Like Camembert left in the July sun…
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[5.44]
Daniel Montesinos-Donaghy: I have to be honest: I could not remember a single thing from this song and instead played the cheeky 18 Months interlude “School” about five times to wipe it from my memory that little more. Um, three points for “School,” I guess.
[3]
Anthony Easton: Maybe because of its release date (but also because of its those wide expanses of abstracted sound), this sounds anticipating rather than anything more rueful, even with lyrics about leaves being brown. There is so much going on here that his vocals, no matter how open, do not compete with the undulating production or that cliffhanger ending. I wonder if I would like this better in July?
[6]
Alfred Soto: As the keyboard landslide starts and the vocals get unctuous, the hapless listener realizes no lifeline exists, no calls for help will be answered.
[3]
Patrick St. Michel: Calving Harris does not have the best voice, and he has one of the worst voices imaginable for something designed to be blasted at electronic music festivals during the warmer months. Yet this somehow all works out for him wonderfully. His limited singing ability forces everything to be scaled back a bit – the chorus, which should probably explode, seems to hold a little bit back (or maybe other EDM acts have just gotten louder). Better are the little sonic details that buff out the track, like the violins opening this song up or what sounds sorta like a harp, but even more sun dappled.
[6]
Scott Mildenhall: “Under Control” felt like the peak of Calvin Harris’ imperial phase. A fairly unremarkable track, sneaking its way to the top spot after the end of an album campaign of unprecedented success. He doesn’t need pineapples or jam these days, but “Summer” does hark back to a time when he did. For a start he sings on it, you can sing “I’m Not Alone” over the top, and the pianos, guitar and backing vocals sound more like something from Ready For The Weekend than 18 Months. It’s chirpier and more colourful than he’s recently been, but a little too featureless to really stand out; certainly no “Domino Dancing”.
[6]
Ramzi Awn: I’m not sure what Calvin Harris’s voice is supposed to sound like. Is it sexy? Is it Euro? Is it Creed? Really not sure. Typical synths. I could get behind it more if Do were on it. But she’s not.
[5]
Rebecca A. Gowns: Now THAT’S what I call music! What differentiates this jam from all the other pop pap? It keeps it moving. It doesn’t repeat — it builds. Calvin knows how long each section should last, and how it should lead into the next. The usual four-on-the-floor beat is made new with sparkly and bright sounds; some long, and some just sprinkled like glitter, so you catch a ding here, a phaser swirl there. It doesn’t trudge, demean, or overstate. It just dances, and invites you to do the same.
[10]
Megan Harrington: Calvin Harris’s camembert cheese (auto-tuned vocals, and lines like “When I met you in the summer/To my heartbeat sound”) is a [10], a quality only acceptable when the days are endless and soaked in fruity rum drinks. That this isn’t a Rihanna song is a [0]; she is Harris’s muse and the only artist capable of redeeming this song’s generic chords and chaste romance (by laying thirst traps).
[5]
Brad Shoup: If this were any more of a naked cash grab he’d be asking me if I want to head to the Champagne Room. But I was hooked during the second verse: all those fake harps and yelps of “SUMMAH”: a parking-lot yob dipped in daydreams.
[5]