“Since U Been Gone” will be ten years old in two years. Carry on…
[Website][Video]
[6.50]
Anthony Easton: I’ve pointed this out before, but “Dark Side” sounds neither dark or broken. A song so deeply in need of someone else’s love and affection suggests that she’s hiding something, but there is nothing dark in this text because what she is hiding is way down on a subterranean level; it’s a well played rhetorical trope, but she doesn’t do a bad job of it.
[6]
Iain Mew: The appearance of almost the same phrase in the belted chorus makes me think of Jessie J’s “Nobody’s Perfect”. One of the many reasons that I hated “Nobody’s Perfect” was the way that that phrase was wielded as a weapon. Kelly, on the other hand, is using it compassionately to reach out. Amidst a song powered by her naked vulnerability, in the “we’re worth it” it feels like there is an unspoken implication that she is willing to do the same in exchange, to appreciate and help to deal with everything that her partner brings. It’s rather lovely. As is the whole song, really, especially the verses with their music box chimes and her tender restraint, and the killer outro that lays it all bare.
[8]
Katherine St Asaph: The biggest lie anyone will tell you is “you can tell me anything.” It’s not quite a lie — you always can — but you’ll just as likely hear it again, sharpened and thrown back at you. That Kelly Clarkson knows this isn’t as noteworthy as her critics — some of whom liken her to cutters, some to misandrists — believe. She certainly doesn’t appease them by making her dark side more palatable in the telling, building this from a music box, rain-pitter Tedder percussion and the “Since U Been Gone” switch that’s triggered all her choruses since. Half her vocals are processed to sound like a confession through a phone line and half like they’re actually going through a platinum-encrusted, acoustically tooled megaphone. Her words, too, don’t quite endear: part manipulative, in the sense that any request beginning “do you love me?” is; part pat, as if “nobody’s a picture perfect, but we’re worth it” could ever be as convincing as it’s crafted to; part understated, as in “it’s not pretty there” and “please remind me who I really am,” as the last lock between the darkness and him (and you). It’s the sort of verbatim emotional accuracy Fiona Apple’s been praised for lately: Kelly Clarkson’s singing these things these ways despite knowing well how they reflect upon her. That it gets her criticized only proves that she had to ask.
[7]
Brad Shoup: That music box! It’s the sort of heavy-lidded metaphor I associate with Pink. At least she (and/or producer Greg Kurstin) incorporate it into the breakdown beat. Still, the song’s merit tips toward its sentiment (the anastrophe of “picture perfect” aside), and Clarkson’s air campaign in the bridge and closing chorus upends the effect.
[5]
Alfred Soto: The dark side in spite of which Clarkson wants to be loved is her by now exhausted replay of the “Since U Been Gone” trick. This goes one better by including an unhealthy but compelling masochism: “Promise me you will stay,” she moans over and over over Kleenex box drums and smudged guitars.
[4]
Edward Okulicz: “Dark Side” is halfway between Evanescence and Ladyhawke, both thematically and sonically. Clarkson adapted to the sheen of power-pop-rock as if born to rule over it, and she pulls out the same clear, powerful performance that elevated “Behind These Hazel Eyes” to the top of its type to this equally intense number. Of course, the idea that she has a real dark side comes across as faintly ridiculous because, duh, My December (a fine pop album, but a wildly unconvincing “gritty” “real” “rock” album). Still, you don’t need to believe Kelly Clarkson to enjoy her power.
[9]