The Singles Jukebox

Pop, to two decimal places.

Category: Uncategorized

  • City Girls – Twerkulator

    Sorry for Planet Rocking…


    [Video]
    [6.40]

    Thomas Inskeep: If you were to simply tell me, “City Girls are gonna talk some shit over a chunk of ‘Planet Rock,’ and interpolate the Chicago house classic ‘Percolator‘ while they do it,” I’d probably give this at least a [6] without even hearing it. And then I heard it, and it’s even better than that, because these Miami rappers know how to ride these electro beats.  
    [8]

    Aaron Bergstrom: By one unofficial count, “Planet Rock” has been sampled more than four hundred times. Luther Campbell recently turned sixty. Bunny D from L’Trimm is married with four kids, working as a nurse and writing children’s books. The original “Coffee Pot (It’s Time for the Percolator)” turns thirty next year. “Tootsee Roll” is twenty-seven. Godmother Trina is more than two decades removed from her debut. “B.M.F.” came out in 2010. Since it’s fun to reappropriate the adages of dead racists in a context they would hate: “The past is never dead. It’s not even past. It’s time for the twerkulator.”
    [9]

    Alfred Soto: Like Dante’s Divine Comedy and James Jamerson’s bass lines, “Planet Rock” has proven sturdy enough to endure myriad re-imaginings, re-purposings, and outright thefts. My home girls can write smart smut. “Twerkulator” has a by-the-numbers approach, as if some wag had asked City Girls to perform at a birthday party.
    [5]

    Will Adams: The appeal of the hook is obvious. “Planet Rock”‘s legacy makes it a cross-generational nostalgia goldmine, and the titlular riff on “Percolator” is as memorable as Songs of the Summer get. But the fun starts and ends there. On their respective verses, neither of the City Girls make any effort to match the hook’s energy. Yung Miami in particular, sounds especially stiff, to the point that it’s hard to listen to.
    [5]

    Oliver Maier: It’s not that Yung Miami would’ve had to be good at rapping for this to be a success — JT herself is only ever just fine — it’s that she is so very bad at rapping that it kills all the irreverent, head-empty fun. Stop the twerkulator please, I want to get off.
    [5]

    Nortey Dowuona: Boring but competent first verse, interesting but boringly sloppy second verse, the beat is a meh reskin of a pederast’s work… we sure this isn’t “Juicy Booty?” 
    [4]

    Samson Savill de Jong: Sounds like a New Orleans bounce pastiche, but this is dull and uninspired to my ear. Maybe because I’m a white English dude, but this doesn’t put me in the mood to get down and dirty at all. JT’s verse, the one that went viral when the song leaked, is fine, and Yung Miami will thank me for not commenting on her verse.
    [3]

    Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: Unlike prior City Girls hits, which have minimized either JT or (mostly) Miami depending on the mood, “Twerkulator” balances their respective prerogatives — JT gets hook duty and most of the quotable lines, but Miami still makes more of an emotive impression, breaking from the rigid cadence of JT’s verse and the “Planet Rock” rip with something more anarchistic in its approach to rhythm. They’re stronger together! Bonus points for Lil Yachty (the secret third City Girl, at this point) on the whisper intro-outro-bookends, which really just add to the late ’80s retro feel.
    [7]

    Ady Thapliyal: 1) SOB x RBE proved that triplet flows over ’80s beats is très magnifique 2) this is faaaar better than City Girls’ previous attempt at a twerk anthem 3) this song had me dancing the entire weekend — can that be aesthetically valuable? 4) “Twerkulator” is no more or no less that what it should be. I think that’s enough. 
    [10]

    Rachel Saywitz: While I wish that the tracks off of City on Lock could have gotten the same chart love that “Twerkulator” is getting, the song’s hype and eventual release provides once again the power of narrative and collective togetherness  — the song traveled around TikTok as an unreleased snippet late last year and went viral, a story that has become increasingly familiar in the music industry. But anyway, song-wise, “Twerkulator” is thankfully more than just a few seconds of JT — it’s a whole party-throwing vibe emphasized by its Afrika Bambaataa sample, which hops in with its eerie synths at each drop of the hook, sounding like a command blaring down from a UFO: “IT’S TIME FOR THE TWERKULATOR.” I can’t not obey such a tempting demand as that! 
    [8]

  • Modest Mouse – We Are Between

    Score-wise, checks out…


    [Video]
    [4.29]

    Andrew Karpan: A blissful rehash in that beloved mold of “Under Cover of Darkness,” though I suppose there’s no reason you couldn’t say the same about something like that most recent KOL record too: anthemic performances of ’00s rock bands reduced to three-chord sonic signatures, with aspirations of translating brand awareness into mainstream rock radio play. Screened through the “trademark” (his label’s press release calls it this, and someday, maybe, a lawsuit will too) of Isaac Brock’s agitated growl, this one comes off something like Matt Berninger doing Adele’s “Hello” on the karaoke box, which is nice enough or better than anything he’s minted out in the last decade. Good on him. I leave its chime of soaring chords with the same aspirations as his handlers at Epic Records.
    [5]

    Alfred Soto: The opening salvo recalls Wild Nothings, Isaac Brock thickly bellows like the fortysomething Lindsey Buckingham, and the title recalls themselves. So why is “We Are Between” inert? The descriptions of personal crisis that substituted for the Pixies’ figurative expressions complemented the gnarled guitar lines. Now, the former sound canned and the latter muted. 
    [3]

    Nortey Dowuona: The guitars spin out a few spikes, then Isaac Brock’s shaky voice climbs atop the spikes as they smash against the bass and the drums. They open up, letting Isaac crawl through, then smash down again as he slips free. The guitars whir rotely and disappear as Isaac flies away on a bed of synths.
    [7]

    John Pinto: About midway through Pfork’s Lonesome Crowded West doc, Calvin Johnson’s (expectedly) less-than-rigorous standards as a producer come up. His laxness at the board led to some cool moments (the whirring effects and dub delays on “Trucker’s Atlas,” a song I’d give a [10]), as well as some tracks so out-of-tune, they had to be re-recorded with Phil Ek. “We Are Between” is such a shockingly bland cut from a band that, at their peak, thrilled by forcing big ambitions into the most ramshackle of vehicles, so you kinda gotta wonder: is this Pro Tools’ fault?
    [3]

    Jeffrey Brister: Look, it’s not instantly memorable–songs like that are lightning in a bottle, aberrations, exceptional bits of history, shooting stars, etc etc. But a meat-and-potatoes groovy, dancy post-punk song with yowled vocals has its own pleasures–straight ahead, unshowy, filled with teeny flourishes that pop out in subsequent listens. And I’m a sucker for wide-eyed, uncynical songs about our earthly impermanence.
    [6]

    Ian Mathers: I’m not super knowledgable about Modest Mouse’s past body of work, but I gotta say that lyrics and music both this feels pretty far from “If you could be anything you want I bet you’d be disappointed, am I right?” or “Laugh hard, it’s a long way to the bank.” And not for the better.
    [3]

    Aaron Bergstrom: This Is A Long Song For Someone With Nothing To Sing About
    [3]

  • Dead Blonde – Мальчик на девятке

    From St. Petersburg, a synthwave club banger — or, should we say, Yoshi’s Island Door 3-core?


    [Video]
    [6.00]

    Dorian Sinclair: Internet funnyman Brian David Gilbert has a spotify playlist titled “castle chase music” (the perfect music for being chased through a castle). It’s a somewhat loose definition, but the hallmarks are minor modalities, pulsing synth, and a certain melodramatic grandeur. All-time greats of the genre include “Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)“, “Lay All Your Love on Me“, and Susanne Sundfør’s “Accelerate“. Now, “Мальчик на девятке” is not as good as any of these songs. But it’s part of a storied lineage, and I would be more than happy to hear it while being chased through a castle.
    [6]

    Mark Sinker: Retro-electro-pop by numbers, including lin-drums even. The component parts — melody, harmony, rhythm, you know — are screaming at one another to be less clunky and lumpen and more slinky, to plane the big knobby corners off of everything and fun up.
    [4]

    Nortey Dowuona: The chanting synth bass lifts up the lead synths as they run around the house. Dead Blonde dryly offers the bass money to chase the baby lead synth, then rushes after it with a few of their echoes. But the lead synths have hidden underneath the basement drums, then the baby lead synth kicks the door into the hinge and runs away. Nonplussed, Dead Blonde shoves the door open and gives chase, running into a spiderweb of the baby lead synth’s diapers. She trips and falls, knocked out.
    [7]

    Katherine St Asaph: File under songs I want to throw into Audiosurf immediately, as well as songs you can sing “Call the Ships to Port” over, though it’s probably closer in execution to “Dragostea din Tei.”
    [7]

    Juana Giaimo: I can see this working on a crowded and noisy dance floor at night — the opening synth is easy to recognize and the kind of spoken vocal melody easy to sing euphorically. But in my room, it’s a fun and spooky song that I’ll forget tomorrow. 
    [5]

    Samson Savill de Jong: This bangs. It bangs in all the ways you’d expect a club banger to bang, but it bangs nevertheless. There’s not a lot complex or innovative here (barring the lyrics, which are a wild ride, but not something I’d necessarily pay attention to even if I were fluent in Russian), but do you need to be complex or innovative when you can just bang? Nyet.
    [7]

  • DJ Maphorisa & Tyler ICU ft. Kabza De Small, Sir Trill – Banyana

    A somewhat low score by amapiano standards…


    [Video]
    [6.25]

    Crystal Leww: DJ Maphorisa helped produce two of the best songs of the last decade in one of the last truly great Drake singles “One Dance” and the deeply romantic banger “Suited” by Shekhinah. “Banyana” settles for something much more like his DJ sets than the production that he makes for pop stars, and while it’s perfectly lovely, it’s not memorable beyond a light boogie at the pool party this summer.
    [5]

    Tobi Tella: A dance track with a beat this basic shouldn’t work at all, but I’ll admit by halfway through I was ready to throw a little ass in an “at my grandma’s birthday, can barely move my legs in traditional wear with my whole extended family” way.
    [5]

    Tim de Reuse: Mercifully unconcerned with drops and grand structural statements, it rises slowly, meanders about gracefully, then falls; hell, the kick drum itself lacks a snappy entrance, which is not something I thought could sound this natural within the genre of house. It’s not awe-inspiring sonically (a bit dry for my tastes), but it knows exactly how to use a slow-burn to show itself off from every angle.
    [7]

    Ady Thapliyal: This is a tribute to classic deep house, which is why Sir Trill’s impressively androgynous vocals in the first verse mimic the chorus of the old house hit this song samples from, and why the production is adorned Korg M1 organ riffs and those beeps from Alice Deejay. That’s fine, but considering how far DJ Maphorisa has pushed the amapiano sound on songs like “Koko,” this can’t help but feel not up to snuff. 
    [6]

    Samson Savill de Jong: Well constructed, but something that feels designed to be played in the background to provide noise whilst you’re trying to concentrate on an actual task, rather than something I can get into. Also, I could have really done without the two minute outro — nothing interesting happens, and it makes the song feel way too long.
    [5]

    Nortey Dowuona: One of the beautiful parts of amapiano is the beautiful voices of the various South African singers (and even DJ’s) that soar above the small mixtures of sunlight shiny synths, gurgling spinner bass and rumbling, skipping drums. With “Banyana” DJ Maphoriza, one of my fave DJs, Kabza de Small and Tyler ICU merely add 4 musical elements, and those are sufficient to carry the honeyed tones of Sir Trill and Daliwonga and send the song soaring into the atmosphere.
    [10]

    Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: The beat here is great — midnight-tinged, sleep-deprived amapiano with just enough melodic variations to stay compelling over the course of seven minutes of run. Yet the more interesting half of “Banyana” is the vocal — the verses and hooks flow into each other with a feverish insistence, the call-and-response portions and repeated syllables lending the track the feeling of walls closing in. It’s a track that channels the paranoia of even a good night on the dancefloor, the ever-present other side of euphoria.
    [7]

    Rachel Saywitz: At almost seven minutes, “Banyana” doesn’t go as hard as I’d like it to, foregoing a big drop in favor of small hills and valleys that peak with every guest verse. But even each verse sounds gentle in its approach — every articulated word building up to a flat surface, a dry offering. Ah well. It’ll please someone, just not me. 
    [5]

  • Minelli – Rampampam

    Fourfourfour…


    [Video]
    [4.44]

    Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: For a generic club pop banger it’s strangely devoid of hooks — it does the whole icy, reserved verse thing without opening out onto the kind of big chorus that you’d expect as a release of tension. Instead there’s just a slight pulse, a light intensification with no particular direction.
    [4]

    Dorian Sinclair: Most of “Rampampam” is perfectly serviceable, but familiar. I like the pulse of the bass and drum, I enjoy the minor-key synth stabs, but I’ve heard them many times before and will hear them many times in future. That opening, though, where she bubbles ominously up out of the depths of the mix, is genuinely interesting. Even as the rest of the song fades from my memory, I’ll be thinking about that little trick for a while.
    [6]

    Ian Mathers: Not terribly distinctive but not unpleasant; the biggest disappointment is probably, upon hearing how she’s using the title, in realizing that I can’t even say it’s changed how I hear “The Little Drummer Boy” because I’ve already heard “Careful (Click, Click)“.
    [6]

    Will Adams: Does this count as me already losing the Little Drummer Boy Challenge?
    [5]

    Alfred Soto: I can hear traces of Katy B’s playful pop-house in the onomatopoetic hook. The bass does bump-bump. 
    [6]

    Juana Giaimo: Hearing this kind of bland generic tracks makes me miss f(x) even more. 
    [3]

    Nortey Dowuona: Minelli’s airy, floating voice stays out of the skipping percussion and muddy bass before the flat drums and dull bass kick in, with Minelli ghostly floating over it, an annoyed but thoughtful tone within her voice, simply pacing through the motions until the swampy synths under the bridge crash against it. Minelli floats above it, watching it wash away.
    [4]

    Oliver Maier: Minelli is trying to exude litheness, but it’s hard when she’s using about 5 or 6 notes and everything happening under her is total muck. “Rampampam” goes through the motions of tension and release without interest. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.
    [3]

    Rachel Saywitz: The bass-heavy bounce & percussive pounding of “Rampampam”‘s hook bodes well for short form, as TikTok would have it. But in context with the rest of the track, it does nothing to uplift Minelli’s manufactured gloom, only drags it down more. “My soul is hollow,” Minelli’s vocal deadpans in the start of the bridge. We understand, maybe too well.
    [3]

  • Polo G ft. Lil Wayne – GANG GANG

    Or, RAPSTAR ft. Rap Star


    [Video]
    [6.86]

    Andrew Karpan: If the coming longplayer is, like the pundits and the charts say, Polo G’s big grab at mass communication, “GANG GANG” is a curious outlier, a slinky piece of mock R&B that comments on the form while performing it, a kind of glittering irony that the video clip generates into an incredibly lucid amount of sense. (It involves a lot of “magical CGI lightning.”) The star feature, played by an inimitably game Lil Wayne, reaches its equally curious apex when, in a largely unrelated aside, the New Orleans rapper drums up with the phrase “Uncle Snoop and Martha Stew” to describe the languid, too-familiar pair of lifestyle-icons-turned-reality-TV-stars. Which is to say that it’s an introspective party record, in that it celebrates itself, quietly and with some remove.
    [6]

    Oliver Maier: “@ MEH” with the empty spaces coloured in. Polo is unexciting but dependable, mostly here to set up the alley-oop for a mesmerizing Wayne verse.
    [7]

    Ady Thapliyal: Polo G crams two choruses into his half of the song, while Lil Wayne gets two dozen bars to play around in — Weezy kills this, but it wasn’t a fair fight. There’s no space for Polo G to show off his renowned lyricism, but Wayne is right at home on a bubbly pop track. And the crystalline production from the completely unknown Angelo Ferraro is spectacular. 
    [7]

    Nortey Dowuona: I was gonna make an I Am joke, but I guess this is the “Favor for a Favor.” That’s great, ‘cuz “Favor for a Favor” is great and so is this.
    [8]

    Samson Savill de Jong: Polo G’s verse is pretty good, but that’s about it. The beat is dull, and even though Wayne buries himself under so much Auto-Tune that it’s hard to parse his words initially, what he’s actually saying is pretty trash, words designed to rhyme rather than make sense.
    [4]

    Mark Sinker: It’s not really what the words are saying at all but the sound here is just full of lazy summer languor and fuck-it why-do-anything-now physical wisdom that I’ve decided not to push past that today…
    [7]

    Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: Polo G sounds better here than he does on his typical acoustic-sad-type-beats — his own mix of melancholy and grandeur is already full-formed enough that he doesn’t need the backing track to match him exactly. Instead, he gets one of Drake’s lackeys to conjure up something farther on the fringes of contemporary rap, closer to Injury Reserve (RIP) or Drain Gang beats in its synthetic organicism. It’s like he’s wrestling with the beat itself, his croons and boasts brushing up against the burble of the synths. It’s fruitful territory for Wayne as well — in the livelier atmosphere he sounds less like the museum piece that his features over the past year have made him out to be. Instead, he manages to conjure up something of the old mixtape Weezy — he even shouts out his past lives as he repeats the hook, taking Polo G’s tribute and turning it into something of a rededication.
    [9]

  • YOASOBI – Mō Sukoshi Dake

    The only controversy here is whether the song is too long or if it’s short. (Your editor felt it was fairly short, so your mileage may also vary).


    [Video]
    [6.43]

    Ryo Miyauchi: YOASOBI alter course, and as an unfortunate result, none of the irony or juxtaposition that made “Yoru Ni Kakeru” a pop curio, if not a huge sensation, live on in “Mou Sukoshidake.” Ayase’s sprightly piano riff and skipping melody have nothing to play against as the lyrics unfold as straightforwardly sentimental and predictably optimistic. Sure, the duo could’ve been against tough opposition: “Yoru Ni Kakeru” is age-restricted now on YouTube likely for its mention of suicide, so they perhaps had to lighten up their writing as they turned this one in. And yet you still have peers like Aimyon channeling ambivalence to pop without sacrificing style or wit, even for big media tie-ins. Even if “Mō Sukoshi Dake” is a sincere attempt from YOASOBI to offer something cheery for a change, positivity here is too easily found to leave behind any worthwhile reward.
    [5]

    Mark Sinker: REVIEW IN THE FORM OF A QUESTION: isn’t 3.40 insanely long for the competition-winning theme tune of a morning news show, even if it’s so perky? Or do they simply fade it early on — in which case these’s a lot of careful thought and variation gone into the later stages of the arrangement? I mean, none of this my problem really but…
    [5]

    Juana Giaimo: It’s been three days since I first listened to this and I still feel the same. I love the playful piano (and it does so many things, you could listen to this song a hundred times and still discover new things) the sweet vocals, the synth solo that fits the song perfectly and the key change towards the end, which is unexpected but not so shocking to mess up how warm this song is. I wish I had more time to write something meaningful, but I just want to thank this song for being an unexpected caress in the middle of a hard day. 
    [9]

    Dorian Sinclair: “Mō Sukoshi Dake” is a beautifully light and airy piece — the lift of the chorus contrasts really well with the conversational delivery and looser melody of the verse, and Ikura’s voice (augmented with a well-judged hint of post-production warble) suits both extremely well. That said, there are some missteps. Most notable is the buzzy synth solo two minutes in, which is jarringly different from any of the other instruments on the track, but the song is also about one chorus too long — if the key change at the end was cut and the ending rewritten, I think it would feel significantly tighter.
    [7]

    Alfred Soto: A winsome performance singing ice cream van melody does not make me miss some tartness, but at almost four minutes long it could’ve used an editor.
    [6]

    Rachel Saywitz: As a standalone single, “Mō Sukoshi Dake” is a plain but acceptable summer ditty, Ikura’s (half of YOASOBI) voice ringing through with a sweet but precise lilt. If we were rating this song in the context of how well it would do on a morning news TV show, however, it’d be 10s all around, considering that this is indeed a theme song for a morning news show in Japan. Imagine something like The Daily opening with this precious little pick-me-up of a song! Nothing Barbaro can say will bring me down after this cute banger!
    [7]

    Nortey Dowuona: Warm, plush piano driven anime outdo music. And it’s short!
    [6]

  • J. Cole ft. 21 Savage and Morray – My Life

    Also featuring like 21 Songs in the Hot 100 at the same time.


    [Video]
    [5.50]

    Crystal Leww: I cannot believe that I’ve spent ten years of my adult life not subjected to J. Cole’s fake deep bullshit. “My Life” is more of the same from J. Cole, who made this song probably five or six times in the last decade or so and better. The references are updated — Squarespace, Ja Morant — but really what is this doing for anyone besides people who were already fans of J. Cole? 
    [4]

    Rachel Saywitz: This man just compared himself to Rihanna in the age of Rihanna’s internet. Absolutely disrespectful. To think you would even be on her level. I will not have it. Song is fine. 
    [5]

    Jeffrey Brister: Earnest struggle raps get to me in the best way, especially when buoyed by syrupy, soulful hooks. J’s verse is energetic and emotional, filled with detail. 21 Savage doesn’t have the same combustible forward motion, but he fills every beat with syllables and doesn’t flag.
    [7]

    Samson Savill de Jong: I’ve never been entirely on board the J. Cole hype train. Previous projects have contained flashes of the brilliance his fans insist he has, but I’ve never felt it sustained over the course of a whole album. People like me will often point to features and work he’s done over other beats, and argue that the problem with his albums, where Jermaine produces everything and hasn’t had features, is that Cole is too comfortable. So the fact that this album has both features and other producers immediately makes it of interest. This song is a positive sign that it might just have paid off. Cole sounds more focused than I’ve heard him for a while. I like that he never postures as a gangster, and instead talks about the envy he felt of those who made money when they took a route he wouldn’t or couldn’t. 21’s verse is cool, he certainly fits in very well whilst presenting a contrast with the more energetic Cole. I like the hook without really thinking it fits the song, the way the beat drops out for it makes it too disconnected, like they’ve stitched three different parts together rather than one cohesive whole. Still, my expectations are raised for when I get around to actually listening to the album in full, so job done.
    [8]

    Alfred Soto: His talents and accomplishments glimmer like a Supreme Court justice’s resume. He mostly creates his own beats and he inserts shows of compassion. He doesn’t court the tabloid press and he wants listeners to regard him as a musician first. Ten years into a career with no signs of fatigue, J. Cole hasn’t created much compelling music. Morray steals the track, a wan thing reliant on the usual soul samples and the supremely uninspiring declaration “My life is all I have.” 
    [5]

    Ady Thapliyal: The Scorsese choral harmonies of “Gangsta’s Paradise” make a return here, but J. Cole & 21 Savage don’t really bring the drama to match. For a rapper origin story, the lyrics fail to answer what makes J. Cole J. Cole, and instead replay the neorealistic details of hard knocks and big dreams that adorn many a rapper’s press release biography. This could be anyone’s life. 
    [2]

    Nortey Dowuona: Y’know, I was gonna write a big long paragraph about how 21Savage has become the most accessible young’n to these older rap fans who are thrown by the squawking and chirping and shrieking that more complex rappers in his generation do and has blended that with a growing maturity, how Morray is one of the rap worlds best rappers-turnt-sangas and deffo should’ve capped this off with a great verse, that the heavy, succulent drums under this warm flip of… “The Life” by Styles and Pharoahe, done by THE Jake One and Wu10 is some of the best beat work I’ve heard this year – but well…TOP OF THE MORNING.
    [9]

    Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: 21 Savage continues to expand his emotive and lyrical range, but everyone else here seems stuck in caricature mode — Morray’s soul singer pastiche sounds silly in the face of the actual soul sample, and J. Cole is even worse. His shift from bemused mutters to hyped-up yells is utterly devoid of energy, a predictable move that too-big-to-fail rappers (really just him, Kendrick Lamar, and Drake at this point) move towards because it conveys range without really requiring it. It’s big box conscious rap for nobody’s sake, a song with no particular message but the vibe of deep import.
    [4]

  • Bonus Tracks for Week Ending June 6, 2021

  • Inna – Flashbacks

    Alexandra Stan making a Peters and Lee playlist as we speak…


    [Video][Website]
    [5.62]

    Mark Sinker: I was eight when Mary Hopkin took “There Were the Days” to no.1, and just bowled over by false memory syndrome: I too recalled drinking and laughing in that tavern, the lovely way things had been and were no more. I’d never been and I wanted to go back. The tendrils in Inna’s voice when she drops out of meaning into rococo curlicue at the chorus is somehow an echo here for me of an eerily similar fake-space, like I swapped ghosts with a stranger. Also her silver frock is amazing.
    [7]

    Danilo Bortoli: The song aims at melancholy but actually lands on a plateau — it hardly develops. Which, I think, is a good description of reminiscing on a past relationship. But I think that was more accident than a conscious decision.
    [5]

    Scott Mildenhall: Too often, the sound Inna employs here is used without due consideration. A go-to for amateur remixers, its cruder forms can be surprisingly effective, but it’s still satisfying when someone goes to the effort of actually building a song around it. Much of the mood of “Flashbacks” is not reliant on scary vworps; rather, Inna sets out a delicately, thinly layered story to explain them. Pensive and spacious, it makes a little go a long way.
    [7]

    Nortey Dowuona: The flat drums and beeping synths are muffled to clearly show Inna’s sticking, crackling voice, which crashes against the boot-stomping bass and flat-footed goose down drums with papery claps, barely enough to complete the idea. 
    [3]

    Alfred Soto: Oh boy, did I not expect that transition. The plinking piano intro segues into a thumper with vaguely Balearic undertones, and Inna is one of those vocalists who centers introspection in the middle of a dance floor.
    [7]

    Edward Okulicz: I’m really not sure what to make of how this moves from pensive and slightly mournful to a bassy, last-minute-at-the-disco stomp that might have suited Rita Ora. Inna does enough to convince in both moods, but it’s the weird, haunting pulse of the piano that keeps the two halves together. There’s something off-putting about that piano, but I’m fairly sure the song would fall apart without it, and it’d be a shame to spoil the melody.
    [7]

    Juana Giaimo: That piano is so unsettling, it seems to belong to a different song (I actually paused the video to check). I’ve never been a fan of Inna’s generic voice (it’s like a flat Dua Lipa, and though I’m not entirely sure how rich Dua Lipa’s voice is, we’ve listened to her so much over the last couple of years that she’s made us believe she has a unique one). Here she does nothing to either complement or dissipate those eerie vibes going on in the background. I really don’t enjoy this at all.  
    [2]

    Katherine St Asaph: That sonar piano works in the most effortless, obvious way, the aural equivalent of flashback soft-focus — but it does work, especially since they don’t turn it off for the drop.
    [7]