The Artist: “It sounds like someone’s cooking mashed potatoes or something, like a really good meal”…
[Video][Website]
[6.43]
Scott Mildenhall: It’s not too much of a stretch of the imagination to compare this with Lulu James’ recent “Sweetest Thing”, but where that put the focus on “what you’ve done for me” and “how you love me“, “Don’t Wait” is an expression of complete mutuality. Mapei needs you as much as she has your back, as vulnerable in the verses as she is resolute in the rap she delivers with an audible smile of assuredness. The whole thing sounds tired and worn in a way that’s warm, as if, at the end of some grand struggle, she’s letting her guard slip, well aware it was all worth it.
[8]
Alfred Soto: Acoustic guitar, Daft Punkified voices, bongos, finger snaps, R&B sass — she assimilates them into a compelling polyglot. That’s enough for now.
[7]
Rebecca A. Gowns: This has all the markings of a gentle piece of indie pop, but the execution is intense: sharp “HEY”s, cold vocoder harmonizing, crisp fingersnaps, all strung along on an icy beat. The overall result is a pummeling pop song, pushing you along — don’t wait til I do wrong, schmuck. You’re my friend til the end, dumdum. It smacks your cheeks, rubs your shoulders brusquely, and tells you to get back on the mat, you’re not finished yet… and you won’t be as long as I’m in your corner.
[8]
Brad Shoup: Did Nick Zammuto produce this? The triggered, dusty guitar and percussion are his hallmarks, but I don’t think he’d render the vocals as such a constant presence. Male backing singers are a thrill whenever they show up in female-fronted tunes (I’m assuming that bgv is a dude and not pitchshifting) but there’s too much of him here. He’s an emergency extinguisher used for a foam party. Alone, Mapei brays a bit, so maybe that’s the reason. And that bouncy bridge is a little too Coke-commercial for me.
[5]
Crystal Leww: Mapei was a 2009 internet darling, but she appears to have abandoned her bizarre, DJ Mehdi (RIP) produced raps. “Don’t Wait” is still bizarre, but it’s mostly confusing because of a contradiction in tone and content. This sounds like a sad song with its echoes and cavernous drumming, but it’s a love song about trust and commitment. Mapei fills the space with promises of forever, and they might just pass by if you’re not paying attention.
[6]
Mallory O’Donnell: Making organic-sounding music from digital parts is a laudable goal, but these particular digital parts have been so thoroughly processed that any naturalness inherent in their genesis is long lost by the time they emerge as elements in song. Even the crackle of vinyl notarizing the sample seems added-on, a vacant nod to the gods of “authenticity.” What could have been an excellent listening experience is reduced to a merely sufficient one, the originality of the artist consumed by studio fakery. Oh, and seriously, please, it’s almost 2014. Can we lose the autotune? It’s like the fanny pack of music, for fuck’s sake.
[5]
Daniel Montesinos-Donaghy: We live in a world where a duet between a cyborg dilettante and a sprightly spaceship-bound girl sounds like the perfectly engineered music for a car commercial. I feel ambivalent — about this pleasantly drawn goofiness, about my reaction to its angular-enough tastefulness, about its propensity for a wider audience, mostly about that cyborg. I always feel for the cyborgs.
[6]