Whatcha gonna do with all that rant?

So, Hua Hsu over at Slate thinks that the Black-Eyed Peas song “My Humps” is objectively horrible. Not just awesomely bad (which, I guess, is intended to mean that it’s so bad it’s good, just bad. As in stupid. As in the kind of thing that makes you want to turn the radio off. So, for comparison, like that “My Heart Will Go On” song from Titanic.

At least, that’s how I have to interpret this rant against what is, really, a very catchy and fun tune. One that I kinda bought the album for, so I could roll down the windows, turn up the volume, and make the commute over 520 at least mildly entertaining on a summer evening.

Seriously.

I drive these brothers crazy,
I do it on the daily,
They treat me really nicely,
They buy me all these icies.
Dolce & Gabbana,
Fendi and NaDonna
Karan, they be sharin’
All their money got me wearin’ fly
But I ain’t askin,
They say they love my ass ‘n,
Seven Jeans, True Religion’s,
I say no, but they keep givin’
So I keep on takin’
And no I ain’t taken
We can keep on datin’
I keep on demonstrating.

Seriously, what girl wouldn’t love singing that. It’s catchy, and, not unlike wearing stilletos and red lipstick is a nice little opportunity to revel in the power of feminine wiles. Because, hell ya, I wanna drive these brothers wild.

Now, how can you possible say a song as fun as that (with a good ass-shaking rhythm, I should add) is bad? Certainly how can you say it’s even in a class of badness anywhere approaching:

Love was when I loved you
One true time I hold to
In my life we’ll always go on

Near, far, wherever you are
I believe that the heart does go on
Once more you open the door
And you’re here in my heart
And my heart will go on and on

There is some love that will not
go away

You’re here, there’s nothing I fear,
And I know that my heart will go on
We’ll stay forever this way
You are safe in my heart
And my heart will go on and on

Or, for that matter:

Backstreet
Check it huh
Hey
Let’s talk about one, baby
Ya gotta hear me out
Do you really want to be the last to know
What it’s all about
Let’s talk about who you say
Is the essence of your life
But he’ll eat you up from inside slow
And then he doesn’t wanna know
I’m tellin you he’ll eat you up from inside
And then he doesn’t wanna know

That’s bad song writing. But

I met a girl down at the disco
She said hey hey hey yeah lets go
I can be ya baby, you could be my honey
Lets spend time not money
And mix your milk with my cocoa puff
milky milky cocoa
mix your milk with my cocoa puff
Milky milky
Riiiiight…

is funny. And danceable.

I bet you Hua Hsu doesn’t even like the Beastie Boys. I can imagine him complaining about the song “Girls!” being offensive and stupid, rather that the sort of thing you turn way up, roll down the windows, and sing at the top of your lungs:

Girls – to do the dishes
Girls – to clean up my room
Girls – to do the laundry
Girls – and in the bathroom
Girls – that’s all I really want is girls
Two at a time – I want girls
With new wave hairdos – I want girls
I ought to whip out my – girls, girls, girls, girls,girls,
girls, girls, girls,
girls!

6 thoughts on “Whatcha gonna do with all that rant?”

  1. Not a girl here, not even wearing stilettos or red lipstick, but I still revel in the power of this song. Singing and moving my humps. Hmmmm, err…, yes, with mates on public transport after a waterfall of vodka…

  2. Not a girl here, not even wearing stilettos or red lipstick, but I still revel in the power of this song. Singing and moving my humps. Hmmmm, err…, yes, with mates on public transport after a waterfall of vodka…

  3. “I like the way they walk and it’s chill to hear them talk.
    I can always make them smile, from White Castle to da Nile.”

    Hua Hua is like the background vocals. dum dum dum dum dumdum dum dum dum dumdum dum dum dum dumdum dum dum dum dum dum.

  4. For some it is sexist for others it is a battle cry and still others simply call it music. For me it is all part of the ongoing dance and play between the seducer and the seduced. It isn’t always about sex, but it is always about power.

    Only those who believe themselves to be powerless are threatened enough to protest the braggadocio of those with the microphone. The rest of us are simply admiring the huevos and waiting our turn with the mic.

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