But are we over him?! With a hat like that, the answer might surprise you…
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[2.00]
Anthony Easton: Ellen White’s brilliant essay on misogyny and rock and roll has been quoted on the Jukebox before (i.e. “Mick Jagger is less of a misogynist than James Taylor because James Taylor doesn’t try to hide his bullshit”), but it should be included in the pack of every nascent singer songwriter — the hateful DeGraw assumes a soft voice and a quiet smile spells pussy; at least there is an honesty to songs that express explicitly how much they love it, without the gooey middle.
[0]
Hazel Robinson: Fucking hell, even Gavin’s trying to go rave. Well, I say that and genuinely believed it for the first 46 seconds of this but inevitably his bold stab reverts nervously back into the sort of non-power, non-pop, non-chorus that he’s famous for. Is One Tree Hill still going? I imagine it’s puttered out into the “mature adult contemporary” category, too. Disappointing.
[4]
Jonathan Bogart: I know that basically every music video is an excuse to let schlubby musicians pretend that extremely hot models are totally into them, but even by those low standards, DeGraw’s self-pitying Nice Guy routine is stomach-churning.
[0]
Katherine St Asaph: Well, sure, if you ensconce yourself in a cell of piano chordlets and Ryan Tedder drums and stare at her Facebook photos while asking waiters to put out an extra plate and silver, you’d be pained too. You might even sound more pained than this.
[2]
Jer Fairall: What do you say about an artist who is only describable in terms of his deficiencies in relation to fellow pushers of whiny douche-pop? That Gavin DeGraw is most notable for sounding like Adam Levine without the pretensions towards funkiness, like John Mayer without any prodigious talent to squander, like Daniel Powter without something as noxiously insistent as “Bad Day” to leave his mark with, or like Ryan Tedder without the prolific output? In the case of “Not Over You,” I suppose you thank him and Tedder for choosing to merge their talents this time out, thus potentially sparing the public one more awful song of this seemingly inexhaustible ilk. So, uh, thanks guys.
[2]
Alfred Soto: The slightly discordant piano over the chorus provides an anarchy that he squelches with his grated-cheese vocal as definitively as the Japanese did Manchuria. Recommended to fans of Adam Levine yelping dickwad drivel over kick drum.
[2]
Zach Lyon: I have to give him some pity points from all the good will I have stocked up because of “Chariot” and “I Don’t Wanna Be,” two hooky, pleasant pop tracks that showcased his ability to make music that seemed ready-made for Glee in the best way (note: I have never watched Glee). Innocent high school drama geek stuff, like Josh Groban without the voice. But this is a Ryan Tedder deal, which means it’ll either be an undeserved hit or it’ll be sent to the abandoned farm of irrelevance that puppies like Gavin go to when their careers die.
[2]
Brad Shoup: Muffled drums, a muddy four-on-the-floor throb, a piano riff electronically treated to a staggeringly hamfisted degree: DeGraw’s written a Coldplay song via the telephone game. He’s proven himself able to summon arresting, non-standard pop lyrical ideas (chariots, prison guards), but all he comes up with here is boomerangs. There’s nearly no difference between verses and chorus, except the latter has more half-dead vocal echoes.
[4]