
[6]
Iain Mew: On the last Bloc Party album Kele sung “You used to take your watch off before we made love/You didn’t want to share our time with anyone”. Guess he must have reciprocated, judging by the way they’re now wearing his Rolex, eh? Bad gags aside, the familiarity of the sounds wouldn’t be so bad if he did more with them, but the confidence in any other hooks isn’t there and the song virtually vanishes into itself when it reaches the chorus.
[5]
Ian Mathers: Give me a remix of this that keeps chaotic energy of that chorus all the way through, and I’ll love it. This version… the verses drag too much. I want more yelling, more digital falsetto, more giant sized synths.
[5]
Edward Okulicz: Hey, it’s a slowed down version of “Take Off” by Jack Rokka, only with Betty Boo replaced by he out of Bloc Party who could barely hold a note before and hasn’t improved at all since then. And “Take Off” itself was just a knock-off of “Yeah Yeah” by Bodyrox to begin with!
[3]
Kat Stevens: I’m pleasantly surprised! Kele’s unintelligible vocal on the chorus conjures up memories of my favourite sort of 1995 euro-house banger; the exoskeletal ‘zzjranng’ synth might be left over from 2006, but 2006 was bloody awesome (I spent the whole time at the Combination Bodyrox and Booka Shade). All Kele needs is to cheer up a bit on the verses and then he might just get his very own Rolex to wear.
[7]
Martin Skidmore: I suppose the amateurish dancier beats are more appealing than Bloc Party, but there’s still an indie rock sensibility in how they are used, as if synths are merely a modish substitute for electric guitars. The main problem, though, is his rotten singing, flat and lifeless as ever, and the lack of a tune or hook.
[2]
Alfred Soto: Bloc Party’s Silent Alarm was one of those impressive debut albums by an English act that left many wondering what the fuss was about months later. Subsequent albums showed they had songs without a sound. Kele’s solo outing has a sound in search of a song — think new Dizzee Rascal with sleazier kicks. Now that Kele’s officially out I understand what all the winks and hints of old meant. What I can’t figure out is why his singing is the aural equivalent of winking and hinting.
[6]
Cecily Nowell-Smith: Remember last year, when Bloc Party released a vaguely likeable piano-house retread called “One More Chance”? And we, or at least I, went around saying something along the lines of– yes but isn’t the sparse retro charm of this song entirely ruined by how bad Kele Okereke’s voice suddenly sounds? I think Kele remembers, because in this lead single off his solo album his vocal is hushed, swamped, spangled, always ceding centre stage to those shiny turbo-house synths that sound like Tron bikes. Plus rather than retro he’s gone for the sound of now, or at least the sound of 2008’s “Wearing My Rolex”. Still, I like the way those big crunchy metallic robo-chords fall slightly too fast — when his voice pings into garbled falsetto and some sudden drums stutter in, for a few seconds there’s that sickening glee of propulsion you get in a good racing game.
[7]
Jonathan Bogart: I don’t think I’ve heard a better sound than that throb-to-flutter sequencer line in ages. I don’t even care about the words; on first run through they’re not totally embarrassing, which is good enough for me. I’d dance anywhere this got played.
[8]
Anthony Easton: I find the density of the competing signals here, and the stretching/breaking apart, the construction and deconstruction of musical possiblities fascinating.
[7]
Katherine St Asaph: The hints of menace at the beginning give way too quickly to cookie-cutter electro. Neither the loopy synth line at the end nor the enmuscled boxer distinguish it from the surrounding puddle of dance-R&B goo. It’s a shame; I’d love to hear the other directions the first 30 seconds could have gone.
[4]