![sam smith in the lonely hour review sam smith in the lonely hour review](https://i2.wp.com/culturehash.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/07/Adele-21.jpg)
“Stay With Me” has done a fine job of appeasing most of the music press, and for good reason: the boy with the golden voice bares himself to the cutting judgment of listeners internationally, whimpering pathetically (emphasis on the pathos here - this is not meant to be a criticism) about how f ucked up he is in needing more love than what’s contained in the transitory one-night-stand he’s just had before dropping into one of the most gorgeous choruses this side of Justin Timberlake. To preemptively counteract any critical accusations that the utter hollowness of such a move clearly demonstrates the music industry big guns are interested in profit over good music and are paving a path to their own destruction and yadda yadda yadda, the minor gods in control of the radio (and therefore America’s general musical taste) have decided to drop a Sam Smith song into the fray.
![sam smith in the lonely hour review sam smith in the lonely hour review](https://i.ebayimg.com/images/g/JVIAAOSwkGtgGZD0/s-l1600.jpg)
You’ve still got the aftereffects of the trap boom, obviously (Jason Derulo’s nonsensical “Talk Dirty to Me” and the memetically-omnipresent “Turn Down for What” stand out), but also very present are the simplistic pop-reggae of “Rude,” seemingly straight out of the late ‘90s, the classically Latin-pop-guitar-driven “Am I Wrong,” and the the-’80s-called-and-they-want-Lionel-Richie-back ballad “All of Me” leading the way for the resurgence of ostensibly analog, instrument-driven music in the charts. The fact that we’re now considering MJ and Prince “classics” notwithstanding, the song’s popularity is a pretty good indicator that the Billboard charts have shifted violently away from Pitbull-addled EDM. The most obvious (and cringe-worthy) example is MKTO’s “Classic,” bearing the flag of pop’s “return to roots” with the subtlety of a sledgehammer and a proclivity towards slickly-produced arena-fillers worshipping at the feet of Adam Levine circa Hands All Over. Review Summary: This ain't love, it's clear to see.įor those of you who don’t listen to the radio on a regular basis (and judging by the abundance of metalheads on Sputnik, it’s likely that most of you don’t), the top 40 has started moving back in the direction of a rose-tinted affirmation that the past had some darn good music.