“Though I’m not the first king of controversy
I am the worst thing since Elvis Presley
To do black music so selfishly
And use it to get myself wealthy”
So sang Eminem what seems like a cultural lifetime ago, but in fact was only eight years. Well Marshall, I think it may be time to relinquish your crown; there’s a new prince in town ready to coronate himself. Arise, Justin Beiber.
The rest of this piece requires that you have heard/ seen the video for the song ‘One Time’ by Beiber – so have a quick watch it at the bottom of the article. Ok, watched it? Yeah – I think you can tell where I’m going to go with this – it’s not going to be a glowing review. Actually, if you haven’t yet watched it, don’t waste four precious minutes of your life. All you need to see are the following moments:
- 13seconds – Beiber receives a call from his ‘buddy’ Usher – a shameless product placement of the i-phone ensues. Usher asks Beiber to watch his house (I think) whilst he is away (do I need to mention here that Beiber is 15 years old? He is.)
- 44seconds – Beiber holds aloft his index finger to the camera. The camera focuses in on the finger and holds the shot for what seems an inordinate amount of time. He repeats this gesture ad infinitum throughout the song.
- 1.13 – arguably the most insipid chorus ever produced unfurls its instantly forgettable self for the first time, accompanied by more finger pointing and a bizarre series of convulsion-like jigs from Beiber (who seems, at this point, incapable of not touching some part of his clothing).
- 1.51 – Beiber says the word ‘shawty’. He says the word ‘shawty’. He is a 15 year old, white boy and he says the word ‘shawty’. He is talking to a girl (in the world of the video at least) that is demonstrably taller than he is. He says the word ‘shawty’. Read the rest of this entry »
Like many people, I suppose, I admit to getting a little swept away with the ‘new-broom-sweeps-clean’ rhetoric that has surrounded the recent change of decade. We all bashed the hell out of the noughties, despaired at its frivolity and then moved on, wide eyed, to face the future. However, a typically untimely Spotify advert[1] for the song (and album) in question here, served as a healthy reminder to me that the brave new world we all hoped had descended upon us may, in some cultural quarters, may be a little delayed.
This song – TiK ToK by Kesha – came out some six months ago but, being a cultural hermit, I’ve only recently heard it with the promotion for her recent album. I can confidently say that this song contains some of the most odious lyrics ever written – lyrics that conjure up some sort of dreadful hangover of the worst dregs of the previous decade – the non-stop partying, the celebration of celebrity, of ‘not taking things too seriously’ (least of all one’s self). In a strange and horrific way, it almost feels like a pastiche – or worse, a homage – to the party girl (Paris Hilton et al[2]) ethos. Jesus, has post-modernity caught up with itself to the point where the ‘current’ from only a few years ago is now the subject matter of loving nostalgia?! One hopes that, in fact, Kesha’s song is actually a hopeless hangover – a relic before it has even outlived its own lifespan. One hopes.
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Dear Grant,
Such a funny thing for me to try to explain …
I can remember coming back from our half-year in Russia and hearing ‘Crazy in Love’ on Radio 1 for the first time. I couldn’t believe it. This tune felt like the one we’d all been waiting for, a tune that sounded totally of the moment, yet suggestive of the future: danceable, yearning, innovative. It seemed like a song that had stepped straight out of pop mythology, a vindication of the belief that magic can be unearthed in the unlikeliest of musical places. I listened to it over and over again throughout the summer, and for the next couple of years. At terrible, terrible club nights during my university years, just one play of this tune would be enough to salvage the entire evening. In poetic terms, I thought (and still think) that if ‘Crazy in Love’ were a physical substance, it would be liquid gold. It was the last CD single I ever bought.
I know our Tunes of the Decade list isn’t in any particular order, so ‘Crazy in Love’ isn’t technically our number one tune of the decade. I know you think Amerie’s ‘One Thing’ is the better tune, and you might have a point.
But for me, this has got to be the last tune on the countdown, the final word on our cack-handed, seven-month-long attempt at micro-macrocosmic cultural summary.
A conclusion then, of sorts.
The Tunes of the Decade countdown, and the website as a whole, has been terrifically important for me, and I really hope it has been for you too. This year hasn’t been a walk in the park for either of us, but when all is said and done (and at the risk of sounding like a sentimental gobshite), Read the rest of this entry »
Sometimes it feels like Richard D James saw the shit that was coming this decade, stuck two fingers up at it, and then buggered off to do the things he actually cared about. He returned to his analog love with the hugely underrated Analord series of wonky acid vinyl released as AFX, and if you believe the rumour, the continuation of this sound that is the output of The Tuss (not to mention Rephlex of course). Half truths, grand in face statements, warped humour and self mythology was always a huge part of what made Richard James a major figure in popular culture, which in the nineties he really was (just think back to the ubiquity of the Windowlicker video or Come to Daddy hitting the top twenty), but this decade saw his refusal to play the game, and a movement to peripheral figure in popular culture and elder statesmen in the electronica scene. It’s easy to forget that his only release as Aphex in this decade was critically butchered, and universally panned. So what the hell is a piece of music by Richard James doing on this list?
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