If not you, then whom?
[Video][Website]
[4.91]
Sophia Clara: The great thing about Selena is that her voice never sounds practiced or polished, no matter how shiny the production is over top of it. Just this perpetually needy thread at the core of any music she puts out, always sounds like she’s about to cry. From that voice, “who’s gonna walk you through the dark side of the morning” sounds almost as if it might be something, might mean something. From that voice, “I had a dream we were back at seventeen” almost manages a genuine melancholy, a real deep gray sadness. Doesn’t matter how insipid the line about polaroids ultimately ends up being; there’s the way Selena half-stumbles, how her voice swallows up the words. It’s just sad that that voice isn’t in a better song.
[6]
David Sheffieck: Thematically this works as a neat counterbalance to the scummy, idyllic relationships depicted by The Inescapable Chainsmokers, tossing off an insouciant dismissal and rejection as the vocal building block of its climax. And Gomez does an impressive job imbuing her part with an undercurrent of desperation in the places where she isn’t chopped into syllables. But the pieces never add up, as Kygo keeps the song in a state of flux too long for any single thing to really land, or to develop enough to resonate. In three-plus minutes it manages to sound like it’s getting older, while its main influence hasn’t yet.
[6]
Alfred Soto: This mishmash of fourthhand Dylanisms and electronic pop signposts boasts a radiant keyboard part and a vocalist making sense of what she’s singing. If the morning has a dark side, I’d like to see it.
[4]
Iain Mew: The European dance hit this most reminds me of is Lost Frequencies’ “Are You With Me” — “It Ain’t Me” sounds like it, too, might have been sampled from half a country record. It stands out from current trends as a result, but it leans on just enough narrative for its lack of any depth to stand out, an emphasis magnified by Selena Gomez reading it for emotion more than power.
[4]
Mark Sinker: I’m a sucker for anything glitchy, to be honest, even badly applied stunt-glitch — and I suppose you could argue the effects are hinting that Selena’s permutations on “yay I changed that stupid lock” are secretly a bit protest-too-much. But it doesn’t really work. Pretty tune, but that wouldn’t be enough on its own either.
[4]
Adaora Ede: Sometimes I wish Selena Gomez would just Ed Sheeran her way into edgy contemp RnB ft. trend rapper because her past attempts at honing her place in the sphere of mass pop EDM have felt woefully inefficacious. “It Ain’t Me” feels like what would happen if Selena got a little too settled into her Tropical Home. But luckily, someone’s bought an acoustic and some Grouplove esque chanting to this housewarming party! For what weaves in and out of choppy contrived techno, Selgo/Kylena create the slightest l’espirit escalier in the powerful narrative and pop rock.
[6]
Will Adams: I like that “whiskey neat” made it into the chopped vocal hook; apart from that, “It Ain’t Me” is drab. Kygo’s production remains unchanged (i.e. he continues to sound like slowed-down Avicii) while Gomez’s vocal limitations are on full display as the choir crowds her out the more she sings.
[4]
Katherine St Asaph: Much as music writers strain for poetry as they produce Kygo blurbs, jobbing pop songwriters usually relish the chance to show craft. “It Ain’t Me” writer Ali Tamposi is better known for platitudinous stuff like “What Doesn’t Kill You (Stronger)” and deep Beyonce cut “Save the Hero,” but “It Ain’t Me” is the kind of portfolio piece that’s its own template: conspicuously concrete details in the verses, concise and decisive chorus, some indie-rock band dropped in for specificity, maybe even a Bob Dylan flip (not even “legit” singer-songwriters can resist). The standoffishness of Dylan’s original might work for someone like Rihanna, or maybe Kehlani if she didn’t write her own material. But this is a Selena Gomez hook on a tropical house track, so they’ve got to simplify: lightly chiding a douchebag who probably doesn’t give a shit who walks him through the dark side of the morning as long as he can bang. Oh well. At least “Bowery” and “whiskey neat” sound more interesting when snippetized than your standard vocalise.
[5]
Ramzi Awn: Selena embraces her World Cup stamina on this crowdsourced single built for a Samsung feature. The blips and bleeps come out of nowhere, and ultimately, “It Ain’t Me” makes poor use of a rich voice.
[2]
Scott Mildenhall: Of all the people and places to bolster the mythology of The Libertines, “a Kygo song” and Selena Gomez are not the most obvious. Perhaps if this goes well, her next single will espouse the delights of Skins. Unfortunately, as much as this tries to be affecting, such specifics aren’t as Proustian as they maybe want to be — the Bowery probably chimes with even less people than Pete Doherty. It’s not that you necessarily need knowledge of them to access “It Ain’t Me”‘s emotion, but it doesn’t offer many other opportunities.
[5]
Hannah Jocelyn: One of the good things about the massive success of “Closer” is that there seems to be a bigger effort to work some traditional songwriting tropes into EDM songs, rather than the words just serving as filler until the beat drops. This is one of the more successful examples – even as it doesn’t necessarily sound like “Closer”, “It Ain’t Me” does have some of the same lyrical specificity, and even improves on it in many regards – not much about the lyrics feel forced at all, even the references to the Bowery and, if I’m hearing this right, the Libertines. Even the chipmunk voice section has more pathos than usual – it pops right out of the mix, and the way the lyrics are just barely intelligible (“dup-dup-deg-bOWrry, dup-dup-deg-wrSkiNEEt”) gives the vivid image of Selena’s relationship flashing by her as she’s finally letting go. This all pays off in a wonderful moment toward the end where real Selena begins to harmonize with chipmunk Selena during an extended drop section. I still wish I saw what everyone else saw in “Closer” while that was at its peak, but a song like “It Ain’t Me” gives me a sense of that feeling.
[8]