7/10 – A Glitter Bomb in a Beer Can
“APT.” is what happens when Bruno Mars and Rosé wake up in the same mood board and decide to co-write a musical hangover. It’s a song. It’s a vibe. It’s a late-night group text turned into a pop-punk pastel explosion — and I can’t decide whether to dance, scream, or call the building manager.
Let’s talk lyrics.
The chorus chants “Apateu, Apateu” like a toddler discovering consonants. It’s catchy, yes, but so is the flu. The verses flirt with depth—“Don’t you want me like I want you, baby?”—but settle for the emotional range of a birthday card. Bruno’s “It’s whatever (Whatever)” mantra feels less like carefree fun and more like lyrical surrender.
Sound-wise, this thing is a Frankenstein made of bubblegum, eyeliner, and Red Bull. Pop-punk guitars? Check. Electro stabs? Why not. A cheerleader chant borrowing the feel of “Hey Mickey”? Absolutely, let’s rob the ‘80s and call it fashion. Rosé, bless her shredded vocal cords, actually tries to inject pathos into lines like “Don’t you want me like I want you?” but she’s playing violin on a trampoline while Bruno’s busy air-humping nostalgia.
But who is this for? Is this a breakup song? A hookup anthem? A sorority theme song? Or just a glorified drinking game translated into English and Auto-Tuned until it sparkles? The emotional tone is “shrieking into a pillow in six-inch heels.” It wants to be punk. It is very much not punk. It’s pop in cosplay.
Verdict:
This isn’t a duet — it’s a hostage situation where Rosé’s trying to skateboard her way out of a neon-lit basement and Bruno’s too busy moonwalking on nostalgia to notice the exit. You’ll dance to it once. You might even scream it in a club bathroom at 2 a.m. But by next week, you’ll be asking Siri to “skip this cursed glitter bomb.”
Pull Quote:
“It sounds like someone dared a perfume commercial to feel feelings, and it said: This is the best I can do.”
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