By: Gordon Lamb
OK. This is me crying
“Uncle.” I finally decided to
engage modern pop music at large in a dedicated way. After spending years
ensconced in the underground, relatively speaking of course, I've accepted the
fact that that's the cultural equivalent of staring at one's shoes. So what's
my motivation? Well, over the past several months someone very dear to me has
occasionally played me songs and I've said, “Wow, I never heard that before!”
and, nearly invariably, they responded, “You don't know this song?” The
internal result is a slightly sinking feeling that, pal, you're just not with it. It's the first time I can ever recall where
I've experienced the feeling that everyone complains about when a record clerk
looks down his nose at those Zeppelin records you want to unload. You
don't know this song? Hold on. I'm about
to.
So I started using
Spotify.
Yes, I know all the stories about how no one makes any money
off of it, and how it's woefully unscalable and all that. But short of keeping
my car radio pegged to some Clear Channel outlet that insists on broadcasting
the exact same ten songs over and over it's gonna be Spotify. But it's not
enough, really, to say that I'll listen. I want you to know I really have. To
this end, if I can keep up the dizzying pace, I'll be running through
Spotify's Top Ten tracks streamed in the US on a semi-regular basis and, you
know, putting my thumbprint on 'em. Give me some room, though, because I know a
lot of this is gonna be old news for some of you. You've heard all these songs
billions of times. But you've not yet heard what I think of them which is as appropriately out of touch a thing to
say as I can muster right now so let's get on with it.
Spotify's Top Ten US Tracks for week ending August 18,
2013
Utterly
catchy and memorable and, yes, THE SMASH of the summer. Hell, I sing along,
too, when I hear it. But let's get some things straight: It's been a long time
since anything this mild created so much controversy. Hell, I can show you
vodka ads that are worse than this. And, sorry Estate of Marvin Gaye, this
really doesn't sound like “Got To Give It Up.” I'll concede it recalls that
song but that's where the comparison ends. On another note, doesn't anyone
really believe Robin Thicke? He's a 36 year old married man who's been with the
same woman for the past 20 years. This is not the man who's gonna take a
good girl and do...anything. (Side note: the uncensored video for “Blurred
Lines” is boring. Don't even bother. The most entertaining part is the silver
balloon words and the joke is so obviously dumb [read: really dumb. Bordering
on frat-boyish but remaining at snickering middle school level] that picking on
it further is just piling on.
I never “got” Jay Z. Literally the only thing good about this is Justin
Timberlake doing his Frank Ocean best throughout it. When the “Hova” gets in
there it becomes this ridiculous rant about how fame is hard and he can't stand
“psycho bitches” and paparazzi and BLAH BLAH BLAH. Whatever, tough guy.
#OccupyAllStreets, amirrite? Worst Nirvana rip off imaginable, too. Oh, sorry,
“interpolation.” Whatever. Nevermind.
Oh, cripes this is the worst. Remember that band
Rednex that had a hit with their dance version of “Cotton Eyed Joe?" This is
that only slower and with zero humor. If vocalist Aloe Black is supposed to be
a soul singer why does he sound so much like one of Mumford's sons?
Yes, you can. But you won't. Nice job
making the “party” sound like a
thing to be endured. Oh, yeah, anytime somebody says something like “Remember
only God can judge ya” its got the same level of convincing oomph as people on
Jerry Springer who are all like “YOU DON'T PAY MY BILLS!”
Finally a song I can actually listen to, actually
enjoy, and don't mind at all when it comes back around. A lot of the sounds are
filtered through years and years of musical extrapolation and reinterpretation
but damn if I don't hear bits of Killing Joke and Synchronicity-era
Police in this.
What the hell is this? I can't decide if I'm
supposed to feel sorry for her because she only has a
Cadillac in her mind or if I'm supposed to thank her
because, if her lyrics are to be believed, I'll never have to hear this whining
in VIP when I'm hangin' with Hova and Miley.
Nice horns. Too bad it
took over three minutes to get to them and the song was over at four.
Catchy and sweet in it's own special way. Similar to
The Postal Service but who cares, right? And if you weren't there, don't be
fooled: The 1980's didn't sound like this. At all. EXCEPT for that one part at
around 1:30 into it where the music melts into itself and sounds like a
smooooooth R&B breakdown. OK, yes. The '80s did sound like that. Except
when it sounded like Huey Lewis & The News and John Cafferty & The
Beaver Brown Band.
Don't mind this at all. If you're gonna ape Michael
Jackson this is the only way to do it. But that's also a little reductive
because this sounds a whole lot more like Earth, Wind & Fire than Mr. Man
In The Mirror.
I am Katy, hear me roar. I can't even believe I
started this whole piece on Robin Thicke's supposed ripping of Marvin Gaye when
Katy here manages to steal from Helen Reddy, albeit granted to no real effect.
But she also steals from Survivor. Who does that? What is going
on here? Who are you people?
Until next time. I remain...
