Most of today’s musical inspiration coming from way below the belt

Rhydian Talbot/Staff Writer

I’ll give you a cookie if you guess the song I’m thinking of: it follows a verse-chorus-verse-chorus pattern, and the lyrics mention something about love or dancing (possibly both).

Stumped?

Well, how about this truth nugget: the singer uses such unique nicknames as “baby,” “girl,” or “boy,” and the lyrics contain some sort of innuendo, subtle or otherwise.

Alright, alright, you’ve twisted my arm; I’ll let you in on the chorus:

“Tik tok, party rock/But I love the way you lie/Don’t stop, keep it moving/With 10 million fireflies … baby.”

Come now, you know the song. It’s that mega hit, “Gettin’ Repetitive Up In Hurr,” as made famous by that one pop sensation who did that thing with the other thing and then ruminated in his 15 minutes of fame.

Oh, wait.

Excuse my lyrical mix-up.

Turning on the radio hindered my ability to think; I’m nursing a few mental cavities from all the current pop-confections rotting away my brain tissue.

My mind simply can’t absorb any more saccharine verses filled with sweet nothings, but alas, there’s little variation in today’s audio offerings.

To say radio hits have become one-note within the past decade would be a gross understatement: modern music has morphed into one never-ending verse composed of clichés, hollow lyrics and crude text.

Gone are the days of anthems that rally against injustice, of melodic social commentaries written with purpose; in its place are three-and-a-half-minute sound-bites of auto-tuned white noise intended to placate an impatient audience.

Every decade has produced a handful of anthems that uniquely represent the turmoil of the time: “We Shall Overcome,” the theme of the Civil Rights Movement in the ’60s; Bob Dylan’s “Hurricane,” a ’70s hit protesting racism in the imprisonment of black boxer Rubin “Hurricane” Carter; even the 80’s, bless it’s mulleted heart, jumped in on the action with “99 Red Balloons,” a tongue-in-cheek nod to the hysteria of the Cold War.

Even the very beginning of early 00’s produced some notable songs: P.O.D. penned “Youth of the Nation,” a rock requiem for the lives lost in the Columbine High School massacre, and The Black Eyed Peas had “Where Is the Love,” a tune contemplating violence, mass-media distortion and loss of morals.

In the past five years, however, music culture has lost that sense of urgency, forgoing the power of thought-provoking themes in favor of superficial topics containing lyrics as vapid as the people crooning them.

What meaning, pray tell, can someone extract from the entirety of Lady Gaga’s mega hit, “Bad Romance”?

Her Highness crafted a viral hit based off of a few meaningless sounds (“Rah, rah, ah, ah, ah”) and sashayed straight to the bank with it on 10-inch heels — the opening lines are nothing but monosyllabic grunts for Gaga’s sake!

And consider a more recent hit, “Moves Like Jagger” by Maroon Five: what in heaven’s name is the titular lyric referencing anyhow?

I certainly hope they’re not alluding to Mick Jagger of Rolling Stones fame.

If that was the case, and if you chose to comprehend the text literally, then the song is about a geriatric has-been grooving to one poorly-disguised innuendo.

Awkward.

As if hollow lyrics aren’t shameful enough, most songs now involve hollow lyrics about crass, lewd behavior.

Sex, drinking and partying – the magic trifecta of pop success — serve as the sole focus of half of the Top 40 hits.

What’s more, the artists of said hits embrace apathy and exert no effort in concealing the meaning of their explicit riffs.

No songstress takes her creative liberties quite as seriously as the Queen of the Obscene, Ke$ha, who pukes up distasteful lyrics inspired by last night’s rager in some back alley cesspool.

Her lyrical genius penned the likes of “Take It Off,” which features such choice prose as, “Got a water bottle full of whiskey in my handbag/Got my drunk text on/I’ll regret it in the morn’.”

Wait, wait — smell that? It’s the ripe stench of vomit and immorality, which all but wafts off of radio waves thanks to her vivid depiction of drunken debauchery.

The glorification of partying has become more and more prevalent in modern music, painting this generation as a bunch of foolhardy junior-alcoholics.

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