World-class nonsense? Martial salutes? Meow Mix? All of them?
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[6.89]
Megan Harrington: Little Mix are world class plastic surgeons when it comes to grafting their adult audience onto their schoolgirl fandom. You are almost as likely to hear this at a 4 a.m. bar as at a 4 a.m. sleepover. This is an [8] song for me, but I had to dock some points for their, at best, ignorant stage costumes.
[6]
David Sheffieck: Even more packed with hooks and production twists than “Move,” not to mention the most overtly feminist lyric this side of Beyoncé, this should by all rights be a mess of ideas that fail to cohere. Through sheer force of personality and momentum, Little Mix make it one of the most thrilling, powerful singles of the year.
[10]
Stephen Thomas Erlewine: Cut from the same cloth as All Saints or any number of anonymous industry assembled groups, X-Factor winners Little Mix belongs in another time–a time where such industry bonafides counted for something, usually a hit. The empowerment calculation here is so corny, it makes the Spice Girls’ seem genuine and the hook is just too insistent to really catch. It’s kind of awful, really, but everything that’s embarrassing about it–which is every last thing, actually–is why I like it. Unlike most singles this week, I’ll remember this one.
[7]
Alfred Soto: Moving with the speed and insouciance of a K-Pop ballad, trampling over genres like it does time signatures, “Salute” updates “Wannabee” for the media overload age.
[7]
Will Adams: “Salute” is a decent clarion call to women that unfortunately only becomes powerful in the middle eight — “You think we’re just pretty things/You couldn’t be more wrong” neatly wraps things up. But I don’t know how much more patience I have for them to stick to these solid girl-group bangers instead of reverting to those soppy ballads.
[6]
Brad Shoup: I’d like to think that this martial nonsense isn’t ceded to Mrs. Carter. But her producers know how to showcase one vocalist; we have four decent singers here, and they’re smothered by a bunch of tricks (dudes chanting, awesome surf-guitar rumble, trumpet contrails). The one space for them to showcase their vocal mesh is the bridge, where they channel Alanis Morissette and levitate eighteen inches off the ground. More of the surf music; it’s just kind of nothing.
[6]
Mallory O’Donnell: Representing all the women that need Beyonce’s leftovers reheated into aggro hash. It takes nerve to serve women this stale meow mix like it’s some kind of uplifting experience.
[3]
Katherine St Asaph: Little Mix and their writers (one of whom goes by Megatron, which is awesome) achieve female empowerment by pastiching as many Beyonce songs as possible. The chassis is “Video Phone,” the bridge, militarism and conceit are “Run the World (Girls),” the vague Middle Eastern motifs and backing vox are “Baby Boy” or “Naughty Girl,” the spoken-word is probably “Diva,” the rhythm and threaded harmonies are “Jumpin’ Jumpin,” and I know I’m forgetting a lot. Unsurprisingly then, once “Salute” gets going it moves like a destroyer ship, and “get your killer heels, sneakers, pumps or lace up your boots” is weirdly, in its High Street bait way, as inclusive a statement as any songwriter’s managed. (Hazel Robinson’s written about that; sometimes what makes you feel strong is being a Jesy with enormous hair.) For substantive empowerment you’d probably want Beyonce, not the incomplete sum of her old parts, but few singles this year pack more sheer pop force per minute.
[9]
Daniel Montesinos-Donaghy: Paige comes down the ramp of the Levi’s Stadium to defend the Divas title at Wrestlemania 31, pyrotechnics flying in the background behind her and “Salute” blasting out of the speakers. On “lace up your boots”, she points to her trademark Doc Martens and screams. Seventy-five thousand people echo her yell and salute in time to the music. Somewhere in the crowd, a mariachi band play a James Bond riff and more pyrotechnics go off. Little Mix release follow-up single “LET’S GO PAIGE” immediately after the match and go quadruple-platinum. Also, Bull Nakano gets inducted into the WWE Hall of Fame and wears all the outfits. BELIEVE!
[8]