Confessions of a popaholic (not literally)

If one were to ask me to discuss the state of female representation in pop music, I'd probably ask them to cease and desist. 

I'm not going to lie, it's a little disheartening. The suggestive lyrics, the barely-there clothing, the excessive gyrating, the objectification, the Pussy Cat Dolls. It's all a bit overwhelming.

And then I hear something of popular culture that doesn't encourage a backward gender relationship, and I kind of like it. Maybe that sound is Pink, maybe it isn't..Inevitably it is, but let's not judge.

Pink's latest song from her album Funhouse is satisfyingly different. Sober takes the form of a ballad; and no, it's nothing akin to Dear Mr. President, which I for one appreciate. The song depicts the singer's apparent struggle to find her sober self.

"I'm safe up high, nothing can touch me...I'm looking for myself sober"

Sober is a different approach for Pink. While her previous singles tend to juxtaposition an issue with the pop of a catchy melody, this one does not. It's quite raw, there's a lot of angst , and it's suitably grungy.

This song challenges the feminisation of drinking. In a world that glorifies alcoholism and its inherent female involvement, it's refreshing to hear a message that contradicts the majority. More than likely it was cleverly produced purely to oppose a mainstream ideology, as is always the way with Pink (Stupid Girls, Dear Mr. President, So What). Splash in an element of lesbianism in the video between Pink and a twin, and you've got yourself the lavish money-maker that is 'controversy'. I'm appreciative of it nonetheless. I'd much rather the next generation of young women listen to anti-alcoholistic music than IFYOULIKEITTHENYOUSHOULDHAVEPUTARINGONIT, but that's another story. 

Certainly, Sober is a far cry from the days of Misundaztood (not joking, that was the name of the album), but it's still Pink. Unless you're a 12-year-old girl slash a severely uncultured 'punk rock fan', you're not going to listen to Funhouse. However, considering the dire ways of her fellow female pop princesses, Pink seems to offer that little bit of sugary sweet relief.

And so I surrender to the grey side...

Call me crazy and maybe shun me until my taste returns, but I’m not hating Peter Bjorn and John’s ‘Lay it Down’. It might have something to do with the fact that I’m sitting on my couch in mismatched knee high socks and a tartan mini, and I expect the hangover is adding to the decision. But there’s something about this song that’s really getting to me.

Maybe it’s the fuzziness of the bass that’s calling to my hung-over and TV melted brain, certainly it’s got me reminiscing my high school days, the badly tuned speakers blasting out static music as we drive around pitch black street on a Wednesday night. It kind of makes your eyes go out of focus if you listen to it too closely, like the fuzz has actually entered your brain and switched all the wires, but in a good way.

Then there are the vocals, what’s not to love about the minimalistic approach to harmony, sung by a guy who sounds like he’s suffering from his own hang-over, or maybe just can’t be fucked getting into it. You know, when you’re slouched on the couch finishing up watching an all day Simpson’s marathon and it’s like, well I could get off my ass, go outside and salvage some of today, or I could watch the next show that comes on. What’s that? Tune in for three episodes of King of the Hill? Sure why not.

And that’s all the better when it comes to the lyrics, because if the band had actually any desire to put a lot of effort into the whole song, it could have turned out very in your face, but they’re slackers so its cool. I have to admit the first four lines of the song got stuck in my head pretty quick, not surprising since they’re basically the entire song, but I wasn’t angry, I was singing along. “Hey, shut the fuck up boy, you are starting to piss me off, take your hands off that girl, you’ve already had enough.”

And that’s what I think is so cool about this song, it’s actually impossible to get worked up about it in any way. You’re not jumping for joy every time it plays, but you’re not ranting either. Because it’s basically the musical equivalent of a Sunday afternoon. There’s no energy, no effort and no caring either way. Sure we could have made it all crisp, and the vocalist could have got off his ass and maybe drank a few V’s prior, but why bother? This song is the ultimate boredom song, designed to feed off your apathy as you recover from a night out binge drinking; not that we’re supposed to do that anymore.

IMAGE COURTESY OF http://iweenie.files.wordpress.com/2007/04/596838369_l2.jpg

Australian Idle

At a book function last night, I listened to an ex-Australian Idol auditioner sing three songs about his joys of being a librarian and his guilty obsessions with Harry Potter and Twilight. All I could think was, I'm never going to get these 15 minutes back. What is it with this show anyway? It's like a pulsing tumor on the side of the music industry. The contestants don't leave with any dignity. Their 'fame' is enveloped by a thick layer of shame.

Let's put our faith in Wikipedia for a second so I can illustrate my point:
Idol - "a man-made object that is venerated in some way."
Idle - "an engine of an automobile may be described as idle when it is running only to sustain its running (not doing any useful work)."

I don't get how Channel 10 can keep this show running. As far as I can tell it's merely a matter of Shannon Noll and the Magical Shrinking Fan-base. So why does it still infect our television screens and public billboards? The show isn't providing anything helpful to society. It isn't serving any necessary purpose other than to make us wonder what happened to the world - not from a philosophical 'what is life?' perspective, but from more of a 'what is life trying to do to me???' angle.

I really hope that it doesn't come back to haunt me for its millionth season; I don't think the Australian public should have to endure anymore of this mind-numbing series of open-mic nights.

Seriously.

The thing about apples is...

They've long been the symbol of temptation.

Snow White and Eve - they were dim bitches who failed to see past the shiny allure of the fruit. If I may indulge in the metaphor, apples are kind of like the bad music people find themselves wrongly compelled to experience. They are wax-polished by large institutions and supplied to the masses in neatly-packed rows. They're easy to find and fairly inexpensive. We can safely declare them a mainstream fruit.

I'm here to be the writhing, malevolent worm lurking within that fruit.

I'm the sneaky grub on the inside, analyzing the shit out of everything.

The truth is, whether they're going to poison you, get you banished, or supply you with a shitty computer system, apples cannot be trusted.

As you can probably tell, mainstream music is not something I find favourable. It's anti-music and pro-image. I eat the innards out of those dreaded Top-40 countdowns. So think the next time you take that tentative bite out of shiny red delicious, because I just might be waiting in the center with an evil grin on my face.

The day they stole your mind

Apple is truly the devil, and they don’t even try to hide it. I mean they basically shoved it in your face. Hey, let’s call our latest attempt to be cool after a fruit.

Should we be Pineapple? No, too thorny.

Strawberry? Nah, too gay.

I know!! We’ll call it Apple!

Because those who don’t instantly associate us with images of teachers will of course be reminded of what caused the downfall of mankind, the apple that Eve ate. Well, at least they aimed high. And on the plus side, so far they’ve succeeded in their evil plan to take over and eventually destroy the world.

After creating a cult following for their ever updated range of mp3 players, they began sucking the world’s supply of music into the vortex named iTunes, and now? They’re stealing your soul using a armoury of addictive, and generally speaking, unknown songs. Now, I probably should mention at this point that I am spineless, and do actually have an iPod which is currently filled with songs I discovered through Apples TV ads.

And that’s why I hate them.

Because now I just have to think about the ad above and I get Asteroid Galaxy Tour’s ‘Around the Bend’ sending me… Well, around the bend actually. There’s something about this collection of addictively happy melodies, and a rocking drumbeat that has me waking up with the song repeating itself over…and over….and over again.

So because I believe that the best way to deal with pain is to spread it, I’ve taken the liberty of placing this mind enslaving song, advert and all, above. So enjoy what will be the last moments of peace and quiet your brain will ever have. Who says you need sanity when you can have music?

SOUND THE DOORS! LOCK THE ALARMS!!

Close your eyes and kiss your motherfucking ass goodbye! It’s a virus…. It’s a Trojan… no, it’s a new blogger! Yes, that’s right folks some dropkick hacker has stolen Daniel’s password and is taking over his blog!

But don’t fortify your firewalls just yet, I mean no harm. Well, that’s unless I don’t like your taste in music; in which case be afraid, be VERY afraid. So, before I start my ranting we should probably get a few things out of the way.

Firstly, I am opinionated.

Some may call me a bitch, and some just accept the fact that I’m the best and call me master. I don’t care what you call me, as long as you know who I am. And yes, I do realise I came very close to quoting a Fall Out Boy song. Deal with it. Next, I want you to hate me. I want you to loath me, and I want you to tell me. Why? Because it turns me on. I don’t care if you tell me I suck every day for a year, I live for that little box that tells me I have a comment, and the more comments I get, the better I look.

Finally, I have a very set list of likes and dislikes when it comes to music. I like a good baseline, I like a drumbeat I can dance to, and I like lyrics that don’t sound like they were written by a love-sick 12 year old. I hate Rap, I HATE R’n’B and I dislike most mainstream music. I don’t care if Madonna gets crowned Queen of fucking England, she’s loved by the same people who thought the Crazy Frog was awesome, and therefore she’s scum.

In fact, she’s worse than scum, she’s the bacteria that feeds on scum.

So, now that we’ve done the introductions, be prepared to be re-educated.

Why? Because your music taste sucks.