NosfeR&B…
[Video]
[6.38]
Alfred Soto: The arrangement mixing Madonna at her most atmospheric with Dawn Richard at her most static, all that’s left is for the singer to emote through acres of echo, playing with “adult” emotions.
[4]
Anthony Easton: Reminds me of Madonna’s “Frozen,” but less well formed, and by extension less sophisticated — the wide distances and jagged edges are not experimental as much as they are just a bit lazy.
[6]
Ian Mathers: Last time more than one person commented on Aiko’s child-like vocals, but I don’t really hear that here or there. I do think the production on “Mirrors” is stronger (although I was a teenager in the ’90s so I may just be a sucker for that vaguely dusty, backwards-sounding beat). While the lyrics are mostly just functional, she’s still exceptionally good at atmosphere. Who knows if this seems like less of an “answer song” than “3:16 am” just because the Weeknd hasn’t done anything interesting in a while; the important thing is that now Aiko seems less part of a trend and more just her own, darkly seductive thing.
[8]
Hazel Robinson: This is very, very pretty and gentle, giving itself a great deal of space between snared beats and glockenspiel, so that the darker undertones of self-hate and reflection is almost hidden in the tenderness. It’s sung like it’s to a lover, urging them not to hate themselves or to dwell on their mistakes, although it’s a self-care song. Spellbinding.
[8]
Katherine St Asaph: The first few listens, I thought she was singing about someone else reflected in the mirror, rather than staring at her iPhone reflection pontificating. Needless to say, I like that interpretation better (though it’s also 3:16am more distanced — 6:16am maybe?), though the cloud of backmasking, tentative melisma and lounge marimba have minor charms.
[5]
Jonathan Bradley: Aiko can create enchanting songs, but “Mirrors” isn’t magical beyond its atmosphere. “The night takes over and you are nowhere to be found” is right; there’s little here beyond suggestion. Its pleasures are so private they disappear in upon themselves.
[5]
Alex Ostroff: With each progressive single since “Stranger“, Jhené has gotten moodier and more inward. Sailing Soul(s) had moments of lightness and sweetness and even hooks mixed in with her darker lyrical impulses, and “Mirrors” is another indication that Soul(ed) Out will give us no such relief. Thankfully, Aiko’s introspection is entrancing, as is her delivery. I’m not sure if I can handle the weight of an entire album of this, and I’d like her to give us a few bangers, but right now, at 1:30AM, there’s not much better.
[8]
Jer Fairall: Pretty but frustratingly shapeless, this is faded to the point of being completely out of focus.
[4]
Brad Shoup: I think it’s good to momentarily reflect on how wonderful it is that a singer operating in the mainstream offers us a track with hollowed-out organ, a backgrounded trip-hop beat, and reversed bells. Aiko tackles the nighttime headtrip with odd alacrity. Her genial clarity doesn’t derail things exactly — the track’s too beguiling, so her vocals just complicate the mixture. Perhaps it’s her 21st-century torch song. (I will admit, towards the end I waited for AutoTune manipulation that never came.)
[7]
Pete Baran: Somnambulent beats was a phrase that came to mind, which when you unpack it makes very little sense at all. I am sure there are sleepwalkers who have drummed — sleepdrummers I guess — but there is no reason why they would aim for a soothing mode. They are drumming, acting out some sort of dream physically. If they have found the kit, and the sticks, why on earth would they then get all Morcheeba on the kit? So I guess what I actually meant was the whole track gives off a sleepy vibe, which is either because that was the aim, or it’s actually quite dull. And unlike a thrash sleepdrummer clattering away at 180 bpm in his sleep, this is the latter.
[3]
Andy Hutchins: Distant, icy R&B is one of the best things going in music today, but there are few people better equipped to do it then Jhené, whose voice works like a warning from a wraith. The revelation here is Key Wane, best known for superb keyboard work on Meek Mill’s “Amen” and Big Sean’s “Guap,” two summery rap smashes; “Mirrors” could hardly be more different in tone and tempo without being country or metal or non-Western, and I’ll be damned if its bass echoes from deep within a glacier aren’t just as masterful.
[8]
Patrick St. Michel: Key Wane’s production navigates between glitzy and shadowy, while Aiko similarly balances between self-pride and self-doubt as she stares into the mirror. It’s not the most novel lyrical theme, but “Mirrors” handles it well by never letting one side of the inner struggle — or the sonic side — overtake the other, “Mirrors” never reaching any answers. This is an honest bit of self-exploration, because Aiko and company realize that it’s near impossible to come to a conclusion when the face your questioning refuses to say anything new.
[8]
Daniel Montesinos-Donaghy: To me, Jhené Aiko is the hoodie-wearing figure sneering a re-imagined “Jigga What Jigga Who” in Ab-Soul’s “Terrorist Threats” video. I didn’t expect music-box ambience from the lady, nor did I expect to get so carried away by it. Fitting for a song spent in front of the mirror, the mood is mostly low-key, relaxed: see how Aiko’s song-opening melismas are cut short by an uttered “okay”, sparking a genuinely off-the-cuff and unassuming moment. Then she sings of a “face in broken pieces”: an image that suddenly turns that warmness inside out and “Mirrors” turns scary, becoming a message from a desolate place. She’s that girl from “Terrorist Threats” again, detached and intimidating. Then she returns to music-box drifting without changing her delivery. Then she switches back again. Then the song ends. All that’s left to do is listen again and try to understand just how she does this so well.
[9]