New recurring topic! I'm gonna take chart-topping pop songs we all hate and deconstruct the lyrics. Because, for as much as I avoid all commercial radio, there are certain songs that it's impossible to avoid, and, if I'm going to wake up with those songs stuck in my head, we may as well get intellectual with exactly what messages we're internalizing, whether we asked for it or not.
Honestly, I got the idea from a Maroon 5 song I was shame-singing in the car. Slumming it with music. Because their latest album is catchy as hell. And I hate that. So, I listen privately, and sing along when I know no one will hear me. Anyway -- the first song on the album is this terrible.....love battle anthem, of sorts, where Mr Levine swears up and down that he'll quit this girl. After just one more night. He may hate himself, but damn, her lipstick. That sort of healthy stuff. Just try not to like the song though -- in my mind, it's a parade of angry Victoria's Secret models sparring with skinny, tattooed Lotharios by moonlight.
Got me thinking about the fact that we take completely for granted that pop songs are almost always about L-O-V-E in one way or another, and (since I was recently around a couple of under 10 year-olds who knew every word to Fun's "We Are Young" ode to dysfunction), I realized that we don't actually "think" about what these songs are really saying all of that often. Unless it's a Lana Del Rey song, in which case, you're left going, "wait -- what the heck.....? I don't get it......."
So, let's get all "middle school essay" on this action and dissect the song everyone loves to hate, Billboard's current #1 ear-killer: "Call Me Maybe."
Okay, okay -- first off: that should really be "Call Me, Maybe." Otherwise, it's a very Arrested Development-esque plea for someone to refer to her by the name Maybe. Which, I suspect, is not at all what Carly Rae's aiming for. I suspect she wants a phone call. That's sort of quaint in its own right, right? I mean, if we were being really "up-to-the-minute" it would be, like, "Tweet Me, Maybe." or "Friend Me, maybe" or even the predictable "Text Me, Maybe."
But no. Carly Rae wants Mr Ripped Jeans to actually make her phone ring.
Let's see what else she wants, shall we? Incidentally: this chick looks like me. Which makes me think perhaps bangs again this summer?
Moving along.
"Call Me Maybe"
I threw a wish in the well,
Don't ask me, I'll never tell
I looked to you as it fell,
And now you're in my way
Honestly: that's actually sort of "5th grade cute." Except that Ms Jepsen is 27. And being marketed like she's 17. Gonna be a hard mold to break out of. But, I guess that's the point: grade school kids need a pop hero who's NOT Rihanna.
So, she's chucking quarters in the mall fountain with some sort of secret wish for (presumably) LOVE, and, whaddaya know, looks up and there's the Zumiez employee of the month blocking her path to Sephora. For instance.
Pennies and dimes for a kiss
I wasn't looking for this,
But now you're in my way
Really?
Okay. Let's go with it:
She'd TRADE HER SOUL for whatever she's secretly wishing for. Love? Okay -- so she'd trade her entire soul for love, she'd happily give away kisses for free, BUT: let's be clear -- this dude who's in her way? She wasn't interested in whatever he's selling.
Oh, the contradictions of the 27-going-on-17-year-old's inner yearnings. "I just want love! I'm not looking for love! You're here! Love me!"
Ripped jeans, skin was showin'
Hot night, wind was blowin'
Where you think you're going, baby?
Heh. Wow. That is straight up "Patrick Swayze Fantasy Hour" right there. So, we've tossed some pennies in the fountain, spun around to find some dude staring at us, rockin the ripped jeans while his (dare I say "feathered") hair blows around in the hot, summer wind, right?
Okay, it did just occur to me that this might be a same-sex romance, in which case the ripped jeans and wind blowing and hot night sort of thing becomes a lot more interesting. But -- a quick google search yields startlingly little support for that idea.
So, we're gonna have to work the Metro-Male angle here. She turns around and has "Sergio" blocking her path. Which is pretty perfect. Because she wasn't LOOKING for him, but now she won't let him leave. She's pretty quick on her feet, because instantly the tune becomes:
Hey, I just met you,
And this is crazy,
But here's my number,
So call me, maybe?
The chorus that launched a thousand memes.
HOWEVER, let's give her this: she's assertive. She may not be looking for love, she may be giving away kisses for free, she may like guys with goofy pants, BUT, she takes the helm here, in a sort of non-committal way that both empowers and dis-empowers her in that single, titular phrase.
"Call me" is direct. Admirably direct. She knows it's "crazy" because they just met, BUT: she'd like to chat with him.
And then the "maybe" drops. She gives away her power. Puts it back on him.
Carly Rae, darlin: stick to your guns! Give girls some ammunition in their quest for the right to ask boys out without feeling too forward or silly! Nail the landing!
But nope. There's the grammatically disappointing "Maybe."
It's hard to look right,
At you baby,
But here's my number,
So call me, maybe?
First time I heard this song I was a little thrown by the "It's hard to look right at you, baby" bit. Strangely, I took it in the direction of "he's as beautiful as the sun -- can't look directly in his face.....tooooooooo beautiful......!"
And then my own inner "shy kid" kicked in and I'm having visions of a 17 year-old mall girl staring at her feet and twirling her hair and giggling because she's uncomfortable being assertive enough to make decent, uninterrupted eye contact with Mr Ripped Jeans.
I 100% understand that. I'm the Princess of that. By way of example, introverts sometimes have more difficulty making eye contact with someone when they're the one speaking. When they're listening to someone else speak, they're great at eye contact. It has to do with neuro-pathways and circuits of information retrieval and all sorts of cool brain chemistry stuff -- but, let's imagine that she's a love-struck introvert. All of a sudden: hard to make eye contact.
Actually, Mr Wonderful wondered if I had some kind of eye contact PROBLEM on our first date, because he said I'd "look anywhere but in his eyes." We'd chatted on the phone, but this was our first face-to-face, and I was consumed enough with worrying about being conversational, with my lips healing from a recent attack of fever blisters, with wondering if I was speaking too quickly, all of that. Eye contact took a major nosedive. That was just one thing too many to remind myself to do.
Carly Rae: I feel ya.
And all the other boys,
Try to chase me,
But here's my number,
So call me, maybe?
More incongruousness. Now she's miss "Hot Commodity," and she's letting him know her dance ticket may soon be a sold out show (to mix metaphors a little). So, like, I'm super-cute, and, like, all of these boys wanna totally buy me ice cream and hold my hand and sing me songs, but, like, you should call me, MAYBE.
Ugh. I've never liked that tactic, that sort of "everyone else wants me, you should, too" brand of self-marketing. HOWEVER -- it's in the same passive-aggressive spirit as the whole "Maybe" thing, so she's consistent, at least.....? I guess?
You took your time with the call,
I took no time with the fall
You gave me nothing at all,
But still, you're in my way
This is where I beg womankind everywhere to demand more. She goes out on a limb, he leaves her hanging. Eventually, he calls. And is cagey. And doesn't reciprocate her peppy little love-fest attitude. Nevertheless: she's in looooooooooove. Can't get over him. "Falls" for him.
How 'bout we set a higher standard for ourselves than playing the "sitting by the phone waiting for Mr Big to call" role? It just looks desperate.
I beg, and borrow and steal
Have foresight and it's real
I didn't know I would feel it,
But it's in my way
By this point in the song, I'm starting to worry about little lady a bit. She went from trading her soul in the first verse to begging and stealing, then claiming that she had no idea she was going to feel this way.....I'm getting the idea that she bit off more than she can chew when she stuck her neck out and asked for a call, and now she's just resorting to weird cliches about borrowing and stealing. OR -- it's a throwaway verse because they needed to pad the song for length and tossed in some generic phrasing that doesn't really link into the rest of the story? Let's go with that.
Finally, the closing sucker-punch that will stick in your head until the day Gaga comes out with someone anywhere nearly as catchy as Bad Romance:
Before you came into my life
I missed you so bad
I missed you so bad
And you should know that
So call me, maybe?
So call me, maybe?
Yeah, yeah, yeah. This line betrays it all: I wasn't looking for this, but you're hot and I can't stop thinking about you, and now -- MY LIFE WAS EMPTY BEFORE YOU. The ultimate power sacrifice. Without saying so in as many words, it's a betrayal of her independence or plucky, assertive spirit to fall back on the whole "before we met I knew you were the piece of me that was missing.......MAYBE you should call me, after I've slapped that heaviness on you? No pressure. It's just, you're the missing puzzle piece in my life, I'm empty without you, so, ya know, if you have time, or there's no one cuter out there, or you're bored or whatever....call me, maybe!"
Sigh.
If she were 17 I'd let her get away with this mess, but the girl is nearly 30. The marketing department behind her label had better figure out how they're going to allow her to transition into normal adulthood before they have a perpetual teen-star on their hands who's actually 34. Because that's as uncomfortable as watching Biebs do donuts in a parking lot while showing only the backsides of the video girls in "Girlfriend."
Oh well. Honestly -- one of the cleaner, less-offensive, less objectifying pop songs we've seen at the top of the charts in awhile.
Once Carly Rae's bumped from the top Billboard slot, we'll dissect whatever song succeeds her. Cuz this is fun!
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