And here are the reasons why we really like this!
[Video][Website]
[7.38]
Crystal Leww: 2017 felt like the year that country music stagnated, with many promising upstarts either touring their last albums (Sam Hunt, Maren Morris) or releasing new ones with very little buzz (Kelsea Ballerini). For some reason, this had an odd trickle down effect to the tier below them: there was very little to get excited about in the country music pipeline as well. Jillian Jacqueline felt like such a breath of fresh air, releasing solid single after single that eventually culminated in the Side A EP. “Reasons” was the first single released in that line, and immediately showcased her penchant for storytelling. The details here are amazing — “all alone, picking up takeout,” “standing at the same sink, we don’t even kiss goodnight,” “we were supposed to be married by the time we’re thirty” — and they paint a very specific picture but one that’s deeply relatable. By the time we hit the rolling bridge, Jacqueline’s got me hooked: “I don’t love you, you don’t love me, it can be, it should be, just that simple, baby.” It hits like a bag of bricks to the chest, something that I’ve seen more than one of my friends go through this year with their high school or college sweethearts. I hope that she has a breakout year in 2018 — this is what country music can sound like at its best.
[9]
Tim de Reuse: The line “We were supposed to be married by the time we’re thirty / breaking up is scary” is equal parts inelegant and deeply vulnerable, and Jacqueline’s lyricism stays solidly in that niche all the way through. There is something strange about that awkward straightforwardness against her confident delivery and the rousing, uplifting instrumental, possibly, but it’s too well-composed to ruin the experience. The galloping drums that propel most of the song are heavy and joyous; part of me wishes the bridge were five minutes long.
[8]
Alfred Soto: Listening to Jillian Jacqueline wail, “I’m so sick of livin’ a lie” a week before Christmas reminds me of the old saw about being in death in the midst of life and all the rest. To be queer is to live in the midst of death, or at least feel as pleasures turn to ash in your mouth. That banging piano makes a mockery of sleigh bells too.
[7]
Nortey Dowuona: Thick, flatly outlined drums stumble underneath synth bass baubles and barely visible synths and heavy, sinking piano while Jillian barely stays out of the quickly thickening mix.
[5]
Josh Langhoff: The video’s first frame shows off Jacqueline’s, or her loveless roommate’s, mantelpiece casting of Frederic Remington’s “The Mountain Man.” Accordingly, the song depicts their perilous slide down a mountain of pros and cons, their fears and lies weighing them down like so many frontier pelts. Decent song, but I don’t really care if they split up or not. Is it too soon to ask who gets the Remington?
[5]
Brad Shoup: There are the verses, with the well-mixed piano decay standing in for emptied rooms. There’s the chorus, which has a marvelous fidgety energy, and also introduces wedding-bell peals. And there’s Jacqueline’s text, which is smartly observed and bracing throughout. I like most songs about mutual breakups, I think; I wish there were more, but this will do for a long while.
[8]
Rebecca A. Gowns: This is labelled “country,” and at first it’s hard to see why, because the sound is pure pop. Sure, there’s a slight drawl pulling at the vowels, and that’s a small part of it — but more than Jacqueline’s place of origin, it feels like the lyrics are the true essence of country music. Strip away the layers of production and arrangements, and you’ll find a great-granddaughter of Dolly and Loretta’s odes to heartbreak: simple chords, an honest voice, and a tender, bittersweet story.
[8]
Julian Axelrod: When do you start thinking about the end of a relationship? Is it the hundredth time they leave the toilet seat up? Is it the very last moment, when they’re sitting you down and having The Talk? Or does it cross your mind as soon as you start seeing someone? “Reasons” has so many heartbreaking elements — the erasure of intimacy, the specter of solitude, the jolt of your life’s plan being thrown off its axis — but it’s the resignation in Jillian Jacqueline’s verses that hits me hardest. There’s so much implied history in a line like “We feel like roommates, standing at the same sink/We don’t even kiss goodnight.” This is not a sudden heartbreak, but the long-awaited endpoint of a slow decay. This is the result of years of small compromises and unspoken complaints. This is the moment you stop telling your friends and family everything’s fine. (Which is exactly the kind of huge, heartbreaking life moment people never talk about in breakup songs.) And even after all that struggle, there’s no solace in separation. You’ll be single for a while, and you’ll start dating again, and the whole cycle will start again. But for now you’re just two people, standing on the edge of heartbreak, trying to figure out when to let go.
[9]