I’m used to enjoying problematic music — those songs you can’t get out of your head but nevertheless cringe when you think too hard about the lyrics. I’m not talking about, say, Train’s Soul Sister — which makes me wonder where they found a radio playing Mister Mister — 1986? — but ones that are actually sexist, racist, or abelist in some way. I’ve enjoyed these songs even though I know Seal’s not actually Crazy, no one is Turning Japanese, and I seriously doubt everyone was Kung Fu Fighting.
A few new songs have got me to that point where I’m bouncing along in the car while cursing the lyrics. I’ll explain.
First, we have Rude by Magic. There’s a lot to like about this song. It’s got a bouncy, reggae/ska sort of beat that reminds me of 1980's Madness. It’s fun. The problem with the song? Pretty much everything about the lyrics:
Knocked on your door, heart in my hand.
To ask you a question.
Because I know you’re an old fashioned man
Can I have your daughter for the rest of my life, say yes say yes
And then, when refused:
Why you gotta be so rude?
Don’t you know I’m human too?
Why you gotta be so rude?
I’m gonna marry her anyway
First off, just as a matter of form, when you ask a yes/no question, and they give you an honest no, and you reject their answer, you’re the one being rude, not them.
The larger issue here, of course, is the rampant patriarchy and misogyny. The whole framing of the question, and therefore the song— that the father has any say in his daughter’s marriage (assuming for the moment that the daughter is of legal age — if not, ew) is awful.
“I know you’re an old fashioned man” = “I know you think of your daughter as property.”
Even though the song is pretty clear those patriarchal views aren't going to stop the happy couple from marrying — the singer states he’s “going to marry her anyway,” the act of asking is supposed to placate the father’s conception of ownership, and ultimately, reinforce it.
This idea of daughter as property is central to Rude, and I can’t decide if that makes it better or worse than the next song: Geronimo by Sheppard. Geronimo is an uplifting song about taking the plunge, about diving through a metaphorical waterfall into love. I like the song. I like the fast rhythm and upbeat lyrics. I even think the repeated use of “bombs away” as a metaphor for taking a chance works.
But THE NAME. WHY. WHY. WHY NAME A SONG AFTER A DECEASED NATIVE AMERICAN. AND WHY REPEAT IT ELEVENTY-JILLION TIMES.
Geronimo, of course, was a real person, an Apache leader who, following the massacre of his mother, wife, and children at the hands of Mexican soldiers, fought a war against Mexican and U.S. authorities for three decades before surrendering to the U.S. in 1886.
Until his death in 1909, Geronimo was a prisoner of war, never repatriated, never allowed to return to the land of his birth.
His story doesn't end there. According to some accounts, Yale’s Skull & Bones Society stole Geronimo’s skull in 1918 and it has resided in their clubhouse ever since. (It should be noted that the club, through their lawyers, denies this).
The name “Geronimo” became slang for taking a risk after a 1939 movie about the Apache leader inspired U.S. Army paratroopers (serving in all-white units) to shout his name as they jumped out of planes, which is even more contemptible when you consider the Army’s role in imprisoning him and destroying his nation.
All of this is relevant. If you use the name, you get the history.
You also get the way people hearing the song take it. For example, they play this song all the time in my wife’s spin class. One of the women in the class makes the “woo-woo” noise while clapping her hand on her mouth when this song comes on. I wish I was joking.
Using Geronimo as a song name is completely unnecessary. Surely there are other words or phrases that would have worked just fine. Instead, they appropriated the name of a Native American prisoner of war. Classy.
Finally, what can one say about Honey I’m Good by Andy Grammer? I LOVE this song. It’s the kind of upbeat country/bluegrassy pop song that makes me want to dance, or move, or otherwise make a complete fool of myself. It’s great.
Except…let’s take a look at the lyrics. This whole song is about this guy, in a relationship or married, who’s at a bar without his wife/girlfriend, being hit on by sexy sexy ladies. He’s so drunk he’s about to forget his significant other and fuck one of hotties, but he’s going to refuse that last drink and stay faithful despite the temptation. And he’s patting himself on the back while he’s doing it. Jackass.
So many questions. For one: where’s your wife? Why are you out and she’s not? Now I don’t believe that just because you’re married to someone you have to go everywhere with them, but still. Did you leave her with the kids? Or did she shoo your cheating ass out of the house so her much more considerate lover can come over? Unclear.
For another: why are you so rough on the women in this bar? (If, indeed, there are any women here. I’m not convinced this entire song isn't an alcohol induced fantasy, the ravings of the drunk at the end of the bar hitting on the video poker machine.)
To you these women are merely collections of body parts- “long long legs” and “that ass” and you’d better not mean what I think you mean by “unholy grail.” These women come off as sex machines that, once turned down by you, will go hit on some other man until he gives it up:
Oh, I’m sure ya sure ya will make somebody’s night
But oh, I assure ya assure ya, it sure as hells not mine
It’s the virgin/whore dichotomy to a peppy country beat. You can’t party with these Jezebels because of your Madonna at home with your child; but you’re still out here exposing yourself to temptation. Asshole.
Sadly, of these songs, this one is BY FAR my favorite. It comes on the radio and I am PARTYING. Windows down, volume up, bouncing and singing along. It’s infectious like a case of really fun influenza.
I like these songs. I think it’s OK to like problematic music, as long as you’re aware of the problems. Still — the writers of these songs could have done so much better. As it is, when I hear the sexism, patriarchy, and racism come through on these songs, it grates. It takes me out of the song, and I end up complaining about the song as much as I end up enjoying it.
That’s the real problem here — if the songwriters had done a little better, tried a little harder, these songs could have been so much better; they could have had lyrics worthy of the music. Songs should be improved by their lyrics, not enjoyed despite them.
