Total Film

It's not quite "Before Sunrise" with mud and portaloos then, but warm vibes, buzzy crowd scenes and the two leads' enthusiasm will pull you through to the morning after.

Variety by Leslie Felperin

Picture may not be Scots helmer David Mackenzie's best effort, but it's easily his most lighthearted, a cheery trifle that reps a contrast to his recent pictures, the apocalyptic "Perfect Sense" and U.S.-set comic misfire "Spread."

The A.V. Club

Musicians, according to Tonight You're Mine, are a callous, narcissistic lot - fortunately, the music they make gets a pass.

Village Voice

The authenticity baked into the production doesn't redeem the absurdly improbable premise, the attractive actors don't do anything to make the caricatures they're playing feel real, and the aggressive hipness of the film is queasily dated - it's the cinematic equivalent of the clearance corner at Urban Outfitters.

Empire

The pair muster some chemistry but it's the big musical moments - including a gusto-packed Soft Cell riff - that impress most. Sadly, the pair's romance is predictable and the plot unfolds with all the freshness of a two day old fish supper.

New York Daily News by Elizabeth Weitzman

It's hard to imagine this was his intent, but David Mackenzie's minor romp manages to make being a rock star look like a distinctly unglamorous affair.

Time Out by Joshua Rothkopf

You can go to one of those sweaty, immersive outdoor music fests and get splattered with the mud and euphoria that always engulfs fans. Or you can cheap out and see this predictable rom-com-shot at the 2010 edition of Scotland's then-in-progress T in the Park­-and boggle at finding strangers in the audience more appealing than our main characters.

The Hollywood Reporter by John DeFore

Director David Mackenzie's film about two rival band members handcuffed to each other takes too long to find its footing.

Slant Magazine

The film's narrative conceit is so rigidly formulaic and lethargically spun that even the looseness and spontaneity that the setting affords feels dull and constricting.

The Guardian by Peter Bradshaw

A jaw-droppingly self-indulgent, shallow, smug if mercifully brief feature with a plot that looks like the outline for a pop video.