Mixed media: Human, green screen, Photoshop cloud render effect…
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[5.43]
Will Adams: The title is probably meant to lend some sort of authenticity to this very plain ballad, like it was something scrounged up from an three-year-old iPhone recording that unfolded so organically that they just decided to leave it as is. What actually unfolds is case in point that not all of our old ideas need to be followed up on.
[4]
Alex Clifton: G-Dragon is a bombastic trash prince for the ages. He’s handsome and wrecked and beautiful, with a smirk that will cut you open. It’s understandable that this guy can give us club bangers like “Crooked” and “Crayon,” but then he drops a veritable bomb with an understated track like this. It’s just piano and vocals, and yet that’s all we need. G-Dragon’s vocals are delicate, begging for forgiveness while knowing it may be too late to save a relationship; his longing aches as he sings. At this point, I shouldn’t be surprised by G-Dragon’s versatility, seeing as he’s been a performer for a long time, but this particular song knocked me sideways.
[9]
Alfred Soto: This young polymath, who reminds me of the late Juan Gabriel in global reach, fan devotion, and expert manipulation of kitsch, sings and writes this ballad that hints at “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door” and is just as mysterious — the kind of song downloaded at a rate of millions per minute but whose anguish isn’t explained.
[7]
Will Rivitz: If there’s one thing I hate, it’s mawkish four-chord-song piano ballads with a singer whose voice is the aural equivalent of Johnson’s “No More Tears” shampoo. If there’s another, it’s when that singer happens to be an artist I usually love.
[2]
Juana Giaimo: K-pop ballads sound so artificial to me that they are almost unlistenable. In “Untitled, 2014,” the piano has too many arrangements, and G-Dragon’s voice is definitely too affected — just listen how he lingers too much on the last notes.
[4]
Micha Cavaseno: Hopeless Leo G.D. does a generic self-aggrandizing ballad that uses optimism as a cat-o-nine-tails on one’s brain, and you think I wouldn’t stan?! A document to replaying failure that narcissistically makes sure any action both push and pull is SOLELY the efforts of one person (himself), “Untitled (2014)” is a solipsistic whine disguised as austerity and tragedy and made to fit a pretty generic ballad. But for as inherently basic as it is, it’s the rare break from G-Dragon’s obsessive gimmickry to place himself alone instead of hiding in the safety of more typical bravado. The egomania is still there, just given a chance to manifest in a way that doesn’t need overt fanfare.
[7]
Kalani Leblanc: G-Dragon singing about emotions with sincerity is almost more surprising than the fact that he actually has emotions. The honesty in the lyrics is admirable, and it actually grows to you by the second try. But no matter how hard you insist to “get” “Untitled,” the blandness becomes blaring. The song believes in its own pseudo complexity while never proving itself and expects you to think the exact same.
[5]