Things have changed, haven't they? The pop-music chart is full of commercial shill recordings, the culture is fascinated with celebrity, and artistry be damned. What's happened to the good old days of, oh say--fifty years ago? There's much to be said of the demise of the greatest generation and of the American values that have since sunk into the slime that is today's degenerate culture, but let's stick strictly to pop music, just for the sake of brevity.
Right now, according to Billboard, the number one song in America is "Just Dance" by Lady Gaga & Colby O'Donis, and lyrically it's not much different than "The Stroll" by The Diamonds...from fifty years ago (where it charted as high as #4). The number two song in the land is a song about women asserting their independence: "Single Ladies" by Beyonce, the former lead singer of what was (at the time of her departure) the biggest-selling group (boy or girl) in the nation. Forty years ago, Diana Ross started separating from the Supremes (with an official name change from The Supremes to Diana Ross and The Supremes) with the #1 single "Love Child," a song about a woman whose independence is strangled by society's mores. Want more lyrical similarities? I know you do.
#3 song today: "Heartless" by superstar producer Kanye West. Fifty years ago, Phil Spector began his road to superstar producer by writing, co-singing, and producing the #1 song "To Know Him Is to Love Him" by the Teddy Bears.
#4 song today: "Live Your Life" by T.I. and Rihanna. Forty-one years ago, Otis Redding teamed with Carla Thomas to sing a much more lyrically-subversive song: "Tramp" (reached #24 on the pop charts and #2 on the R&B charts).
#5 song today: "Love Story" by country singer Taylor Swift, the only country song in the top ten. Forty years ago, Jeannie C. Riley had the only top-ten country song (and it went to #1) in the pop charts: "Harper Valley P.T.A." Both songs are narrative in lyrical structure, but Riley's is much more salacious.
I could go on and on, but my point is that lyrically, pop songs aren't much different than they were during the "golden" era of yesteryear. Though musicians can use words now that were verboten forty/fifty years ago, the lyrics' meanings and intentions haven't changed a whit; artists are just less subtle now...but contemporary audiences aren't as square, either.
There have always been popular (meaning top ten on the pop charts) songs about gangstas and murder ("Tom Dooly" by The Kingston Trio, #1 in 1958; "Stagger Lee" by Lloyd Price, #1 in '59), prostitution/pimping/ho'ing ("Kansas City" by Wilbert Harrison, #1 in '59), marijuana ("Smoke Gets in Your Eyes" by The Platters, #1 in 1959), the glorification of alcohol ("Tequila" by The Champs, #1 in 1958), paganism/cults/devil worship ("The Witch Doctor" by David [The Chipmunks] Seville, #1 in 1958), teenage rebellion/rejection of parental teaching ("Yakety Yak" by The Coasters, #1 in 1958; "Get a Job" by The Silhouettes, #1 in 1958; and a whole slew of others); masturbation ("All I Have to Do Is Dream" by The Everly Brothers, #1 in 1958), homosexual come-ons ("Jailhouse Rock" by Elvis Presley, #1 in 1957), and--worst of all--frank, outright, sexual invitation: the booty call ("Come Softly to Me" by The Fleetwoods, #1 in 1959). You think the parents and corporate heads and radio-station owners knew what these songs were really about? I didn't think so.
However, much of the fuss about popular music today isn't so much the sex or the debauchery (though those two are still sticking points) as much as it is about celebrating celebrity. Some music critics--or, rather, I should say some critics of music get upset when they hear that Miley Cyrus or The Jonas Brothers have best-selling albums and concerts, as the popular consensus among those (men) of my generation (and subsequent ones as well) who grew up admiring Guns N' Roses, R.E.M., U2, or other similar mainstream rock bands is that Cyrus and Bros. Jonas have no credentials, that they made the charts by coasting (and cashing) in on their celebrity. And in one facet, my friends are (probably) right: some of the celebrity pop artists--meaning those who were celebrities/actors before they became professional musicians--did indeed use their fame to launch musical careers.
But my point is: so what? Does it really matter how they were able to get a record deal? It shouldn't. I know that, in some parallel universe, were I to ever gain enough acting fame that I was able to land a recording contract, I'd do so in heartbeat--in 2/4 time--fortissmo! Making a living as a start-up rock/pop/folk/country musician is difficult; making a continuous good living doing so is...rare. Much involves luck, and much involves duplicitous (and some illegal) activity. Any way an artist can find to play his/her music to whatever audience (especially a paying one) he/she desires is the right way. Selling out? Please. It's just selling. No difference between, let's say, Metallica and Miranda Cosgrove when it comes to artistic intent (ability talent is another matter, and no, I don't mean that as a slam on Cosgrove, either). They both want to make music the way they hear it in their heads, and they both have songs to sing, and they both think they're talented enough that others would pay to hear them make their music. And they're both right. We're all consumers of music, anyway, right? So, shouldn't the charges of selling out and consumerism be summarily dismissed? Yup.
What should matter is the quality of the music, not whether we heard it on a commercial or in a coffee house. Sure, there have been some awful celebrity musicians (Lindsay Lohan, Ashlee Simpson, Bruce Willis, Frankie Avalon, etc...) and there have been some great ones, too (Ricky Nelson, Miley Cyrus, and...oh my...I think that's about it). Okay, so there have been only a couple of great ones, still though, Paris Hilton is not a bad singer just because she's Paris Hilton: she's a bad singer because she's a bad singer. On the other hand, star quality does not equate with a lack of singing talent, and neither does a pretty face or an attractive body, and neither does outrageous (and stupid) public behavior.
Which brings us (finally) to the singer of the current song on our countdown: Britney Spears. Has she made a fool of herself in public? Yes. Does she appear to be an irresponsible parent? Yes. Does she appear to be an ingrateful child? Yes. Immature? Yes. Bad public hair day? Yes. Drunk? Yes. Poor fashion choices? Yes. Made poor relationship choices? Yes. Some poor career choices? Yes. Overweight at times? Yes.
Okay. Look over those questions again, and ask them of yourself, and see what your answers are. I certainly don't want to divulge mine. Maybe that's it, though. Maybe we see Britney (or any other celebrity) as big-screen versions of ourselves. Maybe we condemn her public behavior because she's famous, not because she's white trash (and she's not; at least, I don't think so). Think of all the scandalous and unbecoming and obscene ways we or our friends have acted in front of others in our lifetimes. What do we do when it's someone we know? We tsk tsk, we talk, and we forgive (and ofttimes forget). When it's ourselves? We realize we've erred, we realize we're only human, we apologize, and move on. We may stumble a time or two more, but we grow older, and we mature, and we stop acting out. We then start belittling those who do just as we did. And we can't wait for them to do it some more, 'cause we're never more cocky or confident than we are when we can sneer at the boorish behavior of others because we're behaving better than they are right now. We look so much better in comparison.
I believe this snobbery is part of the reason (and it's a big part, though jealosy and envy and equating pop music to drivel all play their parts as well) as to why Britney is hated by so many people (including many of my peers). So, for the sake of this one song here--"Piece of Me"--let's put aside our petty prejudices, shall we? Let's take a look (and listen) to the music without worrying about the status of the musician.
The music's a swarthy little piece of electrofunk minimalism. It lathers itself in sythesized sweat , and it hums instead of pops (unlike Spears's early hits). It's sultry dance music for the Blade Runner set: if androids dreamt of electric sex instead of electric sheep, then this would be its sinuous soundtrack. That erotic-robitic element extends to Spears's vocals as well. They're autotuned (which is all the rage these days), filtered through an audio/computer device that distorts and fragments, and its effect is not to mask (as many have said) the lack of singing ability, but instead to match the mood of the music, and here it works well, as Spears deliberately undersings, coming across like a femme fatale in a sleazy cybernoir film. It's effective, as not only is Spears's voice sensuous, it's also removed and distant. This aloofness underscores the wit of the lyric, which is about...
Britney's celebrity life. And the people fascinated with it. And she's almost turned on by it--'cause she knows we are. The way she sings the title cements that bit of knowledge, turning a cliche into a double entendre of sexual mores, wish fulfillment, punishment, and vicarious living. In doing so, she one-ups Michael Jackson, whose wonderful tune in "Leave Me Alone" is undercut by the hypocrisy of the lyric. In "Piece of Me," Spears doesn't accuse nor does she apologize; no, she just casts her non-judgmental eye upon herself and upon those who would seek to condemn her, and she asks, now that everything is out in the open,
Now my charms are all o'erthrown,
And what strength I have's mine own,
Which is most faint. Now, 'tis true,
I must be here confined by you,
Or sent to Naples. Let me not,
Since I have my dukedom got
And pardoned the deceiver, dwell
In this bare island by your spell,
But release me from my bands
With the help of your good hands.
Gentle breath of yours my sails
Must fill, or else my project fails,
Which was to please. Now I want
Spirits to enforce, art to enchant,
And my ending is despair,
Unless I be relieved by prayer,
Which pierces so that it assaults
Mercy itself and frees all faults.
As you from crimes would pardoned be,
Let your indulgence set me free.
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