The first hugfuck anthem of the summer!…
[Video][Website]
[6.44]
Daniel Montesinos-Donaghy: Crush is called Crush. Take a guess what “Hug Me” is about: yup, you’re right, it’s about hugging! And yet, it straddles a thin line by not sounding chaste while sidestepping dorkiness. The lyrical conceit and Crush’s moon-eyed performance sell the song as acceptable teen heartthrob material, but the music damn near screams for the intended audience to get thrown out of prom for grinding on each other. For something that exists as an audio version of a blush, those skittering hi-hats, undercurrent of Rustie-fied bass and stargazing bridge help this sound absolutely fucking filthy.
[7]
Megan Harrington: This is a marked improvement over most English language male R&B released this year. I’m not sure Trey Songz knows what that “Na Na” is and his desire is unconvincing. Crush writes “Hug Me,” means “Fuck Me,” and splits the difference delivering the line. Getting from A to C requires a heavy dose of excitement and conviction — both Crush and Gaeko are selling every second and the results are sexier for all their enthusiasm.
[8]
Thomas Inskeep: My god, this kid is great. Crush assimilates most of my favorite characteristics of ’90s and ’00s R&B — there are tracks on his debut album Crush on You (because of course) reminiscent of everything from Robin Thicke (pre-that song) and peak-period Johnny Gill to Brand New Heavies. Its apex, however, is “Hug Me,” which comes off as K-R&B ne plus ultra, like the best single Jagged Edge never recorded. It’s a plush track which allows Crush to show off both his lower register and his incredibly creamy, clean falsetto, along with showcasing a rap from Dynamic Duo’s Gaeko — and its sum total is awesome. This is one of 2014’s best R&B singles.
[9]
Madeleine Lee: I’ve listened to this song a lot, and I’m still of two minds about it. Sometimes I hear “hug,” other times I hear something else. Sometimes I wish Crush would turn on his falsetto sooner, and other times I like the buildup. Sometimes the synth horns sound too blurry, and the dust storms of percussion too cluttery; other times I get caught up in their victorious swell through the song and past the vocals into the outro. Most of the time I wish Gaeko would stick to singing features instead, or at least chill out a little. Sometimes this is a [6], and other times this is a [9]. Today, it’s a
[9]
Will Adams: I keep hearing “huck me” and thinking I’m crazy for mentally substituting a request far dirtier than the cutesy title. But then, the smooth plastic of the backing music suggests that such an equivocation is exactly something this guy would do.
[4]
Alfred Soto: With a timbre like J.C. Chasez’s, Gaeko has some persuading to do. Fortunately he’s studied The-Dream, as the chants over wave after wave of syncopated electronic percussion attest.
[5]
Jer Fairall: The vocalist can’t seem to decide whether he’s pleading the title or issuing it as a command. One is pathetic, the other is creepy. The slushy boy-band R&B, canned horns and aggressive dubstep-y synths that accompany him offer no definitive push in either direction.
[3]
Brad Shoup: This is a better summer song than the Hudson/Timbaland track, I think, at least if you’re in hotter climes: Crush sings the title like the breath’s getting squeezed out of him. The track slices and pumps; the synths beat down but they’re not oppressive. Gaeko gets the angrier synths; he’s got a lot to prove re: performative devotion, and he ends up sounding like he’s auditioning for an “Ayo Technology” remix.
[7]
Scott Mildenhall: A nice lyrical flow and a very nice, contained production that matches the hankering delivery of the title, though repetition of that title alone doesn’t constitute a chorus. It’s not a song about release, one of feelings rather than actions, and that mood is well set, but it needn’t be at the expense of a more prominent hook.
[6]