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  • “yes, and?” Joins the Ranks of Other “Clapback at the Critics” Songs

    “yes, and?” Joins the Ranks of Other “Clapback at the Critics” Songs

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    It is an increasingly “grand tradition” in the genre of songwriting. Not to mention a rite of passage for any major pop star who stirs up enough controversy. That tradition being to “clapback” at the faceless blob known as “The Critics” (though some are simply trying to treat art with the seriousness it should be imbued with—but try telling that to a stan, or a celebrity as convinced of her perfection as Lana Del Rey). With Ariana Grande’s lead single from Eternal Sunshine, “yes, and?,” she revives this grand tradition with the help of the inspiration that came from being, let’s just say it, a homewrecker (a song title that’s already been used, to memorable effect, by Marina and the Diamonds [now MARINA], and appears on the list below). Repurposing the narrative to her benefit with a song that takes ownership of loving a certain babyface ginger dick, Ethan Slater. Best known, that’s right, for his portrayal of SpongeBob SquarePants in the musical of the same name (Grande always has a fetish for the wiry, slightly gay types). 

    While “yes, and?” can’t quite surpass a track like Madonna’s “Human Nature” in terms of its stinging qualities against the critics (e.g., “I’m not your bitch/Don’t hang your shit on me”), it’s definitely become instantly “up there” among the ranks of iconic clapbacks in song form. Below are a few other noteworthy ones from the past few decades, in no particular order. 

    “shut up” by Ariana Grande: Obviously no stranger to criticism by the time 2020’s Positions rolled around, it was fitting that Grande should kick off that album with the saucy “shut up.” A clear message to critics, tabloid headlines and online trolls alike, Grande’s directive was simple: “You know you sound so dumb (so dumb, so dumb, so dumb)/So maybe you should shut up/Yeah maybe you should shut up.” Elsewhere, she points out that those who tend to criticize tend to have the most time on their hands and are also plenty criticizable themselves. Thus, she adds, “How you been spendin’ you time?/How you be usin’ your tongue?/You be so worried ‘bout mine/Can’t even get yourself none.” That line about “using one’s tongue” also foreshadowed the lyric from “yes, and?” that goes, “My tongue is sacred/I speak upon what I like.” Because, apparently, it’s only okay when Ari does that, not critics. 

    “Without Me” by Eminem: Released as the lead single from Eminem’s fourth album, The Eminem Show, “Without Me” was a sequel, of sorts, to “The Real Slim Shady” from 2000’s The Marshall Mathers LP. By 2002, when The Eminem Show came out, Eminem was, even more than Grande, extremely well-versed in being caught in the melee of critics’ and politicians’ contempt. Not to mention the fellow celebrities/public figures Eminem was wont to name-check in his songs. In “Without Me,” that includes Dick and Lynne Cheney, Elvis Presley, Chris Kirkpatrick of *NSYNC, Limp Bizkit, Moby and Obie Trice (though Obie is only mentioned in reference to “stomping” on Moby). More than anything, however, Eminem’s intent is to remind all of his detractors how “empty” it would feel without him in the music industry. Hence, the earworm of a chorus, “​​Now, this looks like a job for me/So everybody, just follow me/‘Cause we need a little controversy/‘Cause it feels so empty without me.” The accompanying video portraying Eminem as a superhero rather than a villain only added to the efficacy of his jibe at critics. 

    “The Emperor’s New Clothes” by Sinead O’Connor: Although “The Emperor’s New Clothes,” the second single from I Do Not Want What I Haven’t Got, is about many things, one of its most fundamental verses is peak “clapback at the critics,” of which there were already many—especially in conservative Catholic Ireland—at the time of O’Connor’s second record release. The verse in question goes: “There’s millions of people/Who offer advice and say how I should be/But they’re twisted and they will never be/Any influence on me/But you will always be/You will always be.” In this way, O’Connor insists that the public perception or criticism of her will never matter—only the opinion and viewpoint of the one she truly loves (at that time, producer John Reynolds) will. The video for the song also heightens the notion of O’Connor continuing to perform however she wants to and say whatever she wants to as its entire premise is just her dancing and singing onstage in front of an expectedly judgmental crowd.

    “Human Nature” by Madonna: The occasional Sinead adversary, Madonna, brought listeners the inarguable mack daddy of all clapback songs in 1994, with the release of Bedtime Stories (still among one of Madonna’s most underrated records). A direct reference to her treatment and the general slut-shaming that occurred during her Sex book and Erotica era, Madonna wanted to remind critics that she may have forgiven, but she didn’t forget. As the fourth and final single from the album, “Human Nature” differed from the previous singles (including “Secret,” “Take A Bow” and “Bedtime Story”) in that it deliberately sought to remind listeners and critics alike that, despite presenting a “softer side” for this record, the defiant, devil-may-care Madonna was still there. Ready to pounce—and in a black latex bodysuit, too. For just as iconic as the song itself was the Jean-Baptiste Mondino-directed video, awash in S&M aesthetics inspired by Eric Stanton. As Madonna herself said of the track, “The song is about, um, basically saying, ‘Don’t put me in a box, don’t pin me down, don’t tell me what I can and can’t say and it’s about breaking out of restraints.” The restraints that critics have, so often, foolishly tried to place on Madonna. 

    “Like It Or Not” by Madonna: By 2005, Madonna had more than just the usual critics on her back. After turning forty-seven, Madonna kept pushing the so-called limits of pop stardom by daring to keep not only releasing records and performing live, but still dressing “too scantily” “for her age.” Complete with the leotards and fishnets that characterized her Confessions on a Dance Floor period. Fittingly, “Like It Or Not” served as the finale to the record, with Madonna promising her detractors, “This is who I am/You can like it or not/You can love me or leave me/‘Cause I’m never gonna stop.” Turns out, she might have been directing those comments at Guy Ritchie as well. 

    Vulgar” by Sam Smith and Madonna: In case you couldn’t tell by now, Madonna is not just the Queen of Pop but clearly the Queen of the Clapback—as further evidenced by this modern update to the content and attitude of “Human Nature.” Sam Smith and Madonna came together for this song after the latter’s condemnation for her appearance (too obviously riddled with plastic surgery—that was the usual critique) at the 2023 Grammys and after Smith, too, was criticized for his increasingly “fat” and “effete” appearance during the Gloria album rollout and the according visuals that came with it (including the video for “Unholy”—during which Smith is dressed in some very Madonna-as-Dita attire). Teaming up to hit back at those who would try to keep them down (even though Madonna has far more experience with that than Smith), the duo triumphantly announces, “Got nothing left to prove/You know you’re beautiful when they call you/Vulgar/I do what I wanna/I go when I gotta/I’m sexy, I’m free and I feel, uh/Vulgar.”  

    “Your Early Stuff” by Pet Shop Boys: The Madonna-adjacent (in terms of gay fanbase, musical stylings and coming up in the 80s) Pet Shop Boys also know a thing or two about being critiqued. Especially when it comes to the main criticism being that they’ve been around “too long.” As though an artist should simply pack it in because some arcane alarm clock goes off in their head about being “too old” to continue when, the reality is, true artists keep creating art until the day they die. Featured on 2012’s Elysium (the duo’s eleventh album), Neil Tennant had no trouble writing the song as, per his own words, “Every single line in that song, every single thing has been said to me.” This includes such backhanded “compliments” as, “You’ve been around but you don’t look too rough/And I still quite like some of your early stuff/It’s bad in a good way, if you know what I mean/The sound of those old machines” and “Those old videos look pretty funny/What’s in it for you now, need the money?/They say that management never used to pay/Honestly, you were ripped off back in the day.” Unlike the other songs on this list, “Your Early Stuff” is perhaps most unique for stemming directly from the criticisms of the common people, as opposed to more ivory tower-y, “legitimate” critics. 

    “URL Badman” by Lily Allen: Another British addition to the list, this still too-untreasured gem from Lily Allen’s equally untreasured Sheezus record, “URL Badman” is Allen at her most delightfully snarky (which is saying something, as she she’s quite gifted with snark). Taking little boys who write for the likes of Complex and Vice (RIP, but that’s karma) to task, Allen speaks from the myopic perspective of the URL Badman in question, declaring, “It’s not for me, it must be wrong/I could ignore it and move on/But I’m a broadband champion/A URL badman,” also adding, “And if you’re tryna call it art/I’ll have to take it all apart/I got a high-brow game plan/A URL badman/I’m a U-R-L-B-A-D-M-A-N with no empathy.” This speaking to the crux of how musicians feel about critics in general. 

    Attention” by Doja Cat: Released as the lead single from Scarlet, Doja Cat’s mountains of controversy had piled up significantly by 2023, chief among them being her blithe defense of dating a white supremacist/sexual abuser and her venomous attack against her own fanbase, who she told to “get a job”—the usual dig made by people who think paid time for unsatisfying labor is supposed to make you a more worthwhile person on this planet (hence, “Billie Eilish Is A Jobist”). “Attention” paired well with this rash of events, with Doja Cat creepily talking about some invisible monster (perhaps what Lady Gaga would call “the fame monster” inside of her) that needs the attention, not her. It’s a very, “That wasn’t me, that was Patricia” defense, and maybe “Scarlet” is the easier part of herself to blame for needing her ego to be fed. Nonetheless, she still demands of the critics, “Look at me, look at me, you lookin’?” later mocking them with the verse, “I readed all the comments sayin’, ‘D, I’m really shooketh,’ ‘D, you need to see a therapist, is you lookin’?’/Yes, the one I got, they really are the best/Now I feel like I can see you bitches is depressed/I am not afraid to finally say shit with my chest.” Obviously, that last line sounds familiar thanks to appearing in the chorus of Grande’s “yes, and?” when she urges, “Yes, and?/Say that shit with your chest.” In another moment of skewering the critics, Doja Cat balks, “Talk your shit about me, I can easily disprove it, it’s stupid/You follow me, but you don’t really care about the music.”

    “Taco Truck x VB” by Lana Del Rey: Lana Del Rey has often felt similarly. And, like Sinead O’Connor’s “The Emperor’s New Clothes,” it’s one verse in particular that makes Del Rey’s lengthy “Taco Truck x VB” (the “VB” being an abbreviation for a previously unreleased version of Norman Fucking Rockwell’s “Venice Bitch”) stand out as a clapback track. The one that shrugs, “Spin it till you whip it into white cream, baby/Print it into black and white pages don’t faze me/Before you talk, let me stop what you’re saying/I know, I know, I know that you hate me.” And just like that, Del Rey dismisses all responsibility for dubious behavior….like wearing a Native American headdress, posing a non sequitur “question for the culture,” posting unblurred-out videos of black and brown protesters/looters during the BLM of summer 2020 or insisting she’s not racist because she’s dated plenty of rappers (on a side note: no one knows who she might be talking about apart from white “rapper” G-Eazy).

    “Homewrecker” by Marina and the Diamonds: Even if Marina Diamandis a.k.a. Marina and the Diamonds a.k.a. MARINA is singing from the perspective of her alter ego, Electra Heart, 2012’s “Homewrecker” is still plenty viable as a clapback song. And it definitely ties into Ariana Grande’s overarching theme on “yes, and?,” which is a direct addressment of the critics who have called her, that’s right, homewrecker. Opening with the tongue-in-cheek lyrics, “Every boyfriend is the one/Until otherwise proven…/And love it never happens like you think it really should,” MARINA paints the picture of a woman who won’t be torn down by the slut-shaming insults lobbied against her. Besides, as she announces (in the spirit of Holly Golightly), “And I don’t belong to anyone/They call me homewrecker, homewrecker.” She gets even cheekier when she adds, “I broke a million hearts just for fun” and “I guess you could say that my life’s a mess/But I’m still lookin’ pretty in this dress.” This latter line reminding one of Grande’s lyric on “we can’t be friends (wait for your love),” “You got me misunderstood/But at least I look this good.”

    “Piece of Me” by Britney Spears: No stranger to being called a homewrecker herself after getting together with Kevin Federline in 2004, when Shar Jackson was pregnant with his second child, Spears was already jaded about critical lambastings by 2007. And “Piece of Me” was the only appropriate response to all the scrutiny (especially after Spears was reamed for her performance of “Gimme More” at the 2007 VMAs). Thus, she unleashed it as the second single from Blackout. Having endured the critical lashings of her every move, 2007 was also the year that Spears famously shaved her head at a Tarzana salon, providing plenty of grist for the tabloid mill. But to her endlessly stalking paparazzi and the various critics, Spears roared back, “You want a piece of me?/I’m Mrs. Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous/I’m Mrs. Oh My God That Britney’s Shameless/I’m Mrs. Extra! Extra! This Just In!/You want a piece of me/I’m Mrs. She’s Too Big Now She’s Too Thin.” So apropos to her entire existence in the spotlight, Spears’ Vegas residency would end up being called that as well—a heartbreaking choice considering how many pieces her family took of her to make her endure that ceaseless run of performances. 

    “Rumors” by Lindsay Lohan: Inarguably Lindsay Lohan’s only solid contribution to the music business, “Rumors” embodies the apex of 00s tabloid culture, awash in all the language of voyeurism (“I can see that you’re watchin’ me/And you’re probably gonna write what you didn’t see”). And Lohan made the mistake of releasing it slightly before she would really be turned into a tabloid/late night talk show joke. This stemming from her overt dependency on drugs and alcohol at a time when a movie titled Herbie: Fully Loaded was going to come out. Cue all the obvious jibes. If only “Rumors” had been released just a year later to secure maximum impact as a defense for her clubbing/party girl behavior. Even so, it remains what RuPaul would call safe as part of the clapback canon. 

    “Industry Baby” by Lil Nas X featuring Jack Harlow: In 2021, Lil Nas X came under fire by Nike for selling a limited run of Satan Shoes featuring the famous swoosh logo with the help of MSCHF, an art collective based in Brooklyn. Nike sued for trademark infringement, prompting Lil Nas X to create quite the tailored concept for the premise of the “Industry Baby” video (with the title sardonically alluding to the insult “industry plant”). Incidentally, it was directed by Christian Breslauer, who would also go on to direct Grande’s “yes, and?” video. But Lil Nas X wasn’t just rebelling against the lawsuit, but all of his haters in general, rapping, “You was never really rooting for me anyway/When I’m back up at the top, I wanna hear you say/‘He don’t run from nothin’, dog’/Get your soldiers, tell ’em that the break is over.” And while co-production from Ye (a.k.a. Kanye West) has left some taint on the track, it still packs a punch when it comes to walloping the critics.

    “Mean” by Taylor Swift:  Probably the most flaccid of the clapback tracks on this list, “Mean” was a direct response to music critic Bob Lefsetz, who reviewed Taylor Swift’s 2010 performance at the Grammys less than favorably. Among some of his more scathing assessments about her off-key performance (made all the more noticeable because she had joined Stevie Nicks onstage) was that she full-stop “can’t sing” and that she had “destroyed her career overnight.” Nostradamus this man is not. But his words clearly stung enough for Swift to include an angry little girl clapback (something that “Look What You Made Me Do” would perfect) on 2010’s Speak Now, released nine months after she performed at the Grammys in January. Which means she found the time to tack “Mean” onto the record for optimal impact. Even so, Lefsetz would rightly note later of the rumors that it was about him and his review, “If this song is really about me, I wish it were better.”

    “Not My Responsibility” and “Therefore I Am” by Billie Eilish: The subject of frequent scrutiny, Billie Eilish already has two clapback at the critics songs under her belt and she’s only twenty-two years old. The first “song,” “Not My Responsibility,” wouldn’t really become a song until it appeared on her sophomore album, Happier Than Ever, in 2021. Originally created as a short film interlude for her Where Do We Go? World Tour, the song came at a time when Eilish was being constantly called out for being, let’s say, the epitome of a twenty-first century sexless pop star. A direct attack on body- and slut-shaming, Eilish softly states, “I feel you watching always/And nothing I do goes unseen/So while I feel your stares/Your disapproval/Or your sigh of relief/If I lived by them/I’d never be able to move.” This more modern commentary on what criticism in the age of social media can do extends not just to critics, but the legions of online commentators as well. A legion that Eilish also acknowledges on “Therefore I Am,” which was released later in 2020 at the height of the pandemic, ergo Eilish’s ability to film freely in a vacant Glendale Galleria. A privilege the critics she derides would never have access to. Something that shines through in her laughing taunt, “Stop, what the hell are you talking about?/Ha/Get my pretty name out of your mouth/We are not the same with or without/Don’t talk ’bout me like how you might know how I feel/Top of the world, but your world isn’t real/Your world’s an ideal.” Often, an impossible one for anybody to live up to. But such is the complex and isolating nature of being a critic.

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    Genna Rivieccio

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  • When Everyone Wants to Believe A Celebrity Is Andy Kaufman’ing It

    When Everyone Wants to Believe A Celebrity Is Andy Kaufman’ing It

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    Ye, Taylor Swift (because Matty Healy), Lizzo, Doja Cat. When it comes to “wanting to believe” a celebrity is merely “putting you on,” the past year has provided no short supply of examples. Nor have the defensive reactions from fans insisting that everyone else deriding their “god” doesn’t know what they’re talking about, or that said “god” is simply “doing an act.” No one better embodies that latter category than Doja Cat. For, as her fans (or what’s left of them) have loved to suggest as a means to cushion the blow of her recent behavior, this entire “thing” she’s doing right now is just part of her “Scarlet persona”—or something. “Scarlet” being the name of the “character” she seems to be portraying. Or rather, an “alter ego,” if you prefer. Either way, fans are latching onto the idea that “she is now playing the role of Scarlet. They are two different characters. In an interview she said she apologized for what would happen later…she also said that she loved us before she got into the role of Scarlet. She doesn’t hate us, but Scarlet does since she’s evil. Doja doesn’t despise us, hate messages are from Scarlet!!!”

    It’s a “grasping at straws” type of reasoning, but one that makes sense considering the post-reality era we’ve been living in since Andy Kaufman’s brand arrived onto the scene. Particularly a 1982 hoax involving pro wrestler Jerry Lawler. Specifically, the time that they battled it out on an episode of The David Letterman Show. With Kaufman already in a neck brace after Lawler supposedly performed the piledriver maneuver on him, Lawler slapped Kaufman during the interview, leading them into another altercation. One that was, as revealed over a decade later, entirely staged. This was the type of “comedy” (or rather, performance art) that not only made Kaufman stand out, but also made him a legend. Mainly for being so committed to his “act” that the truth about it would take years to be unearthed. This also being why many people still speculate that he’ll emerge one day and say his death, too, was a hoax. This “approach” to celebrity would start to catch on not just with other famous people in the twentieth century (see also: Jim Carrey [who, fittingly, portrays Andy Kaufman in Man on the Moon] at the 1999 MTV Movie Awards), but even non-famous people as well.

    In other words, those members of the hoi polloi who got the message that “the hoax” was what got people’s attention. And with “reality TV”/daytime talk shows as an increasingly viable medium with which the average joe could secure his fifteen minutes of fame, the opportunities for creating false fanfare were ample. Case in point, a 1998 episode of The Jerry Springer Show (rebranded as part of “Springer Break” for MTV’s illustrious week of spring break programming), during which two roommates named Dave and Matt went on the show with Dave’s girlfriend, Caitlin. When Matt “confesses” he’s been fooling around with Caitlin, Dave goes completely apeshit on him to a level that clearly gets Springer both salivating and scared when the camera flashes to his reaction. In the end, it turned out the trio had bamboozled the talk show host, admitting the drama was completely manufactured. That yes, Dave and Caitlin were boyfriend and girlfriend, but that the affair with Matt was made up for the sake of quality 90s daytime TV. And so, taking into account how “the art of the hoax” and what it could do for germinal forms of virality had already trickled down into the culture of “normals” (a.k.a. non-famous people), its value became apparent to many. Especially as the twenty-first century progressed. 

    That same “hoax-like” quality was also manifest in the comedic stylings of Sacha Baron Cohen, who brought his Borat character from Da Ali G Show to life in an even bigger way in 2006’s Borat (a.k.a. Borat! Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan). Interacting with “dyed in the wool” Americans who genuinely believe he’s some “ghastly” foreigner with no knowledge of American life or customs, the gimmick Cohen had in mind—to expose prejudice and racism entrenched in the very fabric of American culture—worked like a charm. Between a Southern frat boy warning Borat to “not let a woman ever ever make you who you are” to a Republican at a Virginia rodeo telling Borat he should shave his mustache to look more like an I-talian instead of a Muslim to a crowd of people at that same rodeo laughing at Borat’s thick accent before he delves into an offensive version the national anthem (“I now will sing our Kazakh national anthem to the tune of your national anthem”), the levels of misogyny, homophobia and xenophobia present in the U.S. are exposed at every turn. And all through the carefully-constructed ruse of a character like Borat. 

    Less careful constructions aren’t always met with being hailed as “brilliant.” For example, in 2008, Joaquin Phoenix ostensibly had a “breakdown” (which was in rather poor taste considering Britney’s real one the same year) after announcing his plans to retire from acting so he could pursue a rap career. The result was a 2010 “documentary” directed by Casey Affleck. Quickly revealed to be a mockumentary, I’m Still Here (not to be confused with Todd Haynes’ impressionistic Bob Dylan biopic, I’m Not There, released three years before) was met with lukewarm reviews, with many critics seeming to feel that it failed as “good performance art.” Plus, it also happened to furnish the film set that would later put Casey Affleck in the spotlight for his sexually harassing tendencies, as well as promoting a work environment that encouraged sexual harassment (à la Lizzo). So really, what “artistic value” did it have apart from being an experimental vanity project?

    The same can be said of whatever Doja Cat is “doing” right now. If, in fact, it’s contrived at all, and not just a desperate bid on fans’ part to validate her behavior (which also says something about the dangers of post-reality existence). This includes going off on their patheticness for saying they “love” her and trying to call themselves shit like “Kittenz” in honor of the way other fan bases have names (e.g., Ariana Grande’s Arianators, Taylor Swift’s Swifties, Charli XCX’s Angels, Kesha’s Animals, Lady Gaga’s Little Monsters, Nicki Minaj’s The Barbz, Beyoncé’s Beyhive, etc.). Doja made it apparent that not only does she think the people focusing their energy on this are total losers, but also that she doesn’t feel she “needs” them at all. At least not anymore. Not now that she has enough money to pursue whatever she wants creatively. Alas, she might quickly come to find that her overhead costs are no longer matching up with what she’s making if a legion of fans aren’t there to support her where it counts: financially. 

    Whether or not this is a “stunt,” some believe Doja Cat is truly immune to public opinion (à la Ye) at this point and that, “No matter how you feel about Doja Cat, it is clear that she is living her life unapologetically right now. While some fans may be freaked out by it, she seems to be happy, which is all that matters.” No one appeared to have that stance about Ye, possibly because it’s as Dave Chappelle said and the one thing you can’t do in Hollywood is speak ill of the Jewish community. Not only “speak ill,” but also go on multiple venomous tirades regarding Jewish stereotypes and conspiracies. Starting with Ye tweeting in late 2022, “I’m a bit sleepy tonight but when I wake up I’m going death con 3 On JEWISH PEOPLE.” Apart from misspelling DEFCON, the most glaring aspect of the tweet was Ye’s plea for attention, no matter how negative. An escalating need for it that only amplified as he doubled down on his offensive rhetoric, complete with praising Hitler and dining with Donald Trump and a white nationalist Holocaust denier at Mar-a-Lago. All of this occurred at the end of 2022. As 2023 began, Ye became fodder for awards show hosts (i.e., Jerrod Carmichael) and South Park in between gradually fading into the background. Perhaps he’ll try to reemerge at some point and holler, “Gotcha!” It was all an act. Just like Andy Kaufman. Just like, as fans insist, Doja Cat. 

    It’s the safest bet for coming back from bad behavior, after all. “Haha, just kidding! It was part of my ‘art.’” But, unlike Kaufman and Cohen (who Ye would be likely to point out are both Jewish so it must be some kind of conspiracy), the “performance art” being done now isn’t ironic, nor does it serve as a means to highlight a larger, unpleasant truth about humanity. Instead, the so-called performance art itself has become the larger, unpleasant truth about humanity. Even when people want to praise ultimately annoying actors and musicians, they’ll still dredge up Kaufman (because the devil can cite pop culture scripture for his purpose). For instance, Jennifer Lopez compared Jennifer Coolidge to Kaufman after working with her on Shotgun Wedding, in that you can never really tell if “that’s who she is” or she’s simply always “in character.” To put it another way, if she’s just making money off her natural persona in a similar way that Angus Cloud did with his Fez character (though it always irritated him when people wrote off his talent that way). 

    To further debunk the idea that Doja Cat is just “trolling” everyone (therefore, her behavior is “fine”), musicians who have had alter egos in the past have known better than to “trust the audience” with being able to separate the singer from the alter ego without making it explicit. From David Bowie with Ziggy Stardust to Beyoncé with Sasha Fierce to Madonna with Madame X, these were “characters” that had entire albums constructed around them. Whatever Doja’s forthcoming album turns out to be called, it doesn’t seem like the title is going to be Scarlet. Which might be the only way for her to backpedal on what she’s said and done at this point. And isn’t that what every celeb wants to do once they notice that their “artistic integrity” is affecting their bank account’s bottom line?

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    Genna Rivieccio

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  • The Verve Wants Its Video Concept Back: Doja Cat’s “Attention”

    The Verve Wants Its Video Concept Back: Doja Cat’s “Attention”

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    Never mind that Miley Cyrus not too long ago declared, “I need attention” on a song (and live album) titled, what else, “Attention”—Doja Cat has her own take on “the matter” that is attention craving (and despising). Treating the “monster” that is wanting—nay, needing—to be noticed like it’s a “thing” that has to be fed, Doja chants during her lulling chorus, “(Love me)/It needs, it seeks affection/(So sweet)/Hungry, it fiends attention/(Hungry)/It needs, it seeks affection/Hungry, it fiends.” In an age where everyone is compelled to engage in more absurd, potentially dangerous (to others and the self) behavior in order to gain attention on social media, that line hits especially hard. And, talking of “hard,” Doja’s entire aim with the rollout of her upcoming fourth record is to return to the so-called hardness that characterized the rap stylings of her first EP, Purrr!, and debut album, Amala.

    Wanting to stray (no cat pun intended) away from what she’s deemed the “pink and soft things” and the “pop and glittery sounds” that punctuated the likes of Hot Pink and Planet Her, Doja establishes a tone of defiance with this Rogét Chahayed and Y2K-produced single. Claiming that she would “do no more pop” after securing the “cash grabs” furnished by her previous two records, the more “esoteric” nature of “Attention” is extremely deliberate. Nonetheless, her pivot toward something like an “anti-media” track is very much in the style of a pop star. Like, say, Britney Spears…who famously released the rumination on getting too much negative attention that is “Piece of Me” in 2007. In fact, the entire Blackout album was both a “fuck you” to the paparazzi that had made her life a waking nightmare and a total embracement of the “bad girl” image that the media wanted her to cater to, per their love of placing people on pedestals only to knock them down.

    Prior to “Piece of Me,” Britney would also provide “My Prerogative” and “Do Somethin’” as singles tackling the topic of negative attention in 2004 (indeed, it’s a wonder that Spears never had a song called “Attention” herself). But one thing Brit didn’t address in these songs that Doja Cat does on “Attention” is that age-old question, “Ain’t the bad press good?” This erstwhile-adhered-to theory about how “there’s no such thing as bad press,” however, has very much fallen off in the wake of cancel culture. And Doja is no stranger to that “culture” for many reasons at this point—from being accused of condoning and promoting white supremacy to consistently collaborating with Dr. Luke (though she did announce she had no intention of working with him ever again back in 2021). In point of fact, all of her albums have been released through Dr. Luke’s Kemosabe Records imprint, thanks to Doja getting signed to the label after being connected to the Kesha-torturing producer through Yeti Beats. Which was, to be “fair,” the year before Kesha went public with her allegations. So how could Doja have known any better, right?

    And yet, everyone who has continued to work with Dr. Luke post-Kesha revelation has only served to prove that women’s voices still aren’t heard. Worse still, no one wants to hear them. Especially if it means profit losses. And the partnership between Doja and Dr. Luke has been very profitable indeed—complete with several Grammy nominations for both. What’s more, even if she “doesn’t work with him” again, she’ll always technically be working with him so long as she releases music through Kemosabe. Which is exactly what she’s doing with her fourth record. Because why wouldn’t she? It’s not as though other artists are shy about continuing to share in song composing glory with him, including Kim Petras, who has been, worse still, ardently defensive in her choice to keep collaborating with him, stating, “I have nothing to say or be ashamed of at all” in a 2022 tweet. As if.

    In any case, the point is that Doja has gotten all manner of negative attention not just in spite of but because of her success. That much is immediately addressed in the opening scenes of her “Attention” video, directed by Tanu Muino—who has been coming out with the most standout music videos in the game of late, including Lil Nas X’s “Montero,” Normani featuring Cardi B’s “Wild Side” and Elton and Britney’s “Hold Me Closer.” Yet, for as usually “unique” as Muino’s stylings are, there is a noticeable similarity to a certain signature 90s video in “Attention.” One that doesn’t come across right away as Doja starts off driving through Downtown LA as a slew of onlookers equipped with warped faces (much like the ones Madonna encounters in “Drowned World/Substitute For Love”) clamor around her. Staring out the window of her car as she drives slowly past them to lap up the old school paparazzi flashbulbs (acting as though it’s still TMZ’s peak era of 00s paparazzi stalking, despite flashbulbs having long ago gone the way of the dodo at that point, too), Doja croons the eerie chorus.

    For a meta effect, the car she’s driving suddenly encounters another Doja Cat entering the crosswalk as she gives “Car Doja” a venomous “I’m walkin’ here” type of look. It’s then that we veer into the territory of a fairly direct ripoff of what The Verve’s Richard Ashcroft did in 1997’s “Bitter Sweet Symphony” video (itself something of an offshoot of Massive Attack’s “Unfinished Sympathy” concept). Except that Doja, instead of using London’s Hoxton Street, wields the streets of DTLA (near the Los Angeles Theater) to fade into the “crowd” as she also bumps into it (granted, not as bombastically as Ashcroft). After Doja rails against her proverbial haters throughout this scene (hence, bumping into the various passersby who have disgusted looks on their faces as they take note of her presence), Muino pans over and up to the “stars” (as if L.A. has any of those) in the night sky and transitions into a scene of Doja looking as though she’s beneath water. Bedecked in plenty of neck jewelry, it’s the only thing to distract from her torso’s nudity, which speaks to the line, “Look at me, look at me, I’m naked/Vulnerability earned me a lot of bacon.”

    Except that Doja isn’t entirely naked, wearing a thong to further highlight a lyric like, “I put a thong all in my ass and taught you how to shake it.” Not exactly true—for there have been so many women, Black and otherwise, before Doja who have shown us all how to shake our asses, albeit for much less cash. Alas, Doja is clearly not in the mood to be modest about what she’s “accomplished,” also rapping, “Man, I been humble, I’m tired of all the deprecation/Just let me flex, bruh, just let me pop shit.” An interesting choice, that word: “pop.” Considering how much she presently hates it due to the musical genre association. But, despite making pop music her bitch (again, thanks in part to Dr. Luke), Doja is determined to return to her “rap roots.” Even if they were never as strong as the ones her idol, Nicki Minaj, has. To that end, Minaj, too, is no stranger to expressing her frustrations with being deemed somehow “less relevant” in the rap realm just because she’s excelled in pop (an issue that came to roost with the Grammy nominations last year).

    Regardless of that success, as Doja once forewarned on her first EP via “Beautiful,” “Even if you think you know me/A woman changes with the seasons.” And this is the season of the Attention Whore (also, incidentally, the name of a Tove Lo track), as Doja, during those “underwater-esque” scenes, proceeds to exude orgasm-like ecstasy while words such as “Love Me” and “Hungry” flash on the screen in red. Muino then takes us back onto the streets of L.A. with Doja “attired” in her version of a Scarlet Witch “ensemble” (that looks mostly like body paint…and yes, somewhat echoes her red body paint aesthetic for Schiaparelli’s haute couture show in Paris earlier this year). Things continue to get more surreal as she walks down the street again while the passersby this time around appear to be wearing what amount to “flesh masks.”

    Eventually, she peers into the window of a car (almost like Vivian Ward might) as though looking for herself in the driver’s seat again. Instead, all she sees is her own reflection before Muino takes us out of Downtown LA and onto the 4th Street Bridge where Doja can see the skyline of Downtown from her new perch. Soon, she seems to transform into the very “it” she keeps referring to when it comes to feeding the “attention beast” as her nipples flash a neon alien green while she stands against a floodlight type of backdrop.

    In the final frame, the circular flashbulb that keeps “subliminally” appearing in various scenes shows up again more prominently, looking like both a flashbulb and a human eye itself. With oh so many eyes watching Doja by now and giving her the attention she simultaneously loves and loathes. As is the case with most famous people after a certain point in their careers.

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    Genna Rivieccio

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