Why is my music swearing at me?
I mean, there’s no shortage of people out there who wouldn’t let too much propriety get in the way of directing a fairly robust stream of profanity my way. But this is different. This is supposed to be a respite from the hurly burly. A place where I can go to get away from the whole thing, the grind, the acrimony, the recriminations. You know, Town Council.
Many people fall back on their music. They wake up to their tunes, breakfast, lunch, and dinner with their tunes, take their tunes for a walk, drive everywhere with their tunes.
For most of us, it’s our safe place. Our special spot. A place to go, to indulge in one of the seemingly few pleasures of modern life.
Then GAYLE told me to go f**k myself.
I don’t even know GAYLE. I feel I’ve done nor said anything to disparage this artist, but away she goes making suggestions about potential solo sexual practices. Not sure why, but there we are. I try not to take it personally.
And then Sabrina Carpenter comes along and calls me a m***********r, ostensibly because she thinks I might embarrass her after she just put on her makeup. It’s hard to know what to think.
The Kid LAROI and Justin Beiber are gonna be all f**ked-up if I leave them, which does make me feel pretty important, and I do think they’re exaggerating to a degree, but still, I don’t want to have that effect on anyone. There is some hope here that the two dudes are talking about a girl though, somebody really more important to them, and not me after all. But still, it’s a rather nice song, and the f-bombs are kind of jarring.
There does appear to be a preponderance of gratuitous profanity in music these days, which I suppose is somewhat reflective of society at large, but still.
I’ve been around a long time. I believe I know more fine curse words than most people, and in fact can honestly claim to be quite gifted at the art of bringin’ it. Yet this stuff recently is almost striking me like a slap in the face.
I drove to Ottawa yesterday, so I jumped on a play list of the top pop songs of 2024 to help me get into town in style. Twelve Beats By Dr. Dre speakers worth of solid head-snapping tunes to prove to anyone out there that I’ve not succumbed yet to age, the journey of life, or the effects of Grandfather Time. This boy still has some rock to his roll, and he’s not afraid to air it out.
But blimey, the language. I’d say 60% of the songs on that play list had some variation of the venerable f-word in them.
It kind of makes me just wonder, as in, why?
And sure, I can absolutely accept the argument that music should mirror life, and that language like that is part of life, but still, anyone randomly walking around speaking like that in public is generally regarded as a bit of an outlier in a way, as if afflicted with Tourettes or just someone who hasn’t yet had the opportunity to refine themselves with any of the polish we know of as good behaviour, or even class.
Back in the 1980’s James Blunt sang a number called “You’re Beautiful” where he throws in a random f-chip, and for the time it was pretty brazen, especially in the middle of a slow-dancing love song. But I guess people get a little bit of a rush when they can say a word out loud like that, almost as if they were getting away with something egregiously naughty, like swearing in school. And, let’s not forget, nothing drips romance more than shouting out “f**k” in the middle of a waltz with that special girl you have a shine on.
I remember supervising a grade 8 graduation dance. At one time, long ago, I was a professional disc jockey, so I asked if I could see the playlist, you know, just for kicks. Included was a song by Brittney Spears called If U Seek Amy, which if you take the time to actually sound it out, gives you the general idea. And yet this was going to be played at a Catholic school graduation dance where the playlist was either not monitored, or monitored by people a little more naive than what might be needed. Some teachers might even get into the spirit of the whole thing and sing right along not knowing what it was they were saying out loud. Or maybe they might wonder why the kids were singing this certain song so lustfully.
“Love me, hate me, say what you want about me. But all the boys and all of the girls are begging to, if you seek Amy. Love me, hate me, but can’t you see what I see. All the boys and all of the girls are begging to, if you seek Amy.“
So yeah, I guess this is the new wave of pop music, where artists fall all over themselves to out-do one another with potty-talk music. What’s interesting is that a lot of it seems to be originating from female artists, which is not me trying to sound sexist, but rather me wondering if this is just a reflection of the idea that women, particularly young women, are angrier at life than their male counterparts.
As with most things in this life, my thoughts on this are worth absolutely nothing. We’re not looking at a one-man crusade to reform the pop music industry, because that would be a horribly lonely experience.
Plus, almost all of this stuff is really good music. But unlike other music, I can’t very well drive down the main drag blasting tunes with my windows down and having the word f**k come out of me while passing by a gaggle of Catholic Women’s League volunteers. Nor am I ever going to get behind a song where the n-word is thrown out like it’s nothing. I’m not Black, so that, to me, would be a wonderful way to get myself shot.
What’s really sad is that, anyone criticizing me is likely to say something about how I shouldn’t be driving down the main drag with my tunes blasting at my age. It likely wouldn’t have anything to do with the song itself. I might score some cool points with the younger generations, but for the most part, the criticism would be more about me acting my age.
Anyway, it is what it is. If I don’t like it so much, I suppose I could just load up some Anne Murray for my next main drag jag.
Spread my tiny wings and fly away.
NEWSMAGRENFREW 