Come closer to the feeling…

[Video]
[4.89]

Anjy Ou: Every time I sit down and think about what Wizkid has done with his career, my mind is casually blown. He took over the Nigerian airwaves with irresistably dancey tracks, mostly inspired by Yoruba traditional music. Then he switched it up and ushered in a new era of Ghana-Nigeria relations. And then he basically inspired Drake’s year of music and grabbed a Billboard #1 song in the process. So it’s a little disappointing to see him follow trends here and make an Afro-Caribbean flavoured mellow banger. While the production is “sweeting me,” and Wizkid to my relief never says “likkle wine,”  it needed one of his trademark catchy hooks to really pop. Without one it’s just “Controlla 2.0.” Which is fine, but it’s not the Wizkid we know and love.
[6]

Alfred Soto: The influence becomes the influenced; or Wizkid becomes K’naan.
[4]

Thomas Inskeep: Drake borrowed from Wizkid, and now Wizkid’s taking it back. Unfortunately, what’s been taken is fairly dull Auto-Tuned Afropop.
[4]

Micha Cavaseno: Patronage does a lot to a person. One might go out of their way to say fame doesn’t change the music, but the fact is artists perpetually react to their audiences, positively or negatively. Since Wizkid’s repeated courting by the Drakk East India company, there has been a notable shift in his music to a more cross-cultural sound and a noteworthy sort of shift in his own approach. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a bit upset to hear him on “Come Closer” mirroring fellow OVO pet-project Popcaan’s cadences so heavily on the bridge here, not to mention the gradual move away from seemingly generic success tropes to a pointedly International Party vibe. Granted, dancehall and reggae have a huge following, so Wizkid absorbing some of that influence could easily be coincidental. However with the production on “Come Closer” mirroring his guest/endorser’s last album, I can’t help but feel Wizkid’s just too eager to chase the dream of being a peer, not a curiosity, and is in turn neglecting what made him so enjoyable.
[5]

Ashley John: The beat behind this track sounds like a conversational back and forth, a seesaw bouncing up and down. Where Wizkid pushes to fill the lulls of those transitions, Drake takes his time. He revels in long pauses, lets the track wind back, and delivers his response just as we are getting impatient.
[5]

Hannah Jocelyn: Much better than “Daddy Yo,” which didn’t become half the hit I thought it would — in fact, I would probably rank that lower now. This brings back what I felt was missing from J Hus, and the effects on Wizkid’s voice suggest that the secret ingredients were reverb and echoing Auto-Tune. While Future and others use it to emphasize detachment and emotionless, the way Wizkid’s voice is processed actually sounds like he has emotion on the chorus. I even like Drake’s verse, though he doesn’t sound quite at home here like Wizkid does, with characteristically awkward incorporations of slang and really long pauses. The major problem, though, is that as pretty as the chorus is, there’s a sense of melancholy that the lyrics seem to completely lack. That’s not a bad thing; I just wish that they either went fully to the sad-petty-Drake side or the more extroverted Wizkid side, but it seems to hover in between.
[6]

Jonathan Bradley: The Drake assist is a double-edged sword for Wizkid. (Isn’t it always?) A more buttery and less oily presence on a dark club track than his benefactor, Wizkid nonetheless inclines towards him here in not only style but in internationalist outlook: his patois has become more Caribbean, and though the spacey rhythm retains the West African roots of his sound, its dancehall influences are more prominent than ever.
[6]

Stephen Eisermann: More interlude than single, the real winner here is producer Sarz who has had some of the more interesting productions in recent memory. The Afro-Carribean blend is terrific and almost entrancing. The issue here is that the lyrics aren’t nearly compelling enough to deserve a production as good as this one (especially “your hair smell like the tropics, your body look nice”). Drake is the biggest hindrance on the track, offering more of his faux-suave rhymes that are becoming increasingly exhausting. Wizkid’s wordplay (the “no chaser” verse was tight) is nice and all, but this should’ve been a minute shorter, Drake-less, and the seventh track on his record, not the lead single.
[5]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: I’m sure if Drake drenched his vocals in Auto-Tune that everyone would be getting their thinkpiece caps on, but a part of me has to wonder what this song would be like if Drake committed to sounding less like himself. Of course, it’s me having this exact thought that led to the obvious revelation that this would have simply sounded better with a Nigerian pop star instead. Because when Drake comes on, “Come Closer” turns into a completely different track, one that’s hammy, unsexy, and lugubrious. Even then, I can’t get very excited by Wizkid crooning over a beat that sounds watered down and catered for Western consumption.
[3]