Fantastic expectations, amazing revelations?

[Video]
[4.50]
Alfred Soto: Like “Clap,” it relies on sprung rhythms, guitar with smut just so, and breathy desperation, and I can’t explain why it doesn’t stick.
[5]
Joshua Minsoo Kim: It’s sensory overload — even the quieter moments are tense — but it all congeals into an aggro-EDM gloop that leaves much to be desired. Like, what good is impressive vocal arrangement if the instrumentation amasses everything into a monolithic wall of sound. The flute melody is the only thing that has a chance of standing out, but these trap-influenced bits are getting terribly overdone in K-pop now. No surprise there, though — Korean pop stars and their songwriters/producers can’t adapt to newer trends in the post-trap rap world.
[4]
Kylo Nocom: Horrifically bloated with whispers, flutes, half-assed raps, and God knows what else. A lot of build-up just for one clumsy wet fart drop.
[2]
Alex Clifton: A watered-down version of “Blood Sweat and Tears” that has far less drama and danger than I need. I know Seventeen can hit the highs when they want to, but, sadly, “Fear” plays on boring boy-band autopilot.
[3]
Michael Hong: “Fear” is a single melody interwoven across the thirteen members, constantly jumping between members and consistently changing styles. Occasionally, it lands on something interesting, like S.Coup’s rap, but most of the time its content to allow members to effectively hold the melody across the chaotic background. Just as impressively as Seventeen use chaos, they use silence, allowing the track to surprise you on moments like when the background completely drops out and Jeonghan whispers “I love you oh and regret it again” or the second of silence before the final 30 seconds of excess. “Fear” works because of the strength of its hook, its strong sense of its melody, and those stunning moments across its densely packed space.
[7]
Katherine St Asaph: It’s almost time for best-of-the-2010s lists, all of which will probably omit a huge part, and to me a highlight, of the decade’s first half: the dark, pulsing electro of Born This Way, certain Kesha songs, etc. “Fear” rests atop the same sludge. There’s a bit too much atop it, and the sound is flagrantly dated if you care about that, but I don’t.
[6]