Like most every one, I listen to music pretty much all day long. Correction, I listen to the radio pretty much all day long. And because I’m a fan of pretty much anything, the radio is normally tuned to a top 40 station. However, upon rediscovering the poetry that is U2, John Mayer, and newly discovering the words of the Civil Wars, Ray LaMontagne, and Lana Del Rey, I am physically yearning for well-produced (that is to say, not overly-produced), relevant and meaningful music. And I get that pop music is an accumulation of what is popular, but when I hear what is being put out on the airwaves, what “America” thinks is good music, I balk. It’s as if my inner ear shuts down. I hear the music like I hear the traffic outside the door. But I can’t allow myself to listen to it. This isn’t to say that all music put out today is horrendous. There is the occasional song by a pop artist that has meaning and vocalizes tragedies and joys of the human condition. But, on the whole, I feel these exceptions don’t outweigh the drivel. What’s more, I feel the majority of these young artists create music that they have no real, concrete experience in. Their creation is a false maturity or a veil of honesty. There is no truth in the writing. But it is put out there to pander the masses. Par example: “Come and Get It” by Selena Gomez:
When you’re ready come and get it Na na na na
When you’re ready When you’re ready When you’re ready come and get it Na na na na
You ain’t gotta worry, it’s an open invitation I’ll be sittin’ right here, real patient All day, all night, I’ll be waitin’ standby Can’t stop because I love it, hate the way I love you All day all night, maybe I’m addicted for life, no lie.
I’m not too shy to show I love you, I got no regrets. I love you much, too much to hide you, this love ain’t finished yet. This love ain’t finished yet… So baby whenever you’re ready…
When you’re ready come and get it Na na na na
When you’re ready When you’re ready When you’re ready come and get it Na na na na
You got the kind of love that I want, let me get that. And baby once I get it, I’m yours no take backs. I’m gon’ love you for life, I ain’t leaving your side Even if you knock it, ain’t no way to stop it Forever you’re mine, baby I’m addicted, no lie, no lie.
I’m not too shy to show I love you, I got no regrets. So baby whenever you’re ready…
When you’re ready come and get it Na na na na
When you’re ready When you’re ready When you’re ready come and get it Na na na na
This love will be the death of me But I know I’ll die happily I’ll know, I’ll know, I’ll know Because you love me so… yeah!
When you’re ready come and get it Na na na na
When you’re ready When you’re ready When you’re ready come and get it Na na na na
It took three writers, Ester Dean, Mikkel S. Eriksen, and Tor E. Hermansen, to come up with an insipid approach to a girl wanting what she shouldn’t have while trying to appear coquettish. I constantly have this song stuck in my head, not because I like it, but because it’s one of those songs that has been deemed by the public as something to constantly listen to. I remember watching some award show where the singer performed this song and I made the comment that she looks like a little girl trying to fill her mother’s shoes. My mother has this saying: If you have to say you’re mature, you’re probably not. And that was exactly what my feelings towards this performance, this artist and this song were. Selena Gomez is young, and yes, this apparently is the time to be reckless and a tease, but what has happened to modesty? All of these young artists are putting it all out there. Has the obsession with youth and, it’s parallel, sex, gotten so out of hand that the younger one is, the older one has to appear? “I’m here so I have to make people want me. Let me show my skin because that will make you pay attention. Let me swivel my hips because that will make you want me.” Why has this desire to be desirable surpassed the need to be the best version of one’s self? I want to be accepted as much as the next girl, but not at a cost of my self-worth. And that’s what these pop-stars are sacrificing; they’d rather be a commodity than an act of substance. They are smart in catering to the superficial standard of “I can give it to you now” and that is how they make a name for themselves. They have agreed to sacrifice the betterment of not only themselves, but those who look up to them, in order to be seen as shockingly different. To me, this pervasive need to shock and awe actually diminishes any difference. It’s become ubiquitous. The ones that do set themselves apart are refreshingly honest and put their talent up front, not their body. They don’t put it all out there. They have themselves – their thoughts, their writing, their abilities – to recommend them. They act their age, but more than that, they relay their honest experiences and hold themselves accountable for those experiences and seem to be more concerned about the art they’re making than the buck they’re making. I’ll hold off on the pop-porn. Please pass the good taste.
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