[Video]
[4.89]
[4]
Alfred Soto: Dinky up is a helluva hook, I’ll admit.
[6]
Claire Davidson: Katseye has always been more of a product than a genuine artistic endeavor. This is true in a literal sense; I think I could name the group’s various ad campaigns more easily than their actual songs. That these girls have so breathlessly lent themselves to so many commercials, though, speaks to the fact that their inception was predicated on selling an aspirational brand of young womanhood: stylish and confident, yes, but crucially influenced by a global perspective, their joint-label overheads keenly aware that the group’s target demographic is progressive to a fault. There have remained cracks in Katseye’s inclusive façade, though. Beyond the fact that all the members are conspicuously sample-sized, that they’ve been forced to enact punishingly intense choreography in addition to these round-the-clock brand deals only speaks to the patriarchal logic that governs the group’s existence: ultimately, these girls are only truly valuable for their bodily labor, whether that be in service of selling luxury goods to women or cultivating titillation from men. That Manon Bannerman left Katseye before they could even release their third EP comes as no surprise; this model of self-commodification was never really sustainable. Yet her absence only serves to make “Pinky Up,” the group’s first single since her departure, sound even more hollow, not least because it’s the latest entry in the canon of Katseye tracks that function more as slogan compilations than actual songs. Of the three hyperpop–inflected singles the group has released, it’s at least the most successful, its steady bass thump and grainy, jittering synth melody capturing the wistful camaraderie the lyrics vaguely evoke. (Though the verses’ wild hedonism doesn’t exactly suit the stiff upper lips that raised-pinky imagery calls to mind.) The girls even sweetly harmonize on the pre-chorus, a development that almost feels promising until the arrival of that hook: a nasal, dead-eyed repetition of the titular phrase — one whose inclusion betrays the fact that the song was merely intended as banal TikTok fodder, marking yet another one of the group’s concessions to fleeting commercial whims.
[5]
Al Varela: Can this band make anything that isn’t just throwing catchphrases at a wall to see what sticks? Do they have any artistic ambitions or are they just Cocomelon for people who buy their clothes off of TikTok?
[3]
Jel Bugle: They are kind of a faux K-Pop Blink 182, juvenile attitude! I don’t mind this one, it’s fine!
[7]
Ian Mathers: So far I’ve quite liked two of the Katseye songs we’ve covered, and they are… very different. And here I find I’m not only not unhappy that they seem to be tacking into a “Gnarly”-er direction, but I think I would have been slightly disappointed if they’d gone less aggro. And as a guiding principle for the song, “pinky up” seems about as inchoate as “gnarly.” Which is not a complaint; I look forward to the inevitable Tumblr fanpost and/or doctoral thesis called something like “The Triumph of Boshing Over Signification in the Music of Katseye.”
[8]
Will Adams: I’ll still defend “Gnarly,” even though the only lesson Katseye et al. seem to have taken from that is MAKE IT WACKY. Which results in someone thinking it’s a good idea to make your promising girl group have their next hook be “eat zucchini.” Except now it’s “eat TruFru (use promo code SOCRATES at checkout for 20% off your first order of over $50!!!).” “Pinky Up” is a jumbled mess, toggling between rave toughness (really just a sanded-down “Jump”) and a BFF anthem with notes of 2012’s apocalypse-pop themes, which is not helped by the looming cloud of Manon’s abrupt departure. Even the last-minute “Meet Her at the Love Parade” synths can’t save it. Pinky half-raised, if that.
[4]
Nortey Dowuona: FOR MANON.
[0]
Scott Mildenhall: Once upon a time, planetary collapse was something to build a whole song around. Now, Katseye invoke it early and move on. Deadened to the death of all things, or yet to fully digest it? It’s hard to tell. “Pinky Up” raises questions of consciousness so casually that it can’t not be knowing; only it feels like it probably can. It may well come from a non-place of genuine vacuity, and that may well be the destination it beckons you towards. Only Techno Viking can save you now.
[7]