And now for something COMPLETELY DIFFERENT...
Who said this blog was just going to be about, so called, "high culture"? I hope I didn't, because IT ISN'T. Anyone who knows me well knows that I like an equal dose of Beethoven and One Direction, of Four Weddings and a Funeral and the architecture of City of London churches, of Rubens paintings and Green Wing etc. I enjoy both "high" and "low" culture in different ways.* So I thought my blog should reflect this.
I first had the idea for a post of this nature AAAAAAGES ago when I heard One Direction's song Little Things. Now. In case you don't know, I am just going to put it out there right now. I LOVE One Direction. [I don't care what you have to say against them, their music is up beat, their faces are cute, THEY MAKE ME HAPPY, OK? And being happy is important! Anyway, moving on...]. But. BUT. I was listening to the lyrics of the song, as I always do, and I found myself thinking, WHAT? Seriously, what were they thinking?
e.g.:
You've never loved
Your stomach or your thighs
The dimples in your back at the bottom of your spine
But I'll love them endlessly
YOU TRYIN' TO CALL ME FAT? One Direction. Lesson number one. However sweetly you say it. NEVER, I repeat NEVER try to tell a girl she's a bit chubs!
Anyway. My point was, I wanted to dissect some ridiculous pop lyrics, because a] I think the catchy tunes are distracting some of you from some pure comedy gold and b] it's fun.
The reason I didn't do it at the time was because one of my favourite bloggers, Stuart Heritage, got there first, with his Rational Deconstruction of Girl on Fire by Alicia Keys. I laughed so much at this I cried.
However recently another song has cropped up that deserves some attention and which has indeed already been parodied by Radio 1 DJ Greg James.
22 by Taylor Swift
Now, I'm 22 and the first time I heard this song, I was 22. I still find it laughable, and Greg James version [link above] almost summed up how I felt about it. Almost. But I would like to pay homage to Stuart Heritage and try my hand at my own RATIONAL DECONSTRUCTION of Swifty's somewhat rose-tinted lyrics. Here goes...
It feels like a perfect night to dress up like hipsters
Hmmm, am pretty sure a lot of 22 year olds are still Hipsters.
I thought Taylor Swift was a hipster. OH GOD I AM SO OLD I DON'T KNOW WHAT TRENDS ARE ANYMORE ARGHGHGHGH.
And make fun of our exes, uh uh uh uh
Not everyone has as many as you Swifty, talking about mine would last me less than an hour, let alone a whole night.
It feels like a perfect night for breakfast at midnight
More like midday.
To fall in love with strangers uh uh uh uh
Ermmm STRANGER DANGER. That still exists! Clearly Swifty has never been to Ilford. No chance of falling in love with strangers round here.
Yeaaaah
NO.
We're happy free confused and lonely at the same time
Well I'm definitely confused by this point.
It's miserable and magical oh yeah
The most magical thing that has happen in my 22nd year is bits of money magically disappearing out of my monthly paycheck. Turns out its National Insurance. No one taught me about this at school or uni. But you will learn it in the magical world of TWENTY-TWO! woooooooo.
Tonight's the night when we forget about the deadlines, it's time uh uh
I'm 22. I graduated last summer. No more deadlines for me buddy. Oh apart from those pesky job application deadlines... and I thought I'd escaped the D-word.
I don't know about you but I'm feeling 22
Everything will be alright if you keep me next to you
I thought she was lonely. Wait... is this the stranger she's fallen in love with? God help us.
You don't know about me but I bet you want to
Swifty, we know ALL about you, you keep telling us in your albums.
Everything will be alright if we just keep dancing like we're 22, 22
Or, y'know, if we could get well paid jobs. Dancing is NOT going to help that problem. Goshhhhh #22yearoldproblems
It seems like one of those nights
Gosh swifty goes out a lot. Clearly she isn't 22 because I haven't been out THAT much since uni. Too skint for it now. [What I really mean is too tired. At 22 I am so tired on a Friday night after a week of 9-5ing that I just want to snooze on the sofa with a bottle of wine and some New Girl. But that's too embarrassing to admit to anyone... oh wait...]
This place is too crowded
too many cool kids
Emphasis on the word KIDS. Seriously. Being 22 means when you go out clubbing now one of the most common phrases heard is, "he looks about 12". Clubs turn into kindergartens. It's soooo depressing and weird.
It seems like one of those nights
We ditch the whole scene and end up dreaming instead of sleeping
Or more typically, ditching the club early because either a] My feet hurt b] I've got the munchies c] A tantalising combo of the two.
Yeaaaah
We're happy free confused and lonely in the best way
It's miserable and magical oh yeah
Tonight's the night when we forget about the heartbreaks, it's time uh uh
The lyrics are basically the same after that. You catch my drift.
So now I've completely embarrassed myself on my blog, I don't expect anyone to come back. I bet you've clicked the x already and no one is even reading this sentence. But IF YOU ARE, thank you! I will be back. Maybe with something about art, or architecture or even, if it doesn't mortally offend thee, One Direction!
Thanks for reading, and remember, it doesn't matter what you listen to, BE HAPPY!
Jennifer
*I actually HATE the terms high and low culture, hence the speech marks. I think they have the potential to be elitist and aren't useful in classing different types of culture. However, I don't wish to open this can of worms NOW, but am interested in considering this topic in wider detail once I've read more on it at a later date
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