Luke Bryan discovers cellphones, with sexy results.
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[5.56]
Crystal Leww: Luke Bryan’s taken so much shit the last couple of years for Bro Country that you’d think he was the third member of Florida Georgia Line. While he’s collaborated with FGL before and generated his own share of Bro Country, Bryan’s made a lot of straight-up ballads. “Home Alone Tonight” has the politics of a high schooler or Justin Bieber on his trio of singles this year: emotionally manipulative, desperately hurt, and yet oh-so-familiar. Both Bryan and Fairchild have sounded better vocally, but they are both so committed to this childish bit of getting drunk, hooking up, and sending their exes ill-advised text messages. They are both each other’s filler for someone else, but not all country songs have to be about heart-wrenching love after all.
[6]
Thomas Inskeep: Oh Luke, you’re a canny one. When I hate your songs I really hate ’em (“Kick the Dust Up,” “That’s My Kind of Night”), but when I love ’em I really love ’em (“I Don’t Want This Night To End,” “Crash My Party,” last single “Strip It Down”); I honestly can’t think of a current artist who provokes such strong up-or-down reactions in me. “Home Alone Tonight” is an ultra-slick single, its sound reminiscent of Shania Twain’s Mutt Lange-produced peak work. It’s about two recently jilted people meeting up in a bar and hitting it off, going “shot for shot for shot” till they forget “what [they] came here to forget,” and then sending smartphone pics to their exes to remind them what they’re missing — and that these two “won’t be goin’ home alone tonight.” Little Big Town’s Karen Fairchild can go toe to toe with Bryan; they’ve both got big, brassy, strong voices, and they pair well. Nothing about this is subtle, but damned if it doesn’t work like a charm.
[8]
Anthony Easton: For how blistering “Girl Crush” was, and how amazing Bryan is at writing about fucking, and for the novelty of knowing how cellphones work, this song is disappointingly damp.
[4]
Jonathan Bogart: I hated this until the first chorus, when I started to wonder if Kesha has been able to sneak some country songwriting in on the side. (Not according to Wikipedia.) Bryan is still a nonentity, and Fairchild is only serviceable, but the dynamics of this thing are sturdy as hell.
[6]
Alfred Soto: I like the idea of a couple having an adult night, drinking while the kids are Grandma’s. Sounding less like the victim of a perpetual head cold, Luke Bryan does what he can with the readymade banalities. I don’t appreciate his outsinging Fairchild though.
[5]
Brad Shoup: Bryan’s a passable enough flirter, less believable in the follow-through. Fairchild steps away from her band’s decadent-rock stylings, matching Bryan cadence for pop/R&B cadence. The two and four clap like gunshots; the engineer must have had a lot of fun mixing the tambourine. The overall mood is charged: they’re really selling when the booze first kicks in. The final plea not to go home alone is gone quicker than a distraction.
[6]
Edward Okulicz: On songs like this, I find Luke Bryan so unrelatable. And unreliable too — if they drink until they forget, neither are going to be texting their ex. And I’m not entirely sure why you bother getting Karen Fairchild in to sing with you in the chorus if you can’t hear her when the hook comes in. The idea behind this song would be better done by, like, Pitbull, or something.
[5]
Josh Langhoff: Two country stars, presumably happily married to other people, go shot for shot for shot and hook up in a bar. This might be the biggest answered prayer in country slashfic since Ashley and Blake did “You Ain’t Dolly.” Karen and Luke even sing in the same range! Unfortunately, that decision doesn’t do Karen’s alto voice any favors during the chorus, where her winning insouciance comes across as failure to project over guitar and drums — especially on the crucial “send it to my ex” line, where she gets swallowed up like I did the one time I attempted Jamey Johnson karaoke. Luke’s tenor has no trouble cutting through, consigning Karen to more of a supporting role than she deserves. Nevertheless, guitars and drums and “throw your camera up” all have enough martial snap to feed a million fantasies, or fantasies of fantasies, whatever fans allow themselves.
[7]
Will Adams: So you meet someone at a bar and agree between the two of you to snap a selfie and send it to your respective exes to let them know you’re getting laid tonight? Adults are just larger children after all. (Also, Luke, I’m not sure if it can count as a duet if you put your partner’s voice way low in the mix.)
[3]