Several months ago, a relative of mine who fits within the baby boomer bracket, when encountering a pilgrimage of Gen Ys flocking to the Big Day out, commented that the young people of today looked “scruffy”. She sounded exactly like her parents complaining about The Beatles and their unruly “mop top” hairdos. Today however I run the risk of sounding like an out of touch has been because I’m about to rant about the calibre of music videos nowadays. The pop industry is feeding us a diet of soft porn and I’m losing my appetite for it.
I’m hardly a prude as anyone who visits this blog regularly should know. I have zero issue with people admiring hawties of the opposite sex. I’d encourage it. It adds colour to life’s rich tapestry. However when you unfurl life’s rich tapestry and look at it from on high you don’t get an image of some bikini clad model draping herself over Snoop Dog. Video clips aren’t meant to be like holding a mirror to our banal lives I guess. But seriously do they have to be a never ending peep show? My main problem is with the monotony of it all. The overwhelming majority of music video clips feature scantily clad women bumping and grinding around an unattractive male. Where the artist is a woman their talent is usually showcased with three minutes of butt wiggling and skimpy outfit changes. I seriously wonder whether a female performer ( Adele and Susan Boyle aside ) can keep her clothes on and still sell records.
I find it incredibly dull. I’d love to see variety and inventiveness. A dash of humor wouldn’t go astray. Secondly its painfully imbalanced – dare I raise the dreaded “m” word – misogynistic? There seems to be an endless supply of infeasibly hawt women falling over each other in order to have group sex with some butt ugly rapper. Pittbull is the poster boy for this type of thing. If you haven’t yet seen the clip for his song “Hotel Room Service” do yourself a favour and avoid it. Aesthetically he is foul. He’s the antithesis of Fass. I hereby declare him the antiFassis. Nevertheless dressed like a pimp, he personifies the mythical Lynx effect if his video clips are anything to go by.
Unfortunately Pittbull represents the tip of the sexist iceberg. There’s not much to even up the score. Where are all the film clips featuring say an AFL team shaking their well toned money makers around a slightly pudgy housewife?
Where do I start with Blurred Lines by Robin Thicke, TI and Pharrel? Its an infectious number which has me bopping along and screaming “woo”. Many have argued that the lyrics encourage rape. There’s certainly a few lines in there referring to a lewd act that is outlawed in many countries. The video clip too as attracted a controversy because it pushes the envelope just that little bit further. It features exceedingly hawt women in flesh coloured under garments (so as to appear nude) – gyrating around a trio of fully clothed rappers. Robin Thicke croons “I know you want it, I know you want it, I know you want it”. In which alternative universe does this make for an effective seduction? It aint working for me in this one. Can you imagine if Mr Darcy pulled the same line on Elizabeth Bennett? I doubt that Pride and Prejudice would be still be viewed as the pinnacle of romance.
” I will have to tell you: you have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love, I love, I love you. I never wish to be parted from you from this day on. Besides I know you want it, I know you want it, I know you want it. Let me be the one you back that ass to”
Similarly imagine if Mark Darcy used this shizz on Bridget Jones.
” But the thing is, um, what I’m trying to say, very inarticulately, is that, um, in fact, perhaps despite appearances, I like you, very much. Just as you are. And um I know you want it, um I know you want it. I know you want it”
It probably would have driven her back into the arms of Daniel Cleaver.
In my opinion the more sexually overt and graphic the pop culture becomes the harder it is to find anything truly sensual or erotic. The video clips are a crude parody of “sexiness” which is as phony as the breasts on many of the babes featured. It leaves me cold.
Are you offended by the pornification of pop music or do you just find it tediously dull? Am I a curmudgeon who sounds as ridiculous as my grandparents moaning about The Beatles?
Meanwhile in the interests of leveling the playing field I hope to get together a group of bloggers to release a new hit single “Smudged Lines”. Mumabulous’ people have already contacted Chris Hemsworth and Henry Cavill’s people and they are both interested in appearing in the film clip. They have not yet been told that their wardrobe will be flesh coloured speedos. The bloggers wardrobe by contrast will be skinny jeans, retro cardigans, ballet flats and big sunglasses. Who wants in?
* Sorry I recruited help from both Professor X and Magneto to blast this hideous image from my mind.