“Goddamnit, Adam, didn’t the rules say no Instagram at Madame Tussaud’s?”
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[2.60]
Iain Mew: Nice try, but as charming as Carly Rae Jepsen is, she is not enough to make me like your basic, cloying crap. Especially when she’s mostly doing the “woah oh oh oh oh”s from “California Gurls”.
[2]
Patrick St. Michel: Did Carly Rae Jepsen use up all her wishes for “Call Me Maybe,” or is the footie-pajama stink of Owl City so strong as to blot her out? Once Owl City sells having Prince songs stuck in his head and a night out as something less exciting than playing Risk on a Friday, the answer becomes clear.
[1]
Katherine St Asaph: The industry powers have noticed Carly Rae Jepsen just like us, but tragically, inevitably, they’ve seen not her airy, crushed-out charm but merely an up-and-coming resource not yet tapped for collaborations, a sugarcube to be dissolved in its weak Luke-alike tea and Adam Young’s 3OH!3 infusion. She’s working with LMFAO next, you know.
[3]
Alfred Soto: Presumably recorded before “Call Me Maybe” exploded, this still bears the signs of corporate malfeasance: Auto-Tune, of course, perfunctory percussive euphoria, guitars mixed to sound like dental drills, a duet partner who admits to waking up with a Prince song in his head but sounds like a Swede doing Death Cab for Cutie at karaoke.
[1]
Jer Fairall: “What’s up with this Prince song inside my head?” Consider the Second Annual “Moves Like Jagger” Award For Most Laughably Unworthy Namedrop claimed.
[2]
Will Adams: When it comes down to it, I just hate his voice. I can put up with his cheesecake lyrics –- here, they’re “Last Friday Night” strained through a Kidz Bop sieve — and tinker toy productions – here, it’s Diet Dr. Luke with a double shot of high fructose corn syrup -– but when they’re paired with his cloying over-enunciation and nightmarish portamento, it’s the store-bought frosting on a cake made out of Pixy Stix. Carly does her best but sounds terminally disengaged. How could you not when you’re being asked to endorse something that prides itself on not even trying?
[2]
Anthony Easton: This is the most sexless invocation of casual sex I have ever heard.
[2]
Colin Small: I had no hopes of Owl City making a good song, but if “Call Me Maybe” shows us anything, it’s that Jepsen at least has some potential. None of that — no complexity of sentiment, charm, or vocal nuance — is exhibited here.
[3]
Brad Shoup: I admit, after about 53,000 spins of “Call Me Maybe,” I’m relieved to hear our heroine achieve consummation. As discofied pop goes, this is the Michelle Branchiest, and it earns a point for the sturdy bass line. Your friendly local Mountie has a few questions about that children’s choir, though.
[4]
Jonathan Bogart: I can’t give anything that includes the whoop that leads off the chorus less than a [6]. Too bad nothing else in the song lives up to it.
[6]