Aaagh, a chestburster!

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[4.83]
Stephen Eisermann: Charlie Puth is the polar opposite of Shawn Mendes. Where Shawn begs for affection because nice guys totally deserve to get in your pants, Charlie says you should just deal with him being an asshole because he totally didn’t mean to, so don’t punish my heart, babe; but, for those men who are reading, neither is correct. No, you can’t expect anything other than friendship from men/women you’re nice to, but you also cannot be a dickhead and expect everything to be better by saying sorry. Now, about the song… fuck it’s an ear worm, isn’t it?
[6]
Micha Cavaseno: It’s got the disco-slink of early Robin Thicke before the narrative wars came in, although Puth’s characterless quality allows him to think more of wallpapering his songs than trying to actually be a soul man. That’s a good thing though; I can’t think of anything less appealing than Puth trying to be a leading man, and he knows how to window dress a song to feel inviting so you don’t care what or who you’re actually being sold. Some really choice (and by choice I mean unfortunate) auto-tuned bits, but ultimately I can see this mid-period Maroon 5 being mistaken as real music with ease.
[3]
Alfred Soto: With Jason Derulo not charting pop these days, here comes Charlie Puth bringin’ the dork funk back. He uses rhythm licks! Falsetto! Goodness! He even pulls out the acting chops to act jealous. Watch out, Jon Secada.
[4]
Nortey Dowuona: Flat, plodding drums, limp bass, gluey synths, but Charlie Puth’s sudden mastery of Autotune and slightly visible guitar links make this a little more palatable.
[4]
Mo Kim: About a minute and a half too long.
[3]
Anthony Easton: A Timberlake 2.0—derivative of more interesting musicians, misogynist, and a fuccboi who uses the falsetto to formally apologize for that which is mostly unforgivable (the lying more than the sex). Part of it is the effort–it works so hard–how it slows down the production, that three generation quoting vocal effect, the slide that has sweat all over it, the girl group ooohs that are impossible to be read as anything but ironic, being used with ruthless sincerity. I don’t believe a word of this, I want to believe every word of it, and the gap between cynicism and willing to be seduced, (aesthetically), makes for a kind of erotic cycling. I know it’s bad for me, but it’s also kind of perfect.
[9]