In which Joshua is mathematically optimistic…
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[3.57]
Hannah Jocelyn: Rachel Platten is the most [6] artist ever — her songs don’t necessarily break any ground, but they are always done with much more effort than necessary. Even “Fight Song” has some really interesting things going on beyond the chorus (Mike Senior of Sound On Sound gave a technical breakdown a couple of years ago). We already know what a Stargate song sounds like when no one involved cares, but the chorus is suspiciously good for Inspirational Vaguely Feminist Song #27, as is Stargate’s production here. While the drop is inevitable, Platten’s equally obligatory drop ad-libs don’t even sound like they’re trying to be cool. It feels like she thinks she’s phoning it in, but doesn’t even realize how catchy that little hook is.
[6]
Stephen Eisermann: When Rachel Platten first hit the scene, I thought she was Rachael Ray trying out music. Clearly, I have an issue with names and faces, but it made sense that such a peppy and positive chef/talk show host would release a song like “Fight Song.” But “Fight Song” worked (barely) because of the production and the passion with which Rachel sang. Those two ingredients are sorely lacking in “Broken Glass,” where Rachel gives us a bland vocal, stale lyrics, and a generic island beat.
[2]
Rebecca A. Gowns: It’s supposed to be about victory and release and spite and rooting for our underdog hero, but it just sounds anonymous.
[3]
Will Adams: Rachel Platten’s brand was built on explosive, anthemic choruses. But now that she’s been shoved into the tropical box, her chorus now has to be the build-up for a drop and instrumental break. The fluttering vocal hook is rather nice, but the dissonance between EDM and traditional pop structure has never been more apparent.
[4]
Alfred Soto: She’s gonna dance to a trop house rhythm, more like, belting clichés as if she thought of them herself.
[2]
Katherine St Asaph: I guess a beach — the industry’s Fyre Festival-ad version of such, from which trop-house and dancehall emanate — would have a ton of broken glass. Which is the only thing that makes sense in this mess o’ metaphors: a highway full of red lights and train tracks with people tied to them (I guess what that’s what the red lights are for?), with waves to surf, plus the ceiling raining down bricks as well as odds — look, any one of these might work, at least by pop-song standards, as underlying darkness, but not all at once. Points, I suppose, for how the drop kinda evokes a sadistic voice teacher forcing out a student’s high notes by scattering shards on the floor.
[3]
Anjy Ou: I feel like this song should be better than it is: Platten delivers a great vocal performance, the lyrics have some great imagery (“so what, still got knives in my back”), and the falsetto at the end of the chorus is a nice way to represent the joy that comes from living through things. But it goes right through me. Maybe because in an attempt to hit on that catchy, folk song/island vibe that’s popular right now, the song emphasizes the broken glass and not the dancing.
[5]