Unfortunately, such a lukewarm response doesn’t really necessitate first aid…

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[5.17]

Alfred Soto: From Dion to Jackson Browne and Elvis Costello, the title conceit is one of the most fruitful in rock. Every case tends to be written-through and well sung if studious. This Swedish duo’s take is no exception.
[5]

Josh Langhoff: The thoughtful Swedish sisters are right. This business of rising above whatever tries to change you, the concept of “integrity” to yourself, is a sham that keeps you from connecting with other people. But then, so is the concept of connecting with other people, and the Kit know that, too — “people just disappear,” probably because those people let themselves change! To sum up: assuming you know yourself is dangerous, knowing other people is impossible, and we’re all just a bunch of unmoored ciphers. This idea could make for funny songs or scary songs, even liberating songs, but one thing it’s not is a warm shawl to wrap around yourself like John Klinghammer’s clarinet. (Sounds great, John!) But you know what else is a sham? The whole form following function thing.
[6]

Micha Cavaseno: So inane and #AMERICANA I’m waiting for the Lennon & Maisy cover to occur in the next 7 months. “The Streets Of New York City” do not sound like the Ozarks, stop lying world. And the intro of that third verse is like the audio equivalent of watching a tooth develop a cavity in the instance of an eye.
[3]

Josh Love: Your revolution is over, Söderberg sisters. Condolences. The bums lost.
[4]

Luisa Lopez: The whole body of this song seems to settle around a moment at the end: the joyful, easy slides that pause for a moment at the height of their crooning. They sound like small cats walking country roads at night with their eyes turned toward the city. In a song with plenty of words, it seems odd that the truest and most tender moment would make its shape around a sound without voices. This is a trick music pulls sometimes, taking the intention of a verse and peeling back its nervous skin so its heart beats raw and honest, suddenly free from the fear of words and the many things they can mean. Words change a lot here, from weak to free, from young to struck, your body here and disappeared. Living as a girl (First Aid Kit calls them “master pretenders” with an affection and derision so effectively mixed that the song sometimes sounds like a letter from a friend you no longer speak to) often means a shift from one thing to another very quickly, much sooner in appearance than in reality, holding the door open for yourself as you watch the person you know you were and are struggle to meet you. It’s a labor of love; you know you’ll get there eventually. Till then, you’ll be a master defender. 
[8]

Juana Giaimo: There are plenty of easily enjoyable folky songs as well as “everything’s not alright, but it can get better” songs and this one doesn’t stand out in either way.
[5]