PEACE BED: THE BED THAT SLEEPS!
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[4.11]
Patrick St. Michel: Slightly more tolerable than the titular inspiration, because these guys don’t think sitting in bed will change the world but rather just choose to stay in the sheets because they want to smoke and drink, justifying it with some Facebook-ready philosophy Jhené Aiko can’t even get across clearly. Maybe that makes it worse.
[1]
Daniel Montesinos-Donaghy: “We make love / then we fuck.” Soon enough, Aiko forgets to differentiate and focuses on the former, floating on her duvet day warmth and the drug mist. She leaves the song somewhere in the covers. Donald Glover stumbles in with a couple of McGriddles and each finger on his hands crossed just in case.
[6]
Katherine St Asaph: “Buried in the drugs, but the feels keep coming” is everything wrong with Internet whatever&B in 2013, embodied by Donald Glover. Aiko’s eager with the former, but she sings “make love” and “fuck” and “give me my space” like they’re all the same, while the track putters like a dead libido. The title is less awkward, or at least awkward in a different way, when you learn it comes from Yoko and John — but the point there was partly that they were Yoko and John, not Donald Glover and Jhené Aiko playing dead-end college grads awkwardly pawing in a Bushwick loft. I’ve lived this — showing up with plans of “whatever,” scrounging crap mixers, watching the guy fiddle with his vaping gadgetry like a kid with an office typewriter, getting higher off inertia than anything happening. It’s not relaxing or romantic — it’s listless. What’s so fun about peace, love and underwhelming?
[4]
Brad Shoup: Everybody’s talking about jism, jism, jism. I dunno why Aiko has to clarify what she’s trying to say: even though everything is presented like riddles, it’s all so so literal. The hookless track hangs like a grey sky, with drum clicks and a processional organ part daubing the edges. It’s like a more upfront “Sweater Weather”.
[4]
Iain Mew: The most interesting aspect of this is the relation between the two partners, who are close enough to seem like they fit in the same song, but still have a disconnect. Like a gender-switched “Balcony”, Gambino talks about feels and plots their life together, while Aiko starts off wanting him to fuck and give her space. Where sex brought Cassie and Jeezy together, though, in “Bed Peace” the tension doesn’t go anywhere. Aiko’s initial desires fall by the wayside, and the song is too fuzzy to fill in the switch to her placing him at the centre. Maybe resolving their relationship is one more responsibility she’s smoking away, but the text doesn’t go there. If it sounded less like the two of them were having a nap it might help.
[5]
Crystal Leww: I am a big fan of Jhené Aiko and her light voice (sailing soul(s) was one of my favorite mixtapes of 2011), but this song is so light that it floats by without leaving much of an impression. It’s a shame because there are interesting moments when you give it a third or fourth listen, like when she progresses through “we make love and then we fuck and then you give me my space” or the chopped and screwed “let’s get high and just fuck”. It’s a reminder that she was always a little fucked up even with her light voice, but whatever this beat is doesn’t do her justice. Childish Gambino is pointless; someone get him out of here.
[5]
Anthony Easton: The notes that Childish Gambino produced on Tumblr a while back, were perfect: a little eccentric, a little worn down, self-consciously off the cuff, didactic, just cryptic enough, and written on hotel stationery, but the wrong kind of hotel in the wrong kind of city. He could have added just a touch more of the Marriott Long Term Stay to this.
[7]
Alfred Soto: If Aiko’s part is the nadir of wobbly AutoTuned sensitivity, Gambino is the mean of thugs-need-hugs loutishness.
[3]
Will Adams: This is the least sexy sex song I have ever heard.
[2]