We hos have proven to be loyal to our general distaste of Chris Brown! That counts for something…
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[3.50]
Anthony Easton: This is so well-constructed, with voices fitting into each other, working slowly and systematically towards a chorus of homosocial dissatisfaction. But, like an enormous amount of homosocial texts, these three seem to enjoy the company of men more than women, except for sex — where the taboo against homosexuality still trumps a longstanding distrust or dislike of women. The tension seems central here. (See also: the Vatican, small-town football teams in the American South, small-town hockey teams in central Alberta, and most of the oil patch.)
[3]
Patrick St. Michel: Yep, still near-impossible to like anything about Chris Brown, even if he stumbles into a nice beat. He just sounds like such a jerk.
[2]
Crystal Leww: Who the hell is giving these beats and hooks to Chris Brown and can’t we literally give them to anyone else? Jeremih? TeeFLii? Usher? Despite how much a hot piece of human garbage Chris Brown may be, this album round has been full of catchy original songs and hot features. He’s not essential to any of these tracks; in fact, his cartoon-like villainy plays right into the version of Chris Brown that feminists cry foul over. “Loyal” is no different with an undeniable hook that is also so fucking boring. Chris Fucking Brown wastes it with paranoid, female-blaming bitching about gold diggers. Seriously, any sweet-voiced baby boy could make that beat and melody sound hot. I hate that it’s Chris Brown who has done it yet again.
[6]
Alfred Soto: The misogyny is so insouciant that with three other dickheads I’d give’em a pass. At best the beat and main vocal smell like car vinyl roasting in summer sun. But these hos ain’t loyal.
[2]
Mallory O’Donnell: The nerve of these women, chasing after sex and drugs and fame, thinking they can emulate all the worst behavior of men. Luckily we have these three pillars of the community to show them the light.
[3]
Brad Shoup: Such offhand cruelty deployed by these guys. You’d think they were running train on an economics lecture. The track is patient, even genial: chirpy one-handed flourishes, a pipsqueak saying “let me see” like your dad heard your art project turned out OK. But these three are half-speed balls of anxiety. The women they roll with are dealing from the same deck, and even this quirky bit of equality must be spun to the advantage of Brown and company. Since Bradley brought it up, “Toot It and Boot It” got over because of how little YG gave a shit. He knows the game; he’s not trying to get ahead of it. These yuks practically put their pimp commandments in needlepoint. Maybe I’m just thinking of Minaj’s fools sharing a bottle of champagne and a chain — almost certainly an upgrade over our regular date night, by the way — and feeling bad for the collateral damage. I guess if you’re going to the same club as Chris Brown, you know the drill. It’s hard to keep an eye on your girl when there’s a patch over it.
[5]