When all else fails, rip off… 1D?…
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[3.70]
Katherine St Asaph: All your favorite bland-bland-bland-blands.
[1]
Luisa Lopez: Did anyone else forget that Taio Cruz existed? This little tune, wannabe acoustic, presses against its clingfilm limits just enough to register as a difference and it still sounds exactly like everything else he’s ever done. To his credit, it’s a good idea — a kiss-off whose venom is masked by its sweetness — even if everything about the production makes it nonsensical. It could almost be good — the beginning is such a perfect imitation of the guitar lullaby it could have been, that the punchline comes as a pleasant shock, and that’s a nice play on our expectations. It’s a Taio Cruz song, so we expect it to be “don’t you dare [break my heart]”, “don’t you dare [fall in love]”, “don’t you dare [any number of nice things]” anything but don’t you dare come crawling back. In the right hands, probably a great twisted little song; here, blown into stupid pieces by that awful dance break. What a waste!
[4]
Alfred Soto: As unwieldy as the tracks on Usher’s Looking 4 Myself that added bullshit EDM whirs and grinds out of market anxiety. Cruz has a worse problem: with that voice, who’d believe his threats?
[3]
Micha Cavaseno: How depressing is it that even Taio Cruz knows how to do the stupid “Americana” shtick? Yes, he’s diving back into the guido techno fare of every big commercial banger, but no, here comes this stupid hoedown grab-your-partner shit. Taio Cruz is like the re-invasion of England, insidiously pointing out how obsessed pop in the USA has become with our own hokey hickness. Just put in some vaguely Mumfordy bits, and voila, even the most stock and faceless of dance pop has a chance at validity!
[2]
Scott Mildenhall: Incredibly, one of Taio Cruz’s first successes was co-writing Will Young’s four-minute theatre “Your Game”. That was no sign of what was to come, an onslaught of hit-and-miss electro R&B that made him an unrecognised trailblazer. As time went on though, the misses took precedence, and people lost interest. Two years on, any sense of innovation has been boiled all the way down to an apathetic “no”. There are barely motions to go through.
[4]
Anthony Easton: This took me a few go-arounds, and I’m still not entirely convinced, but Cruz has a fantastic voice and I like how direct he is with his messaging here. What has left me unconvinced is the instrumental breaks, since they seem to scramble the flow found in the rest of the song.
[6]
Will Adams: Taio Cruz is all types of confused. He sings “don’t you dare come crawling back” like it’s a heartfelt line, like he’s doing “Story Of My Life” karaoke; enlists Dr. Luke of all people to construct a Kidz Bop-level approximation of Avicii country-house; and still thinks that one signature habit (the stuttered woah-oh-oh’s) will make up for his gaping lack of persona.
[2]
David Sheffieck: The production’s derivative, sure, but what really sinks “Don’t You Dare” is Cruz’s vocal. This is an angry lyric, a bitter one, and it’d work delivered with a snarl or as the sort of triumphal chant that aligned directly with the production. It needs passion, but Cruz sings every line like he’s midway through a yawn.
[2]
Megan Harrington: “Don’t You Dare” is best enjoyed at a practical distance. It’s a song you put on and walk away from to wash your face or put away laundry. When you come back, synthesizers are skipping around like damp Pop Rocks and suddenly your world is a little more fun.
[6]
Brad Shoup: Each verse serves as a kind of mini-sermon, the last line a glum conclusion. That’s mostly due to the airtight folk construction, circling around — then lighting on — a central conclusion. The filigrees in the synth hook mock a little; they’re cheerfully sour. And Cruz, who never could blow the doors off, gets to bask in a small man’s reproach.
[7]