ReportWire

Tag: Olivia Rodrigo Guts tracklist

  • Less Sophomoric Efforts Appear on Olivia Rodrigo’s Guts (Spilled)

    Less Sophomoric Efforts Appear on Olivia Rodrigo’s Guts (Spilled)

    [ad_1]

    After releasing four of the five songs that now appear on the Guts (Spilled) edition of Guts by way of hidden tracks on different versions of the album, Olivia Rodrigo has at last made those songs easily available to all—and she’s even thrown in an extra one for good measure (“so american”). Of course, it probably makes the people who bothered to collect all four editions of Guts in order to hear each hidden track feel a little bit used, but such is the nature of capitalism (just ask Taylor Swift, whose many versions of albums featuring different cover art or songs would be enough to drive any fan mad). 

    While Guts, overall, sounds like what can best be described as Sour: Part Deux, the additions of these particular tracks lend a less sophomoric feel to the record, even if many of them are still rooted in the same old “Olivia problems”—which is to say, she’s been deeply affected and/or hurt by a boy (or “man-child,” as Lana Del Rey would say). Except that, in the case of the first song that kicks off the round of bonus tracks, she’s been deeply affected/hurt by a boy’s ex. Obsessing over her endlessly and all the ways in which she’s probably superior. Hence, the song title: “obsessed” (which, it bears repeating, Mariah Carey has a monopoly on as much as she does Christmas). 

    The shorter (two minutes and one second) “girl i’ve always been” seems a continuation, in its way, of “obsessed” in that it finds Rodrigo insisting that she’s always been this way: obsessive, maniacal, “too much,” etc. And yet, the boy in question would dare to tell her, “Baby doll, you have changed.” To which Rodrigo replies, “I’m nothin’ if I’m not consistent/You knew everything you were gettin’.” The folksy meets alt-rock musical tone channels, in certain respects, a tincture of Kesha on Rainbow (e.g., “Hunt You Down,” “Godzilla” and Spaceship”) and Lana Del Rey in her post-Honeymoon era. Indeed, Del Rey is often channeled lyrically by Rodrigo within these bonus tracks. For example, the way she says, “I get down with crooked men” recalls the manner in which Del Rey declares, “I get down to beat poetry” on “Brooklyn Baby.” And then, as though to prove the adage that everything is a copy of a copy, Rodrigo wields the phrase, “I am a candle in the wind.” Although originally a phrase immortalized by Elton John, Del Rey recently took to adopting it on “Mariners Apartment Complex” (“I ain’t no candle in the wind”) and “Yosemite” (“No more candle in the wind/Not like before when I was burning at both ends”). Elsewhere, Rodrigo shrugs, “I can say I’m a perfect ten/But I am the girl I’ve always been,” which seems like a loose riff on the “She a ten, but…” meme. 

    A more “esoteric” (to those too daft to know) reference that Rodrigo is channeling on this song (unwittingly or not) is Edie Brickell & The New Bohemians’ “What I Am.” Her higher-pitched tone and sarcastic snarkiness easily harken back to this classic “alternative” hit from 1988. But, ultimately, Rodrigo must return to her go-to for emulations, Taylor Swift. At least with a song title such as “scared of my guitar,” which sounds a lot like the Swift title, “Teardrops on My Guitar.” And yes, there are certain thematic similarities in that Rodrigo discusses how the only “person” she can be completely honest with about her feelings is her guitar. And the reason she’s scared of it is because she doesn’t want to talk herself out of the idea that she’s “really happy” with the dude who treats her like shit (thus, “Perfect, easy, so good to me/So why’s there a pit in my gut in the shape of you?”). The slow, stripped down track is in keeping with other “whiny bitch” anthems Rodrigo has become known for (e.g., “traitor” and, more recently, “logical”) and perhaps one-ups Swift’s “Teardrops on My Guitar” on that front (and on the front where it’s not a country song). 

    Explaining why she’s so scared of her guitar, Rodrigo sings, “‘Cause it cuts right through to the heart/Yeah, it knows me too well so I got no excuse/I can’t lie to it the same way that I lie to you.” And to herself, for that matter. As for Swift, she pronounces,“‘Cause he’s the reason for the teardrops on my guitar/The only one who’s got enough of me to break my heart.” Each singer-songwriter turning to her only true confidant—the guitar—when things get messy in matters of romance. What’s more, both tracks build on a rare genre in music: women talking about their guitars. The only other singer to do that with notable panache was Amy Winehouse on “Cherry.” 

    The following song, “stranger,” also has some Swiftian parallels, lyrically speaking (though certainly not with its “ramblin’ man” musical sound). Namely, a parallel to “I Forgot That You Existed.” Granted, Rodrigo isn’t quite as cold in this song (not the way Swift is with her chirpy announcement, “I forgot that you existed/And it isn’t hate, it isn’t love/It’s just indifference”). For instance, she admits, “God knows that I am the girl I am because of you,” which feels like a biting homage to “girl i’ve always been.” Rodrigo even goes full-tilt Del Rey yet again with the lyric, “I’ll love you till the end of time” (someone’s been listening to “Blue Jeans”). And then, for the coup de grâce, “You’re just a stranger I know everything about” channels Gotye’s lyrics, “Now you’re just somebody that I used to know.” But sometimes, that can be for the best. For, like Billie Eilish on “Happier Than Ever” or Angela Chase (Claire Danes) saying she woke up one morning feeling like Jordan Catalano (Jared Leto) had been surgically removed from her heart, Rodrigo describes, “I woke up this morning and I sat up straight in bed/I had the strangest feeling of this weight off of my chest/I hadn’t felt that hopeful since the day that you left.”

    Rodrigo also seems hopeful on the final addition to Guts (making it Guts [Spilled]), “so american.” Not only continuing the motif of “all-american bitch” (both songs now functioning as “american”-related bookends to the record), Rodrigo opts for Springsteen’s sonic vibe again (the same way she does on “love is embarrassing”). And why shouldn’t she when she wants to give off the aura of being “so american”?

    Here, too, though, she’s serving up major Swift comparisons in that she’s also fallen for a British “man” (Louis Partridge, who’s about to come up in the world by appearing in the Alfonso Cuarón series, Disclaimer). One who Rodrigo makes mention of marrying when she sings, “Oh God, it’s just not fair of him/To make me feel this much/I’d go anywhere he goes/And he says I’m so American/Oh God, I’m gonna marry him.” That mention of “I’d go anywhere he goes” also coming across like Ariana Grande on Eternal Sunshine’s “imperfect for you” when she says, “Now I just can’t go where you don’t go.”

    It’s all a lot of pressure to put on a bloke, British or otherwise (“otherwise,” in this case, being a Munchkin). Something Swift herself must know about after writing “Paper Rings” and “London Boy.” Having clearly had her own fill (sexual innuendo intended) of Brits, Swift’s fine with being “so american” if one of her upcoming songs, “So Long, London,” is an indication. All the more reason for Rodrigo to say hello to it then.

    [ad_2]

    Genna Rivieccio

    Source link

  • Olivia Rodrigo and the Myth of “Kennedy Class,” Or: The Kennedy Fallacy

    Olivia Rodrigo and the Myth of “Kennedy Class,” Or: The Kennedy Fallacy

    [ad_1]

    In keeping with the tradition of elevating the Kennedys to the height of glamor in American politics (which should be telling of how “glamorous” American politics is), Olivia Rodrigo’s opening track for Guts, “all-american bitch,” wields a more than somewhat false simile. Specifically, “I got class and integrity/Just like a goddamn Kennedy, I swear.” But, unless this line is meant to be facetious (as many of the others in the song are), Rodrigo seems as misinformed as she was about which short story collection of Joan Didion’s she actually took inspiration from in coming up with the title for this song. For it’s no secret now (as it scarcely was then) that the Kennedy name/presidency was mired in crookedness (though only Marilyn can truly say if that applied to JFK’s dick as well as his code of ethics).

    From the rumors of John’s patriarch, Joseph Kennedy Sr., pulling the necessary strings to nudge then-mayor of Chicago Richard Daley to, let’s say, influence certain Cook County ballot boxes to using the Secret Service to ferry his various mistresses in and out of bedrooms, the Kennedy name—particularly in its primary association with “Jack”—hardly equates with class or integrity. And definitely not discretion. Indeed, JFK was about as discreet as Miss Monroe’s Jean Louis gown at his forty-fifth birthday celebration/Democratic Party fundraising gala in 1962. A spectacle that occurred mere months before JFK probably killed her (with some help from RFK, perhaps—and Teddy, per a slightly offensive 1985 SNL sketch in which Madonna plays Marilyn…this being only fair considering she would end up sleeping with John Jr.). A “conspiracy theory” that certainly wouldn’t be classy if it turned out to be true. But even if it’s not (which remains debatable to many), there are still plenty of other ways in which JFK hardly radiated class. The same went for the rest of his “clan” (as the Irish like to call families—particularly families of a storied and extensive lineage). Whether it was RFK’s own affair with Marilyn (and Jackie, for that matter) or Ted Kennedy leaving the scene of the crime he committed by driving himself and RFK campaign staffer Mary Jo Kopechne off the road while drunk.

    Yes, the infamous Chappaquiddick “incident” was one of the most peak examples of true “Kennedy class.” Kopechne, incidentally, was moved to enter the political realm in the first place after seeing the JFK inauguration speech during which he pontificated, “…my fellow Americans: ask not what your country can do for you—ask what you can do for your country.” Soon after, Kennedy would bilk the country and its highest office of all the privilege he could get out of it. And what Kopechne ended up doing “for Teddy” rather than her country, unfortunately, was dying. Though, of course, JFK could say the same.

    Luckily for Joe Sr., he still had plenty of children to bet on in the race called Building an American Dynasty. And at the top of the list after Joe Jr.’s death was Jack. A man whose penchant for instinctively sweeping any wrongdoing beneath the rug was not much better than what Teddy exhibited with Chappaquiddick (hence, taking hours to report the accident, and Mary Jo’s death along with it). But what was to be expected of the Kennedy sons when it came to shirking transparency at all costs? They learned from the best burier of secrets and shame, after all: Joe Sr. Better known as the brainchild behind pushing for his daughter, Rosemary, to get a lobotomy because she was prone to having seizures and erratic/violent mood swings. Being that this was 1941, slapping her with the then-current panacea of a lobotomy was, sadly, par for the course. She was just twenty-three when the procedure ended up incapacitating her and preventing her from speaking in a way that could be understood as anything other than gibberish. So what else would Joe Sr. do but clean up the “mess” he made by burying Rosemary’s existence (hiding her whereabouts for decades) in a Wisconsin institution for the disabled? Never mind that Joe Sr. was the one who did the disabling by trying to “fix” a person who wasn’t broken. Again, real fuckin’ “classy.”

    When it comes to the generation of children Joseph Sr. begat, it was apparent that they (particularly the men) were taking a page out of the lawless, devil-may-care playbook he had nonverbally written for them. Most notably when it came to his propensity for stepping outside of his marriage with a celebrity. Even at a time when the very concept of “celebrity” was still germinal in its movie star iteration. Nonetheless, during the silent movie era, there were few bigger precursors to major stardom than Gloria Swanson. And after being among the few to actually increase his bank balance in the wake of the 1929 stock market crash, Joe Sr. found himself orbiting the Hollywood scene, buying up stakes in studios and theaters to build on his “portfolio” of wealth.

    It was during this time that he encountered Swanson (in the days before she became Norma Desmond in Sunset Boulevard)…and proceeded to ruin her life. Not just by ousting her husband at the time, Henri de la Falaise, but also by defrauding her out of millions of dollars after becoming her business manager, in addition to her paramour. It was when Joe decided to gift her with a Cadillac and expense it on her production company’s account that she finally had to call him out. A move that reportedly sent him out the door without ever speaking to her again. With this in mind, John’s behavior toward Marilyn almost looks positively princely (Rodrigo influencer Lana Del Rey also seemed to think the same of his behavior toward Jackie, if the 2012 video for “National Anthem” is anything to go by).

    As the third generation of Kennedys (this being counted from the start of Joe Sr.) rose to prominence, it became quickly apparent that boorish behavior was something that ran in the blood. For JFK’s lone son, John Jr., had his own predilection for extramarital affairs. Only rather than being the married one in the scenario, he preferred to be the paramour. Specifically, to Madonna, who was “legally bound” to Sean Penn at the time of their tryst in 1988. Though Madonna might remind that Penn was a bit of a stick in the mud when it came to having any fun or lapping up the spotlight that went with the territory of being a major celebrity. Made more major by being “attached” to one of the biggest stars in the world. And rather than repelling JFK Jr., as it did Sean, the former seemed to be all the more titillated because of her Marilyn Monroe-level fame…not to mention aesthetic. And yes, Madonna was already well-known for paying homage to one of the twentieth century’s greatest icons early on in her career.

    Perhaps most famously when she re-created the famed “Diamonds Are A Girl’s Best Friend” sequence from Gentlemen Prefer Blondes for her “Material Girl” video in 1985. Funnily enough, it was Sean who met and fell in love with Madonna on that set—not John Jr. But that didn’t mean Marilyn’s specter wouldn’t still haunt their eventual relationship. After all, Jackie insisted John call off his romance not because Madonna was a married woman, but because she was way too much of a Marilyn fangirl. With “class” like this, Jackie really had become a full-blown Kennedy.

    Even those roundaboutly connected to the Kennedys couldn’t seem to avoid the taint of uncouthness and/or sexual impropriety. One such prime example being Andrew Cuomo. Married to Kerry Kennedy for fifteen years (from 1990 to 2005), his descent into shame may have taken decades to occur, but when it happened, oh how it happened big. In a scandal that broke at the end of 2020 (just when Cuomo was riding high on praise [most of it self-given] for his handling of the pandemic). In the end, Attorney General Letitia James released the findings of an independent investigative report that stated Cuomo sexually harassed eleven women during his tenure as New York governor (and who knows how many others before that?). Needless to say, some standard-issue male Kennedy bullshit rubbed off on him. That, and probably working within the Clinton administration. Bill himself being a “renowned” acolyte of JFK—managing to get his picture taken with the OG presidential philanderer in 1963.

    While marriage to a Kennedy might turn you corrupt (or at least cause you to compromise some of your erstwhile ironclad “principles) if you weren’t already, being a Kennedy male appeared to all but assure that you could be born into a “high class” and still have no class at all. Most markedly when it came to the treatment of women. Another case in point: William Kennedy Smith, the son of Jean Kennedy/nephew of JFK. Smith was acquitted of a rape charge in 1991 despite potential reams of evidence against him. Evidence that also would have included the testimonies of three women stating on record that Smith had sexually assaulted them in the past. Their testimonies were deemed by Judge Mary Lupo to be inadmissible. After all, American “justice” stipulates that you should only be on trial for the crime you’ve committed, not the many others you’ve committed in the past and gotten away with.

    Then there was Michael LeMoyne Kennedy, son to Bobby. He, too, was another predatory Kennedy. A fact that came to light in 1997, two years before John Jr. died in a plane crash. But Michael had his own crash to deal with after being accused of having an affair with his children’s babysitter. Which wouldn’t be quite so bad if the affair hadn’t started when she was the Lolita age of fourteen. In typical “Kennedy clout” fashion, Michael evaded being charged with statutory rape in part because the three polygraph tests he took were conducted by companies that the Kennedys directly employed. Perhaps the only form of “justice,” then, could come in the skiing accident that resulted in his death at the end of 1997.

    And so, when Olivia Rodrigo perpetuates this bizarre and totally inaccurate trope about the Kennedys having class and integrity, well, it doesn’t bode well for Gen Z unlearning the undeserved association the Kennedys seem to have with “sophistication” and “glamor” in American politics. Something Gloria Swanson, who suffered the fallout of being collateral damage when it came to Kennedy ambition and entitlement, was unafraid to speak on. But that was after decades of silence and being almost on the verge of death. For she would only confess to her affair with Joe Sr. just three years before she passed away, releasing her autobiography (ghostwritten, of course) in 1980.

    “He was not very sophisticated insofar as knowing the right thing to do,” Swanson would “diplomatically” tell Barbara Walters in a 1981 interview promoting the book, called Swanson on Swanson. She then ominously added, “This man accomplished anything he wanted, including putting his son in the White House.” It was an inherited trait, this bulldozing version of “class.” Except that, in America, having class doesn’t really mean you have to be magnanimous. In fact, quite the opposite—it just means you have to be willing to do whatever it takes to secure your fortune.

    [ad_2]

    Genna Rivieccio

    Source link