The truth is, even if Max Key weren’t the son of a former New Zealand Prime Minister, he’d still be a weirdly vapid Kid Rock lookalike — with his gawkish nose, like a melted second rate ice sculpture, or nu-hippie headband, like a desperate high school boy covering Foo Fighters at talent night. He’d still be disliked because he’s a rich kid without the merits of other rich kids — say, Julia Louis-Dreyfus, of ‘Veep’ and ‘Seinfeld’ fame. So let’s be clear: I dislike “All the Way” because it’s manifestly terrible and only because it’s terrible. It sounds like your fourteen year old cousin Harold’s first attempts at using fruityloops or Garageband. It sounds like the work of someone who’s familiar with French label Kitsuné but has only ever drunk Coronas. It’s stodgy. It’s dull. It’s unimaginative. If Max Key weren’t Max Key nobody would care — he’d be one among the millions of Soundcloud artists who blend into an indistinguishable whole. C-