Tag: Doja Cat Hot Pink

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.