Do your homework, Tink, and come back to us for a higher grade.
[Video][Website]
[5.71]
Anthony Easton: The last minute of this is like being blasted off into space, and there are a few excellent lines and a wonderful chorus. Almost makes up for the rest of the track.
[6]
Jonathan Bogart: The heavy bass hits make for a nice contrast to her flippant, wiry taunts and dismissals, all very schoolyard in the best sense. She just about has the presence to pull off the tension; in a few more years, she may well be terrifying in her proficiency.
[7]
Alfred Soto: She goes ham only in the last minute, letting fly a series of rapidfire lines that are okay on their own but register as above average playground chatter.
[5]
Erick Bieritz: Young artists can display poise beyond their years, sometimes because they just don’t know any better. Teenagers who barely even remember the 1990s will hardly be restrained by a local hip-hop history that perpetually lagged behind the coasts and the south. Tink, at 17 years old and still in high school (favorite subject: English), maybe doesn’t even know or care that there’s little Chicago precedent for her to sound as confident as she does. And if that’s the case, ignorance sounds like bliss.
[8]
Will Adams: The disclaimer at the beginning of the video – “We’re just having fun doing what we love to do.” – tells me that Tink is aware of the absurdity of citing her constant flipping the bird as the main example of her badassness. Luckily for her, she’s got plenty of skill to make up for a lack of fully-formed persona. The acapella break, where she dives into a pile of triplets, is particularly impressive.
[7]
Edward Okulicz: Maybe I’m immune to being teased or taunted by the young and precocious, but Tink’s wordplay doesn’t live up to her outsize personality. The sounds are great, and while it may boast a fine chorus, “Fingers Up” isn’t quite the song to break her or present her gifts as irresistible and undeniable — she’s an impressive work in progress but a work in progress nonetheless.
[5]
Mallory O’Donnell: Position me firmly within the camp of those who “give a damn.” Though I won’t be when this song fulfills its ultimate destiny as the anthem of that dude I’m gonna watch pass out in a pile of his own vomit three weeks from now.
[2]