From an album called “Temporary Highs”, a song that scores the same…
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[6.14]
Ian Mathers: This is the kind of song that makes one understand how “quiet storm” could sustain a whole radio format; there’s something inviting and even seductive about its pensive, nocturnal, plushly melancholy atmosphere that seems to create its own weather system, one you could imagine wanting to linger in all evening. The mood is so potent that when it ends after just three minutes it’s almost a shock – surely something so imperially devastated extends to a greater length. You can always hit play again, though.
[9]
Oliver Maier: It’s frustrating, because it’s so easy to imagine this being perfect. As is, “Lost You” is just a bit too glossy, too exquisite to really convey desolation. The Weekndish lilt to Snoh’s melodies makes me wish she shared Tesfaye’s knack for projecting fragility, but she sounds disconnected from the lyrics. The funk bass is a little too busy as well, filling in gaps that could’ve been left to speak for themselves.
[6]
Nortey Dowuona: The lumpy drums limp around the swinging bass and listless synths, as Snoh flutters through the mix, surrounded by her echoes, which buoy her soft, pliant voice as the mix struggles to move forward but remains stuck in the mud, then smoothly wriggles its bass under the flattening synths.
[6]
Michael Hong: Aalegra’s voice carries her tracks to the point where her voice becomes the central focus of each song, the lyrics a secondary thought. As much as I’d like to luxuriate in the track, soak up in her rich double-tracked harmonies, the genericness of a line like “I’ll always want you ’cause you take me high” feels less relatable in its simplicity and more lazy in its songwriting.
[4]
Vikram Joseph: Snoh Aandante more like, am I right? A burbling undercurrent of bass lurks indistinctly way down at the bottom of this R’n’B jam, which treads a treacherous tightrope between sensual and soporific. The nocturnal atmosphere is delicately rendered, but “Lost You” just sort of… lingers and then disappears into vapour, leaving little behind other than a sense of vague regret. There’s not enough emotional force behind it to really get a sense of what she’s lost.
[5]
Alfred Soto: It sounds lovely: discrete/discreet bass burbles and other opaque worried sound clouds reminiscent of what KING got away with five years ago. All it needs is vocal plumage.
[6]
Thomas Inskeep: Slinky, aching R&B, gorgeously sung. Little touches such as a tricky little bassline on the chorus, nearly buried in the mix, keep it a step up from much of its ilk.
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