ReportWire

Tag: Shakira music videos

  • “9 to 5” With An Edge (That Is To Say, “Mexican Style”): Shakira Sticks It to The Man in “El Jefe” Featuring Fuerza Regida

    “9 to 5” With An Edge (That Is To Say, “Mexican Style”): Shakira Sticks It to The Man in “El Jefe” Featuring Fuerza Regida

    [ad_1]

    Inaugurating, however briefly, her regional Mexican music era, Shakira brings us yet another single designed to prepare us for her long-awaited twelfth album. And yet, if Shakira has conditioned us to understand one thing about her, it’s to expect the unexpected in whatever musical route she decides to take. Because who knew something like a corrido would be next in her wheelhouse. At the same time, after such varied-in-style hits as “Shakira: Bzrp Music Sessions, Vol. 53,” “TQG,” “Acróstico” and “Copa Vacía” earlier this year, nothing Shakira releases should come as a surprise. The only real shock being if she didn’t manage to release a bop…or a song that didn’t feature someone else on it (in this case, Mexican group Fuerza Regida). And this one not only delivers on that front, but also, let’s call it, the People’s Liberation Front (no relation to the organization named as such in countries such as Sri Lanka and Ethiopia). And, yes, like Beyoncé’s anti-work anthem, “Break My Soul,” Shakira is also coming from a place of having never really worked the kind of soul-breaking job she refers to in “El Jefe,” yet still does her best to sound as though she has (hence, the need for co-writers Edgar Barrera, Kevyn Cruz and Manuel Lorente). 

    But, in contrast to her erstwhile collaborator, Bey, Shakira is far more aggressive in her contempt for thankless, underpaid jobs and the overpaid fat cats who make work so unbearable for the other ninety-nine percent. Because she doesn’t sing a passing verse like, “And I just quit my job I’m gonna find new drive/Damn, they work me so damn hard/Work by nine, then off past five/And they work my nerves/That’s why I cannot sleep at night.” No, instead, the entire song is about work being a fucking scam/joke for anyone who isn’t in a position of power (usually as a result of birth lottery circumstances). And, talking of the nine to five schedule (increasingly outmoded at this juncture), Shakira officially outdoes the anti-The Man anthem that is Dolly Parton’s “9 to 5.” That’s right, it only took forty-three years for something as oppressor-despising (hidden behind a “jaunty” tone and rhythm) to come along. 

    What’s more, “El Jefe” mimics the narrative structure of “9 to 5” in terms of laying out all the rightful complaints from the beginning of the day. From the very moment one opens their eyes to the sound of the alarm that might as well be a death (of the soul) knell. So it is that Shakira opens “El Jefe” with lyrics that translate to: “7:30 the alarm has gone off/I want to be in bed/But it cannot be done/I take the kids at 9/The same coffee, the same kitchen/The same always, the same routine/Another shitty day/Another day at the office.” In 1980, Parton phrased that opening as, “Tumble out of bed/And stumble to the kitchen/Pour myself a cup of ambition/And yawn and stretch and try to come to life…/Out on the streets, the traffic starts jumpin’/For folks like me on the job from 9 to 5.”

    Parton then serves up the iconic chorus, “Workin’ 9 to 5/What a way to make a livin’/Barely gettin’ by/It’s all takin’ and no givin’/They just use your mind/And they never give you credit.” Shakira feels much the same as she sings, “I have a shitty boss who doesn’t pay me well/I arrive walking/And he in a Mercedes-Benz [again, Dolly correlation]/He has me as a recruit/The son of a bitch/You’re dreaming of leaving the neighborhood/You have everything to be a millionaire/Expensive tastes, the mentality/You only need the salary.”

    In the accompanying video, Shakira plays up the regional Mexican tone with a Texana aesthetic that comes complete with cowboy hat, cowboy boots, leather fringe skirt, bombastic belt and some zapateado stylings intermixed with her own renowned “hip work.” Directed by Jora Frantzis, who has already dabbled with Latina mamis in the past (i.e., directing videos for Jennifer Lopez and Cardi B), scenes of Shakira on a horse that taps its hooves to the beat (something that deserves a visual effects award because that can’t be real) are quickly interspersed with scenes of immigrants on a train making their way, presumably, to the U.S. border. Where, as Shakira describes, they’ll be met with working conditions that can best be described as glorified slavery. No wonder she’s quick to urge, “Stick it to the man” in between scenes of warehouse workers (played by Fuerza Regida members) carrying too many boxes on their shoulders (perhaps a dig at Amazon, as famed for its “low” prices as it is for never giving warehouse pickers a bathroom break). 

    Soon, we see Shakira and Fuerza Regida joining the other aspiring Americans on the back of a boxcar as Shakira continues to speak on her rage regarding racial and class inequality (for the former is directly related to the latter, particularly in “anyone can be anything” America). Shakira, too, seems well-versed in the fact that it’s just as Dolly said: “It’s a rich man’s game/No matter what they call it/And you spend your life/Putting money in his wallet.” Ergo, “What irony, what madness/This is torture/You kill yourself from dawn to dusk and you don’t even have a writing.” That last word a botched translation from “escritura,” which can also mean a deed (as in: to property) or a “document”/“papers” (as in: the legal “right” to be somewhere).

    For good measure, Shakira also adds another dig at Gerard Piqué by calling out his father with the insult, “They say there is no evil/That lasts more than a hundred years/But there is still my ex father-in-law who has not set foot in the grave.” So much for a temporary peace between the two exes (yet perhaps it’s only fair considering Shakira took aim earlier this year at her ex mother-in-law through a carefully-curated witch display). But this song has nothing to do with getting revenge on an ex (unless it’s an ex-boss). No, it’s all in service of buttressing the proletariat…or at least comforting them by assuring that someone is very aware of what they’re going through (even if from their own perch on Millionaires’ Row). 

    Which is why, at the one-minute, forty-four-second mark of the video, things take a turn toward the indoors, with Frantzis focusing on the fat cats (literally fat, obviously) themselves as they sit at a banquet table. And what’s on the menu? Why, the proletariat, of course! A.k.a. Jesus Ortiz Paz’s (Fuerza Regida’s lead singer) head on a platter, John the Baptist-style. What the fat cats hadn’t bargained for (just as Franklin Hart hadn’t bargained for Violet, Doralee or Judy), however, was a calmly irate Shakira showing up to walk on their table and approach the so-called “jefe” at the head of it with an expression that says, “I’m the jefe now, bitch.”

    As for the mention of her former-turned-current nanny, Lili Melgar, by declaring, “This song’s for you/They didn’t pay you compensation,” well, that’s another direct hit at Piqué. Who apparently fired Melgar after she tipped Shakira off to a “third presence” visiting their house all the time before she finally clocked the suspiciously diminished contents of the jam jar. 

    The last shot in the video returns to a defiant-looking Shakira (dressed in her all-red cowgirl ensemble—because, sooner or later, the oppressed becomes the oppressor, right?) on her horse as she stares into the camera. As though daring the jefes of the world to try to keep her or her “kind” down. But, no matter who you are or where you’re from (to paraphrase the Backstreet Boys), there is always common ground to be had in the shared experience of how much work blows chunks (at pretty much any pay grade, to boot). 

    For even the white men known as Blink-182 once said, “Work sucks, I know.” And so does Shakira. Or at least she can “get into the headspace” of knowing, if “El Jefe” is any indication. Thus, the only thing that could be more triumphant than this anti-work anthem is an official mashup (à la “Numb/Encore”) of it with “9 to 5.”

    [ad_2]

    Genna Rivieccio

    Source link

  • Shakira Is A Mermaid of the Future in the “Copa Vacía” Video Featuring Manuel Turizo

    Shakira Is A Mermaid of the Future in the “Copa Vacía” Video Featuring Manuel Turizo

    [ad_1]

    While Shakira might have reverted to “retro” 00s sensibilities in imagining “the future” with 2022’s “Te Felicito” featuring Rauw Alejandro, her latest single, “Copa Vacía,” has a more realistic take on what the years ahead will hold. And that is: a lot of fucking trash. Everywhere. Trash that will particularly affect marine life. And, regardless of Shakira portraying herself as the “mythical creature” of a mermaid to get that point across, it works quite effectively. Indeed, it’s probably precisely because she’s a mermaid that the imagery of her placed against the backdrop of what amounts to a sandy landfill is so potent. After all, people only seem to care about helping other life forms when they’re “attractive,” this being referred to in such terms as “lookism,” “the beauty bias” and “speciesism.” Plus, the jarring sight of Mermaid Shakira in this harsh environment is designed to complement a single about yearning and lack of fulfillment—sexually, in case you couldn’t guess. Thus, being resigned to a dried-up, post-apocalyptic landscape makes plenty of sense. But, for the rest of us, there won’t be much symbolism in the imagery…it’s just going to be full-stop dried-up and post-apocalyptic without the “benefit” of “looking mermaid hot” like Shakira. Everyone will certainly be hot though, burning up in a world that’s risen +two degrees Fahrenheit in temperature. And who knows if anyone will have time for lust/worrying about a “copa vacía” with constant thoughts of survival/being a climate refugee on the brain?

    With “Copa Vacía” translating to “Empty Cup,” Shakira as a mermaid with no water to soak in lends added poetry to the aesthetic choice. Building on her endless list of male collaborators of late is Manuel Turizo (a seeming Maluma lookalike [at least in this video]—maybe there’s something in the water in Colombia). Joining the ranks of Shakira collaborators past, including the aforementioned Alejandro on “Te Felicito” and Ozuna on “Monotonía,” Turizo is the one who jumps into the body of water Shakira eventually washes up from in other scenes that we see of her. While underwater, Turizo looks around to take in the fact that Shakira is swimming away from him, perhaps having realized that she’s only able to quench her thirst elsewhere (hence, suddenly being in an ocean as opposed to on dry, trash-filled land—where co-directors Shakira and Jaume de Laiguana initially set the video’s stage). But wait, it’s not over yet, for she foolishly decides to circle him (almost tauntingly), therefore giving Turizo the chance to capture her in his net.

    As he drags her through the “mud” (literally!), we soon see that her fate is not much better than Madison’s (Daryl Hannah) in Splash after she’s captured by government agents to be studied and dissected. But, at least, in that case, they were giving her some attention. Whereas Shakira exists in a barely-half-full tank of water, gazing out and pressing her hand to the glass as Turizo ignores her. And plays his video games (as Lana would point out). So while he might think he’s been “kind enough” to “rescue” her from her former existence, he’s actually created a worse one for her at present. Because, yes, humans tend to create worse environments for every creature that’s meant to be “wild.” Intercut scenes of Shakira lying down on the trash-filled beach again are accompanied with being in her “natural” environment on a rock (à la Ariel) or positively drenched (she wishes this wetness extended “down below,” of course) beneath a waterfall as Turizo stands next to her—not doing much to help a bitch out on feeling wanted. Desired. With the topic of sexual frigidity often being one that’s directed at women as yet another means to berate them, it seems worth reminding the latter gender that the surest sign a man is cheating is his sudden coldness toward your body. His general “meh” reaction. So it is that Shakira laments, “Why don’t you want/When I want/You are colder than the month of January/I ask for heat and you give nothing but ice, oh” (in Spanish, that’s: “Por qué no quieres/Cuando yo quiero/Estás más frío/Que el mes de enero/Pido calor y no das más que hielo, oh”). Lana Del Rey would have sung that as, “Oooh, you’re cold as ice baby/But when you’re nice baby/It’s so amazing in every way.”

    As for the frío man Shakira accuses in “Copa Vacía,” it obviously feels like another pointed jab at her ex, Gerard Piqué, who has lately been a muse for such indelible “fuck you” bops as “Shakira: BZRP Music Sessions #53” and “TQG.” To be sure, Piqué must have been quite thawed on his erstwhile “partner” to have prompted these feelings. And yeah, they clara…mente thawed because he had younger snatch to turn to for his own “thirst quenching” needs. To that point, Shakira sings, “I’ve been thirsty for a while/I don’t know why I’m left wanting more/Wanting to drink from an empty cup.” Perhaps because many of us are slow on the uptake with regard to learning our lesson. That someone isn’t going to change no matter how hard you want them to, or how hard you romanticize the initial phases of your relationship with them. Which is surely what Shakira was doing before she found out about Clara Chia Marti. While her father was in the hospital.

    In contrast to Piqué, however, Turizo comes across as more empathetic, not to mention actually interested making the relationship work. So it is that he offers his counterpoint perspective, “As if I didn’t feel anything/Now you look at me so different/Me swimming against the current/You have me on the street looking for/With what to fill this emptiness that you feel/I am not a mechanic/But I try to fix it and it doesn’t work/Reviving a heart that does not react/I don’t want to try it with someone else.” Shakira then explains, “Your kisses are salt water/I drink, and nothing calms me down/I wait for you and you disappoint me/It does not work like this.”

    All the while, her essential sense of mermaid freedom is stripped away from her the more hopeless and crestfallen she becomes. So it is that, by the end, we see her being strung up by a chain with her hands bound, a bland beige-ish tarp behind her to intensify the overall colorlessness of a world without love and sex (the world we’re quickly coming to know amid the exacerbating conditions of climate change). The final scene again shows her in the trash-laden, mud-like sand. For this is the mermaid vision of the future. Not just experiencing a love drought, but an actual one as well. The “empty cup”—an emblem of no water from which to drink—of the song also mirroring the according landscapes we see throughout the video. And what we’ll see as the next decade wears on.

    [ad_2]

    Genna Rivieccio

    Source link

  • Shakira Just Knocked Every Post-Breakup Diss Track Into the Toilette

    Shakira Just Knocked Every Post-Breakup Diss Track Into the Toilette

    [ad_1]

    If anyone ever wanted proof that you don’t fuck with a Colombiana woman, Shakira is here to provide it in the form of a new single with DJ Bizarrap. While it has no specific title, other than “BZRP Music Sessions #53” or, more unofficially, “Pa’ Tipos Como Tú,” maybe that’s for the best—at least for her ex, Gerard Piqué, who might have ended up getting the song named after him in some fashion or another had Shakira decided to title it right now. For it’s all directed very specifically at him. And while Shakira had two other singles this year that gave plenty of hints about the heartache that resulted from her eleven-year long relationship with Piqué, they were nowhere near this savage.

    It all started, innocently enough, with little “hints” already manifest in the drenched-in-sarcasm “Te Felicito” (a.k.a. “I Congratulate You”), released in April 2022. Then came “Monotonía” in October. The latter was part of her ephemeral “sad girl” phase in addressing the betrayal Piqué inflicted by leaving her for a now twenty-three-year-old named Clara Chía. Featuring Ozuna, the video takes place in a supermarket where Shakira, looking as “disheveled” as she’s able to, stoically appears in front of the camera. We then get a close-up shot on her teary eyes as she declares, “It wasn’t your fault, nor mine/It was the monotony’s fault.” The rest of the Jaume de la Iguana-directed (or rather, co-directed…with Shakira) video shows our crestfallen protagonist losing her heart altogether when Ozuna blows it out of her chest with a bazooka. This, to be honest, is far more brutal than what SZA does to her ex in “Kill Bill.” But then, men do tend to be more brutal in general (despite spouting that line about hell having no fury like a woman scorned) so…

    In keeping with that inhumaneness, Shakira’s heart is still beating on the ground as she reaches out to pick it back up. The only truly “accusatory” thing she says of Piqué being, “You left me because of your narcissism.” Of course, we all know he really left for the cliché reason so many men do: younger snatch. In any case, Shakira tries to get her heart to the safety of a lockbox without it being further damaged. Unfortunately, it gets stepped on a few more times along the way before she can secure it inside the bank vault and throw away the key. Now that she has, it’s apparent she’s in her full-on beast mode part of the recovery process.

    That’s why she’s quick to lead with the soccer-alluding shade, “So much talk of being a champion and when I needed you the most/You gave me the worst version of you.” A version that dips out for a woman half Shakira’s age, hence her mathematical insult, “I’m worth two twenty-two year olds.” Although the video/recording session might be simple in its aesthetics, Shakira does furnish us with the special effect of her eyes glowing like a loba’s when she taunts, “A she wolf like me isn’t for rookies/A she wolf like me isn’t for guys like you.” Those who know Shakira’s music will of course realize she’s referencing her 2009 banger, “She Wolf.” Which Piqué has invoked big time with his behavior.

    To mix up some of the visual “monotonía” at the forty-seven-second mark, Shakira offers major “Take On Me” vibes by emulating A-ha’s sketched animation look from said video as she repeats, “Pa’ tipos como tú” before further reminding, “I was out of your league/That’s why you’re with someone just like you.” A direct hit at both of the basic parties involved. In case there was any confusion about why Shakira decided to make this song, she sings, “This is for you to be mortified/To chew and swallow, swallow and chew/I won’t get back with you/Not if you cry/Not even if you beg me.”

    Certain to exonerate herself from any culpability with regard to his current lack of favorability among the media, Shakira notes, “It’s not my fault if they criticize you.” After all, the only thing he had to do was not cheat on her. Or at least not make her move to Barcelona where it would end up costing her very literally with the Spanish government, now accusing her of tax fraud and evasion. All because she wanted to be supportive of Piqué’s career…even though not moving to the U.S. was more of a burden on hers. Shakira herself told Elle in the October 2022 issue, “I put my career in second gear and I came to Spain, to support him so he could play football and win titles. And it was a sacrifice of love.” A sacrifice that majorly backfired.

    In the same interview, Shakira had stated, “I think that those [breakup] details are somehow too private to share, at least at this very moment—everything is so raw and new. I can only say that I put everything I had into this relationship and my family.” Well, it ain’t too private now, with “Pa’ Tipos Como Tú” garnering over sixty million views within twenty-four hours of its release. What’s more, Shakira even commits the ultimate taboo (especially in Latin culture) by bringing Piqué’s mother into it with the complaint, “You left me with your mom as a neighbor, the press at my door and a debt with the Treasury.” That last reference being to her aforementioned tax debacle with the Spanish government. A debacle that, again, wouldn’t have even come to roost in Shakira’s life were it not for Piqué’s need to live in Barcelona.

    It’s all a very far cry from 2017’s “Me Enamoré,” an upbeat love song written about Piqué for the El Dorado album, complete with a video in which he appears at the end, smiling at her with a grin that can now only be described as “Cheshire cat.” But Shakira’s the only feral feline in this latest song, having caught the canary without any abashment. For when a woman is hurt, all she can do is weaponize that pain into anger. Channel it into something productive a.k.a. artistic. It’s the most magical type of alchemy. Hence, Shakira announcing, “You thought you’d hurt me, but you made me stronger.” A line that echoes Christina Aguilera on “Fighter” when she says, “Makes me that much stronger/Makes me work a little bit harder/It makes me that much wiser/So thanks for making me a fighter.” And even the sentiments of Destiny’s Child on “Survivor” are there, namely when Beyoncé defiantly sings, “You thought that I’d be weak without you/But I’m stronger/You thought that I’d be broke without you/But I’m richer/You thought that I’d be sad without you/I laugh harder.”

    Shakira delivers a subsequent coup de grâce with, “Women no longer cry/Women get paid.” And this has certainly been an accurate take on the steady commodification of female musicians’ breakups—running the gamut from Taylor Swift to Olivia Rodrigo to Miley Cyrus to Ariana Grande to Lana Del Rey. Shakira was part of the omnipresent trend long before this group, however, with many songs on her first English “crossover” album, Laundry Service, spotlighting the behavior of cads. This is notable on one track in particular, “Objection (Tango).” As though presaging her fate with Piqué, Shakira opens that single with the verse, “It’s not her fault that she’s so irresistible/But all the damage she’s caused isn’t fixable/Every twenty seconds you repeat her name/But when it comes to me you don’t care/If I’m alive or dead.”

    But Piqué definitely cares that Shakira’s alive (and kicking) after hearing this track. For she doesn’t relent with the shade when adding the double meaning of, “She’s got the name of a good person, clear…ly (said as “clara…mente”). The word for “clearly” in Spanish being muy convenient for trolling the name of Pique’s concubine herself. Of course, some would fault Shakira for bringing “the other woman” into it, when it’s the man who led his own dick astray. But Clara Chía was well-aware of Piqué’s status as a “spoken for” man with two children. A so-called “family man.” So no, Shakira is not sparing her either as she spits, “She’s just like you/For guys like you” and “You traded in a Ferrari for a Twingo/You traded in a Rolex for a Casio.”

    Shakira further condemns Piqué’s stupidity for having thrown away what could have been a lifetime of love and family for what will likely be a drop in the bucket fling by adding, “So much time at the gym/But maybe work out your brain a bit too.” Alas, the dick always wins when it comes to getting the “workout.” In the end, Shakira seems to decide that maybe she was the one engaging in stupidity by ever thinking that Piqué was on her level, concluding, “That’s what you’ve settled for/Someone just like you.” Carrie Bradshaw (Sarah Jessica Parker) once made a similar assessment when she branded Natasha (Bridget Moynahan) as a “simple girl” and not a “Katie girl” (it’s a The Way We Were reference)—this being why Big (Chris Noth) married her instead of sticking with Carrie. Indeed, Shakira is far from the only “complicated” woman to have been thrown over for someone “more manageable” (read: more malleable, therefore usually younger than the man in question). But she might be the only woman (or at least among the few) to have gotten a chance to say her piece on the matter so ferociously.

    Fist bumping DJ Bizarrap at the end of the video, it’s Shakira’s equivalent of a mic drop. And if one were in Piqué and Chía’s position, they might reconsider showing their faces in public. At least until the next fire breakup song comes out (isn’t Olivia Rodrigo soon to grace us with another album?). Though it will surely be a challenge to top this one.

    [ad_2]

    Genna Rivieccio

    Source link