Prediction: backlash in 2014. For the moment, though…
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[7.46]
Alfred Soto: A few years ago Mena recorded an album of thickbeated dance music in which she honored her Baltimora records. Now she accelerates the tempos and ends up in 1995 at Nicki French’s “Total Eclipse of the Heart” cover. Big ups to the melisma hook and harmonies. The novelty’s gone though.
[7]
Jessica Doyle: If the power of “Luz de Piedra de Luna” lay in the chorus, this track’s secret weapon gets brandished at 1:39, when a bit of processing allows Javiera Mena to drop into a lower register and glide along for a while, throwing her earlier, punchier singing into relief. (Those of you complaining about the vocals getting drowned out in “Luz de Piedra” will not have that problem here.) It’s one big whole: rather than build, it drops you on the road and stays there. Does it have staying power? Let me ride along eight thousand more times and get back to you.
[8]
Andrew Casillas: Javiera Mena’s last album played a huge role in re-aligning the Iberoamerican pop landscape and shifting focus towards more elaborate production and sophisti-pop melodies. So it comes as a bit of a surprise that Mena’s comeback single is all climax and brashness. Not since “Al Siguiente Nivel” has Mena released anything so id-pleasing: the cocksure vocals, the lack of middle-eighth sultriness–hell, the song begins as if the track’s been playing for a couple of minutes already. It would come off as a bit jarring if the whole thing weren’t so damn exhilarating. The last minute and fifteen seconds, in particular, is a marvel: the hyper-synths from “My Love,” Mena’s brazen chanting, that glorious damn rhythm section, together oozing dopamine. Viva la reina.
[10]
Juana Giaimo: Javiera Mena chose the right track to follow up her masterpiece Mena: while it keeps its elaborated synthpop, it also tells us that she is now on a new level. Her puerile tenderness has been replaced for a confident woman who is ready to own the danceflor. And let’s simply admit it: we are all dying to dance with her too.
[10]
Iain Mew: I helped fund this, which only intensifies the feeling of wanting it to be incredible and take up where she left off. It manages the latter better than the former, exploding into life in a whirl of mirrorballs and deep synth pulses. In a song that doesn’t build through repetition much, though, that very fast start is what dilutes its wow-power. The last section of the song, with Mena sounding defiant and singing “no no no no no no” as a new faster synth riff fills up the arrangement, ought to be fantastically intense but, without enough contrast to the emotional level of what’s gone before, it doesn’t get there. Too much of too many good things isn’t a bad problem to have, but not one she’s had before.
[6]
Will Adams: I know everyone here loves her, but her flat voice lets me down every time. “Espada” exacerbates this problem with an ill-suited Autotune bit and melodies that call for power she can’t deliver. When those gated trance synths enter, she really shows her weakness. Musically, “Espada” has less going for it than her past hits, subbing wild percussion for cheesy synths and what seems to be a “Turn the Beat Around” quote. Sorry for party pooping.
[6]
Daniel Montesinos-Donaghy: In before everyone overrates this to the high heavens: the regular Menamix of glitter’n’crunch, budget synth in hand. It’s cool.
[7]
Edward Okulicz: It’s fine, it’s cheeky and retro and it’s kind of fun but it doesn’t stir my soul like “Hasta la Verdad” or force me to move like “Luz de Piedra da Luna” or make me sing rapturously along like “Sufrir.” It’s an average song made likeable by someone whose voice and sonic palette appeal to me enormously. But that’s all it is.
[6]
Patrick St. Michel: I’ve set insanely high expectations for every Javiera Mena song that has the task of following up Mena, so “Espada” was facing some tough odds when it materialized on my Tumblr feed and forced me to stop doing everything else to take a listen. At first I thought it would just be a peppy synth-pop number, a little too ’80s devoted but good, albeit not striking as immediately as anything I’ve heard from her. Then Mena started whispering and doing all sorts of other interesting little things with her voice, and the music started twisting too. Then “Espada” reached a dizzying climax in its final minute – all the thrill of EDM with 99 percent less headace – and by goodness this more than meets my expectations.
[9]
Brad Shoup: There’s a bummed-out grandiosity here, like I’m actually listening to the crushing responsibility of royalty. I guess that’s synthpop done right. Even when running double-dutch on the pre-chorus, Mena retains a kind of gruff remove. When she sings about herself, it sounds like the whole world. (And when she sings about backpacks, it’s playful. Go figure.) The Club already figured this out, but the shift to Timbaland programming is a clever final gambit to put this over. By that point, I was too tired to argue it doesn’t.
[7]
Crystal Leww: The production on this sounds very synthetic, like it was hammered out with a free production program. Sorry, but I just like my pop with a little more bite!
[5]
Mallory O’Donnell: Rooted as breakthrough Mena was in classic disco, freestyle and Pet Shop Boys-style subtle synthpop, it seems only natural that Javi would turn to Hi-NRG and stadium house for her follow up. Her innocence has turned to exuberance, bristling forth in a hook that sinks its claws into you within seconds and refuses to let go. This is no mere show of force–her voice displays a level of maturity and confidence not glimpsed previously. We, the faithful, can all now breath a collective sigh of relief and watch her continued ascent into the heavens.
[9]
Katherine St Asaph: The song that should’ve gone with the title Stars Dance.
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