Gold passion…
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[6.89]
Hazel Robinson: I really like this, it’s sad and soft and sunlit in exactly the moderately-thumping synth-heavy emo-in-disguise way I fucking love. Which is convenient, since feeling like a sucker for a song is exactly what it’s about — closed-eyes euphoria even as you deconstruct that this isn’t the greatest piece of music ever but right now it’s filling up your heart like drug.
[8]
Edward Okulicz: The squall of that backing brings to mind a discharge of current. The bass brings to mind New Order. Alizée romps playfully over the top of both; she is not commanding, but she is slyly smooth. Indeed, this is her best single since her second album, before she split with Farmer/Bouttonat — only a minor delicacy, but a delicacy regardless.
[7]
Will Adams: For almost fifteen years, Alizée has made the most of her thin voice, producing disposable (and deceptively bubblegum) pop. “Alcaline” is right up that alley: tissue-paper thin with smeared backing vocals and a da-dum hook. But it lacks the kick of her previous hits, skating by on its just-okay chorus, which almost makes up for the dull music-as-life lyrics.
[6]
Alfred Soto: In the tradition of Eighth Wonder’s “I’m Not Scared” — wispy singers using French in kittenish pursuits, with synbeats as catnip. Works every time.
[6]
Abby Waysdorf: Delightfully frothy Eurodisco, something I’d be pleased to find in a compilation randomly purchased in a foreign record store and include in mixes for the next year. It’s the chorus that particularly pleases: bouncy and cutesy without tipping over into cloying. It’s something French pop has always been good at and it’s great to see that it’s still capable of doing so.
[8]
Brad Shoup: Reminds me of the effervescent psychedelia of Zedd’s “Spectrum,” with the mournful zags in Matthew Koma’s vocal melody swapped out for a radioactive one-string guitar low. In her higher, more Auto-Tuned moments, she sounds like a sterling Japanese pop idol.
[7]
Patrick St. Michel: A so-so electro-pop skip boosted up when the vocals get smothered in sweet, sweet Auto-Tune — should have just dunked the whole song in.
[6]
Mark Sinker: The song is strangely wispy-pretty and fragile for a declaration that music is an “alkaline battery which runs on adrenaline” (pardon my English). Back back back (blonde blonde blonde).
[8]
Katherine St Asaph: Wispy, throbby pop that wavers between chart dancepop from four years ago and, I dunno, Ladytron. I like the latter better.
[6]