The badness of this track is no fault whatsoever of its singer: Donny’s performance sells the song, and by the end he sounds honestly desperate for his love to be real. The problem is that Osmond sounds too young – he was 15 but his voice here is quavering, barely broken, and against a wretchedly treacly arrangement he is helplessly cast as cute. And we listeners are equally helplessly cast as the disbelieving world who don’t believe in the love, or the record, or any of it. We don’t have to, of course: enough of us have to find it adorable to make it a smash, no more.But its adorability has worn seriously thin.
{democracy:49}
Score: 3
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