Last week this very website ran a piece that was pro ‘Blurred Lines’, which was very controversial and said some things people didn’t agree with, including me. But despite it being morally distorted in my opinion, it did particularly well. It got a lot of views, some of them from me, and some of them from the friends I shared it with so they could also share in my derision. The hits on the article went up all the same, aiding its popularity and ultimately this website’s publicity. Controversy equals interest, interest equals consumption, and consumption equals targets met.
Of course when you want to add an angry comment to that article, or indeed this one, it automatically links to your Facebook, letting all of your friends know that you disagree with some person about some thing. So your outrage works just the same as your approval in terms of generating views. In fact, it may just work even better.
The reason ‘Blurred Lines’ works as a form of media is that it implements the perfect tools to make it viral: controversy and tits. In a society in which 4 minutes is far too long to pay attention to anything, abominations such as Blurred Lines are inevitably going to be born. It seems terribly unfair that I have to compete for your attention over videos such as that with my meager, stupid, boring words.
I know you won’t believe me, but a month ago, I didn’t know who Robin Thicke was. Then Miley Cyrus danced on him at the VMAs. Two months ago, people weren’t talking about Miley Cyrus; heaven forbid a child star might fade away into obscurity, so she embarked on making the biggest dick of herself possible on live TV. And guess what? It went viral! People were talking about Miley again – and conveniently just in time for the release of her new single, which the video for went viral too! Now, Miley is a bona fide A-grade celebrity once more, as is Robin Thicke.
If you don’t believe that Robin Thicke, T.I or Pharrell knew that this song might produce scathing feedback, then you are dead wrong. It is intended to cause offence and it was intended to cause a discussion – hence why ‘#Thicke’ flashes up on screen every 5 fucking seconds. In fact, the way the women dance about with ‘#Thicke’ flashing on screen every 5 fucking seconds is oddly reminiscent of the ‘Join The Navy’ film clip on The Simpsons, yet somehow manages to be more hypnotic.
Thicke claims he isn’t sexist, and that his song and accompanying film clip are a parody of the misogynistic culture of the music industry. Just like if you wanted to parody the kidney trade in Pakistan, you’d do it by stealing people’s kidneys. Let me make it absolutely fucking clear that there is no blurred line between consent and rape. Don’t let a fucking pop song try and convince you otherwise. In fact the only line that’s blurred is the one Robin Thicke crossed when he created this song, because he’s left it so far behind you can hardly make it out in the horizon.
Because the way we listen to music has changed so much over the last ten years, the business model of the music industry has also changed. In order to generate the fuckload of money they demand, they need us to watch the Blurred Lines film clip 180,000,000 times on YouTube. They need us to listen to it 91 million times on Spotify, they need us to complain about it on social media, they need fuckwits like me to write articles about it on youth culture sites. The easiest way of achieving that is by causing a bit of controversy.
I don’t buy that we can’t complain about this song because we haven’t complained about songs like it in the past. The argument ‘but everyone else is doing it’ can be used to justify literally every single atrocity performed by the human race. But eventually one voice says ‘are you fucking insane?’ Then that voice turns into to two, then a whole lot, and eventually we all look back in shame to the period in which we all thought it was fine to write pop songs about rape. If we don’t take issue with it, we may well see Robin Thicke’s next film clip recorded entirely from a GoPro strapped to his knob.
If you don’t want to be a part of something, then don’t be. If you don’t like the misogynistic workings of the music industry, then don’t simply say ‘oh well, that’s just how it is’. Don’t submit to it. If you want equality, you’ve got to give someone a reason to sell it to you. I know that last sentence was grim for you to read but imagine how painful it was for me to write.
Years ago pop songs used sexual undertones to spark interest. ‘Let’s Get Physical’ was a prime example, though Olivia Newton John was singing in a gym, we all know she just wanted to hump someone. Now we have overtones, with lyrics such as ‘You’re the hottest bitch in this place’ with ‘Robin Thicke has a big dick’ written in balloons in the background. Not so subtle.
Suggesting that feminists are simply looking for something to be offended by is not only incredibly condescending on its own, but when suggested in the context of this song/film clip is unfathomably insulting.
I don’t think controversy should replace entertainment, do you?
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