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  • Madonna’s “American Pie” Video Is the Closest She’s Come to Identifying With/Admitting to Her “Average Americanness”

    Madonna’s “American Pie” Video Is the Closest She’s Come to Identifying With/Admitting to Her “Average Americanness”

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    The Madonna we know today is one associated with glamor (and yes, that now extends to particularly expensive “beauty treatments”), with being “cosmopolitan.” Rarely, if ever, does she try to do much to actively remind people that she’s from the Midwest. Instead, she frequently cites New York as her “true home” because that’s the place she was really “born” as her real self (it’s more than slightly cheesy, yet she’s not the only “New Yorker” to tout this “chestnut” repeatedly). She’s also prone to straying as far as possible from anything “red state”-related.

    And yet, in 2000, Madonna was perhaps feeling motivated to “unite” the nation during an election year that had already started to stoke fears among liberals of a Republican win. After all, Al Gore still had the (cum) stain of Bill Clinton on him by default, and many voters didn’t see him as being charismatic enough for the presidency (little did they know, charisma would eventually be the last requirement on people’s minds, instead just hoping for their presidential hopefuls to stand upright and/or not spew the most toxic, baseless rhetoric). To boot, the election was still somewhat far-off in the minds of the American people when “American Pie” was released on February 8th. They had no idea that, almost exactly nine months later, on November 7th, the U.S. would be sent into its first political tailspin of the century as George W. Bush refused to cede the election when the networks started to call it in favor of Gore. Instead, he leaned on Florida, saying it wasn’t over yet. Hence, “recount” would become the word of the year so late into it. But yes, before all that, it was easy to wax poetic about America through a cover of Don McLean’s classic.

    To lend an even more personal touch to her William Orbit-ified version of the track, Madonna’s video was intended as a “slice of life” homage to “real” Americans. In other words, the bottom of the barrel people so often referred to derisively as “working class.” Even though Madonna’s own father, Silvio “Tony” Ciccone, was more on the middle-class side of things (he worked as an optical engineer for Chrysler and General Dynamics), it hasn’t stopped her from frequently identifying with the more “blue collar” ilk, at least for the purposes of her “working really hard to make her dream come true” lore. And she did work really hard (yeah, sucking cock!, the misogynists might say as a means to denigrate that hard work). While Tony was the height of the American dream when Madonna was a child and teenager, she then came along to top him (no sexual Electra complex reference intended) on that front. All because of the intense work ethic he instilled within her. A work ethic that one tends to see more in working-class people than middle- and upper-class ones, if only because they’re constantly saddled with more physical, grueling grunt work.

    So it is that “American Pie” pays tribute to this sect of the American population: cab drivers, construction workers, a mother with her daughters, cops, gun sellers… Yes, those last two groups sound decidedly un-Madonna. And they are. Which is part of what makes this video such a unique and rare part of her oeuvre. For, along with this walk of life, she intermingles her usual bread and butter: the gays. It seems to be a move, on her part, designed to show that America is filled with so many different kinds of people who can coexist. That is, once upon a time…

    Even though, looking back, the U.S. doesn’t exactly have the best track record when it comes to showcasing “harmony.” And whenever there was, it was usually belied by the numerous “separate but equal” policies of the nation. For example, the treatment of the LGBTQIA+ community (long before it had that many-lettered moniker). In 2000, gay marriage still wasn’t legal. It wouldn’t be until 2003, and that was only in Massachusetts. As a result, Madonna including so many gay couples kissing in this particular video (one duo even does it front of a church, gasp!) intermixed with “red state types” (that might have later been disgusted to find that they were featured in the same “narrative”) was a big deal. Big enough for her to cop to her Midwestern roots for just four minutes and thirty-five seconds’ worth of time (hell, she even decided to dress “average” in a Charlotte Russe-looking tank top and jeans—though the label on the latter is Cosmic Wonder).

    What’s more, some of the lyrics, despite being written by McLean, are actually quite tailored to Madonna’s own story, including the lines, “I knew that if I had my chance/I could make those people dance/And maybe they’d be happy for a while.” This being the crux of what has driven her to make music for decades (well, that and an insatiable need to be loved and adored). There’s also the mention of how, “I was a lonely teenage broncin’ buck” (a play on “bucking bronco,” of course). A description that perfectly suits the teenage Madonna, who felt constantly out of place and was always rebelling in insidious ways (like wearing flesh-colored tights during a performance at school to make everyone think she was pantyless). Then there are the many allusions to religion that also speak to Madonna’s Catholic upbringing, such as, “And do you have faith in God above/If the Bible tells you so?” and “The three men I admire the most, the Father, Son and the Holy Ghost…”

    But more than any lyric, perhaps the most fitting for how Madonna has lived her life is: “Now do you believe in rock and roll?/And can music save your mortal soul?” Even in the darkest hours of the past forty-plus years during which she’s been in the spotlight, Madonna has always seemed to believe that it can. Especially in 2000, when life seemed fairly sinister and uncertain (though no one had any clue that, in hindsight, 2000 would feel like a cakewalk compared to 2024).

    And so, perhaps in the name of “unity”—and setting it as the tone for the new century—Madonna conceded, for just one day out of life, to admit that her past was rooted in the lusterless nature of being an “average American.” Though Madonna never did look quite like any of this lot (maybe that’s why she still keeps herself separate from them via a splitscreen). Probably thanks to her strong Italian and French ancestry. But then, what’s more averagely American than being descended from immigrants?

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    Genna Rivieccio

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  • Lana Del Rey and Quavo’s “Tough” Video: “National Anthem” Meets “Summertime Sadness” With A Dash of “American Pie”

    Lana Del Rey and Quavo’s “Tough” Video: “National Anthem” Meets “Summertime Sadness” With A Dash of “American Pie”

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    It’s been a year of Lana Del Rey harkening back to 2012. And why shouldn’t she? It’s the year she came up in the mainstream, the year when Biden was still acceptable and sentient as vice president and the year, presumably, when the world actually ended (and what we’re all in now is some increasingly bad simulation—or so we tell ourselves for comfort). Del Rey’s “throwback vibe” to the year her debut album was released began with her headlining Coachella performance in April, during which she rode toward the stage on the back of a motorcycle (a nod to her “Ride” video), newly svelte and rocking long, honey-blonde hair. In effect, she very specifically recreated the body and hairstyle she had in 2012 in time for the show. As if that weren’t enough, Del Rey emphasized her point by projecting a hologram of herself onstage during “hope is a dangerous thing for a woman like me to have – but i have it.” The hologram in question was wearing an updated version of the gown Del Rey sported during her forever infamous SNL performance on January 14, 2012 (the date her Coachella billboard called out when asking, in a parody of “Jesus freak” advertising, “Has anyone else died for you?”).

    With her latest single (and her first of 2024), “Tough,” Del Rey continues her “Make 2024 2012 Again” campaign by pulling from “Summertime Sadness” and “National Anthem” mood boards (complete with a grainy, “home movie”-style look). Most especially the latter. But there is a touch of “Summertime Sadness” in terms of the “in nature” setting that serves as the backdrop for “Tough.” Someplace “down-home” in order to suit Del Rey’s impending “country music” transition (though this doesn’t sound like much of an indication of that). The location could be anywhere in the South, really, but Georgia seems the most likely milieu furnishing these backwater roads, considering Quavo’s ties to Atlanta. Wherever it may be, the “Anywhere USA” look of it is the point. And since Del Rey is determined to staying faithful to her Americana shtick, the intent of the video, co-directed by Wyatt Spain Winfrey (who has a few Migos videos under his belt as well), Quavo and Del Rey, is one that speaks to the “wide open with possibility” aura of the United States. Which, as many have seen plenty of in the past decade, is pure myth rather than reality. And it’s a myth that’s getting harder and harder to sell. Even so, it’s apparent that Del Rey still wants to. That she’s still holding tight to the part of her “Ride” monologue when she insists, “I believe in the country America used to be.”

    Indeed, she lays her usual “selling America” angle on thick with one of the first images of the video homing in on an American flag. But not just any American flag—one with Del Rey’s effigy placed at the center and the caption “American Queen” underneath it. Clearly, Del Rey has been spending too much time with Kim Kardashian after shilling for Skims because it’s a decidedly Kardashian mentality to assume that the U.S. population is better off revering celebrities rather than trying to make politicians or other would-be “great minds” into figures that might be even remotely aspirational. No, instead, everyone knows by now that worshipping beneath the flag of fame is perhaps even more American than racism (while racism, in turn, is “as American as apple pie”).

    And, talking of the R word, Del Rey’s unfortunate Instagram post from January of 2021 can’t help but come to mind with her latest “rapper” team-up. That was the word she used as a catch-all for Black people when she said, “My best friends are rappers, my boyfriends have been rappers” in a post promoting Chemtrails Over the Country Club, which she was sure to call out as having plenty of people of color on the cover, “without even trying to.” As she was adamant about declaring, she had simply always been “inclusive” in her work before it was chic/practically mandated if one wants to stay relevant in the entertainment industry. But few examples of Del Rey’s supposed “inclusivity” (as opposed to, say, appropriation—which runs rampant in something like her short film/extended music video, Tropico) spring to mind from those early years except for A$AP Rocky, who so generously agreed to appear as a modern-day JFK in Del Rey’s “National Anthem” video.

    Apparently, this was the year he was on his white woman bullshit, for he was also dating Iggy Azalea before the two broke up in mid-2012 and he then went on to date Rita Ora (both women being examples of C-list musicians in the industry before A$AP graduated to the crème de la crème that is Rihanna). It didn’t seem to matter that he was romantically entwined, for he made it rather convincing that LDR was the Jackie to his Jack in this updated version of watching America crumble in real time.

    In truth, “National Anthem” was far more honest, visually, than “Tough” could ever hope to be in terms of what each says about the United States. A country in perpetual decay. The signs of that decay can’t even be hidden by the “sunnier” portrayal of America—and rural America in particular—in “Tough.” For, right from the get-go, as Quavo pulls up in his Hummer (no fucks given about the environment, even still) to collect Del Rey, he clocks a sign on the fence that reads, “Posted No Trespassing Keep Out.” Not only does it smack of the kind of signage used during the heyday of Jim Crow laws to keep “coloreds” from entering certain spaces, but it also makes one shudder to think about what kind of red state bullshit the duo was willing to endure for the sake of this video’s production.

    Del Rey then enters the frame in that angle/pose/facial expression that echo the ones she gave in “Summertime Sadness.” All of the sudden the two are embracing, getting right into trying to exude the kind of sexual chemistry that has gotten numerous media outlets speculating as to whether or not the two are more than just “musical partners” at this point in time. That same speculation would befall Del Rey and A$AP in the 2010s, with the latter admitting, “I first had had a crush on her from seeing her on the internet—I fell in love with her voice the first time I heard it. I probably heard it in July, August for the first time, I think it was ‘Blue Jeans.’ And from then on, I’m like, I love her!” Del Rey had already mentioned in an interview with Complex that A$AP was her favorite “rapper” (that word again). Over a decade later, that answer seems to have changed to Quavo, with the two sharing the kind of intimacy and sexual tension that “National Anthem” exuded.

    But while “Tough” has the same meandering, plotless nature of other Del Rey videos from recent years (including “Norman Fucking Rockwell/Bartender/Happiness Is A Butterfly,” “Let Me Love You Like A Woman,” “Arcadia” and “Blue Banisters”), “National Anthem” was narrative and statement-heavy. Even “Summertime Sadness,” with its lesbian suicide plot, was as well—especially compared to this. What Del Rey seems to be saying, as usual, is that she lives in a willfully insulated bubble wherein America isn’t the festering turd it’s become, but a place of natural beauty to believe in. Quavo, for whatever reason (maybe sexual interest), is along for the ride—even though he’s the one driving the fossil fuel-emitting Hummer.

    As for Del Rey, she’s been trying to manifest a collaboration with Migos for quite some time before Takeoff was shot dead in 2022. The next best thing for her, one supposes, is this: Quavo (maybe Cardi B wouldn’t have wanted Offset to work with her based on how “cozy” this video looks). And it seems Quavo was happy to let Del Rey take the wheel for the most part on lyrics, with the majority smacking of Del Reyisms such as, “Tough like the stuff in your grandpa’s glass” and “I’m cut like a diamond shinin’ in the rough”—this latter lyric not only being a roundabout tie-in to A$AP Rocky with its Rihanna nod (“Shine bright like a diamond”), but also a callback to her Marilyn-inspired inflection on “National Anthem” when she asks, “Um, do you think you’ll buy me lots of diamonds?” Indeed, as she sits in a meadow-like setting with Quavo sensually fingering his necklace, it feels like that’s the question she’s internally verbalizing.

    In another round of scenes, Del Rey and Quavo sit on a porch, the latter in a rocking chair and the former sitting on his lap while strumming a guitar (again, it’s some loose part of her country rebrand). Around the two-minute-twenty-second mark, the video’s tack shifts into something decidedly “American Pie”-like—meaning the Madonna video from 2000 wherein director Philipp Stölzl shows scenes of “average” Americans throughout, often alongside Madonna dancing with unchoreographed gusto in front of a giant American flag (Madonna was touting that emblem of the U.S. long before Del Rey). Much of the video was, in fact, filmed in the Southern United States. Because that’s where people tend to aim their camera when they want to show the “real” America.

    Del Rey and Quavo, too, proceed to show their viewers “slice of life” instants showcasing the same kinds of “average” Americans (though slightly less interesting than the ones Madonna drummed up). This includes a man mowing his lawn, two men lighting up cigars, a woman sitting on a chair with her pregnant belly exposed, a man’s entirely tattooed back, Lana standing next to a shotgun-toting man with a gray beard (more signs of her Republican nature) and a little boy rubbing his eyes while standing on the grass. In short, if this is America, it’s unclear why Del Rey and Quavo are doing their best to romanticize it. But hey, like LDR says, “Life’s gonna do what it does/Sure as the good Lord’s up above.” Except that “the Lord” being up above is hardly sure at all.

    Parading the “iconography” of America—including a house with a giant cross proudly displayed on the exterior and a slew of Mack (or Mack-adjacent) trucks they pass by on the road—Quavo and Del Rey wander the South like a crimeless version of Holly Sargis (Sissy Spacek) and Kit Carruthers (Martin Sheen) in Badlands. And in the final scenes, they switch into a different vehicle: a red Chevy (“Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry”) pickup truck with dice hanging from the rearview mirror (very “LDR aesthetic” of course).

    Del Rey’s “road obsession” has taken many turns (pun intended) over the years, and it’s certainly made her the “Queen of Cars” even over Charli XCX. The motif of constantly wandering in search of a sense of place is, to be sure, a decidedly American feeling. Thus, Del Rey sings, “Here, say where you come from/It’s not what you wanna do, it’s what you’re gonna do/Now, it’s no place to run.” Tapping into the idea of how Americans are taught to “make something of themselves,” regardless of where they’re from, Del Rey ignores the reality that where you come from does matter in terms of securing what the U.S. deems “prosperity.” Where and how you grew up affects everything about your life trajectory in the U.S. More and more, Del Rey is fond of perpetuating an image of herself as a “simple country girl” who grew up in poverty in Lake Placid. Hence the line, “If you come from where you come, then you were born tough.” Try telling that to someone like Del Rey’s “bestie,” Taylor Swift, who grew up in a comfortable, dream-supported environment (yet has the gall to say, “You wouldn’t last an hour in the asylum where they raised me”). But the truth is, you’re not exactly tough if you come from a place like Scarsdale. Nonetheless, Del Rey wants to deny her own non-tough roots, therefore can’t see something like that (perpetuating her “pulled myself up by my own bootstraps” “lore” in a similar way on “Let Me Love You Like A Woman” when she announces, “I come from a small town, how ‘bout you?”). Plus, with Quavo by her side for assured “tough credibility,” Del Rey is certain no one will argue with her about that moniker.

    And yet, a certain headline from The Cut in 2014 comes to mind when thinking about how LDR bills herself as “tough,” and that is: “Self-Proclaimed Gangsta Lana Del Rey Shops With Her Parents.” An act about as “gangsta” as going on a scenic nature drive, making idyllic stops along the way. But since “gangsta” is all about projecting the image of “toughness,” maybe Del Rey can still subscribe to it based on the scenes and people she’s associating with in “Tough.” And what’s more American than projecting an image built on smoke and mirrors?

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    Genna Rivieccio

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