Best Coast is a Terrible Band

Sometimes when I listen to music I get the sense that everyone in the world is playing a giant trick on me. Like when a truly terrible song comes on the radio and I say, “What the crap, this song is horrible,” everyone will jump out and say, “Haha! It’s okay Nikki, we know ‘Like a G6’ is ridiculous and no, we didn’t know it was sung by a band of Asian Americans called the Far East Movement either but it’s not really loved by the majority of Americans. We just wanted to see if you’d freak out.”

By now, I’m pretty used to feeling this way about pop music. But there are times when I feel this way about “alt” or “indie” music as well and that is particularly upsetting for one reason. The thing about bands you read about on Pitchfork or in your local anti-establishment weekly is that they are ostensibly of a higher quality. The listener of said music is more selective, has higher standards. This is the assumption at the base of the musical caste system—don’t pretend it doesn’t exist. So when a band gets away with that level of critical acclaim and gets to wear the sheep’s clothing of talent and skill, it’s twice the failure on the part of the listener. It’s one failure to listen to bad music; it’s another to act as though it has artistic merit. Best Coast is one of these secretly bad bands.

A few months ago I went to a Best Coast concert completely unfamiliar with the music. By the time frontwoman Bethany Cosentino droned “I wish you were my boyfriend,” for the 100th time in the two minute and 30 second span of a song in which that appears to be the only lyric, it became clear that her music is terrible on several levels.

Level one. The lyrics (all written by Cosentino) are bad for women. Sure, there are times when I’ve thought to myself, “Man, I wish that guy was my boyfriend,” or even the much less cool, “I wish I had a boyfriend.” And music is an art form that can and should explore emotions we’re not necessarily proud of and then inform and express the cause and outcome of that emotion. But I don’t think that Best Coast is doing any of that. I think Cosentino is just lazy. Every song on the album Crazy For You is about a girl who wants a boy and moreover that girl cannot live without that boy.

Sample lyrics: “When you leave me/the bed is empty/and I feel crazy.”

“And I don't know which way to go/Every time you leave this house, everything falls apart.”

“I can't get myself off the couch/I don't wanna talk to anyone else.”

“I can't do anything with out you/Can't do anything with you/You drive me crazy, but I love you/You make me lazy, but I love you”

We give ourselves permission to regress on occasion. We aren’t always strong in our romantic relationships and we rock out to unchallenging boy-crazy club music on a Friday night. But at a certain point, these moments and this music isn’t just frivolous fun. It’s counterproductive indulgence and Best Coast’s lyrics are a flat, uncomplicatedly negative portrayal of women.

It doesn’t have to be that way either. Songs do exist that express infatuation without the submissiveness, weakness and whining. See Mandy Moore’s “Crush,” or Selena’s “Dreaming of You.” Yes, I said it, the Mandy Moore song is better.

Level two. Subject matter aside, the lyrics are just plain bad writing. They’re made up of simple couplets that are end stopped on the rhyme (crazy/lazy, friend/end). They’re baby food. You could write them yourself given five minutes. And seeing that it’s possible to write, “I want you so much” five times in a row, call that’s a day's work and get a record deal and the lavish praise of alternative media, maybe you should.

We give Taylor Swift flak for singing about the romance of rain too often (“Meet you out in the pouring rain.” “Kiss you in the rain.”) Well, Cosentino’s lyrical crutch is “waiting by the phone.” That’s what’s so great about the 21^st century, Beth—you can take your phone with you. You can get calls anywhere.

In conclusion, Best Coast’s music is poorly written drivel that portrays women in an unnecessarily weak and frankly boring manner. So let’s all stop listening to Best Coast, start paying closer attention to what we’re giving our time to and save our consideration for things that actually deserve it.

A Response to Taylor Swift Backlash

Two things have prompted me to rejuvenate my blog:

1. Hearing Ke$ha's latest hit and consequently almost veering into oncoming traffic to end my misery.
2. This interesting, if over-long, article on why Taylor Swift sucks made me mad because I still love her.

This article does raise some good points -- Swiftie talks about rain a lot, it's true.-- and after a cursory listen, it's evident that Swift has a naive and elementary understanding of the world. But I think that's okay. Not all girls need to be sullied on a ping-pong table at too young an age or grow up in poverty to earn the right to make music.

The author paints Taylor as a virginal role model that Moms of America love, at odds with the more revolutionary, edgy and honest artists like Lady Gaga. Moms do prefer Taylor to Gaga, but unlike the petulant punk-rebels of the world, that doesn't make me like her less. As the writer points out, Taylor-the-person is different from Taylor-the-product. She, like her fellow female musicians (/all women?) are images crafted by 100 different hands. Conservative Christians can probably get behind her "Don't have sex when you're 15" message and the not-so-subtle, "good girls wear white" imagery in her videos. But who's fault is it that Taylor Swift perpetuates the Madonna/whore complex with the caricatures in the "You Belong to Me" video? Is it Taylor's? We were all raised in a society that holds that standard and it isn't fair to martyr this single musician for its existence.

It's also a leap to say that Taylor Swift's lyrics about waiting to have sex until you're sure you can trust the boy driving the hot rod is the same as condoning an abstinence-only lifestyle. And if her music has Christian elements, isn't that simply in line with the genre of country music? Morals aside, the reason I like her is because out of all the other pop stars on the top 40s charts, she actually has a sincere viewpoint. She's not a slutty robot. How many more songs are we going to have to hear about getting wasted in a club and be told to put our hands up because the beat is sick? Club pop is so, so tired.

Honestly, sincerity is a sad reason to like an artist. It's a low standard to be sure. But what are my options when the Black-Eyed Peas make songs that sound like SNL parodies (ahem, "Get out and smash it, like oh my God") and the extent of Ke$ha's lyrical genius is "Blah blah blah, that's what I'm talkin' bout"? She announces to everyone that she has nothing to say, and yet everyone is still listening! Excuse me if I find Taylor Swift a breath of fresh air.

I'm not saying that perpetuating destructive gender roles unknowingly makes it okay, and you can go ahead and criticize her for that. But please, do not try to tell me that Lady Gaga is a feminist. It's an impossible, much-argued issue, whether flaunting your sexuality makes you progressive or just makes boys happy, so we won't argue about her effect on sexual politics. I'll just point out that Madonna (not of madonna-whore fame, but of "Vogue"/ pointy bra fame) already revolutionized female sexuality two decades ago. Gaga is a rehash with a wig.

Team Taylor.

Sasha Fierce Space Cadet

There are many reasons why I like Beyonce. 

1. She is from Houston, my hometown.

2. She has sung a number of my personal "jams," including "Jumpin' Jumpin'" and "Naughty Girl."

3. She is married to Jay-Z, whom I also adore because ladies ARE pimps too. 

But lately she has been the cause of much questioning. Did she realize that by naming her last album B'day she would bring to mind the word bidet? That by replacing the apostrophe (') with a simple dash (-), she would have erased any possibility of the image of getting our posteriors washed by an arcing jet of water getting in the way of celebrating B-day, like a birthday but it's Beyonce-day (which is everyday!)? Why has she been dressing like Zenon Girl of the 21st Century lately? See?

And again!

But the weirdest part is that robotic hand. It's featured prominently in her video for "Single Ladies," where at the glittering climax Beyonce showcases a giant engagement ring decorating the ring finger of her BIONIC HAND and gives a menacing grin. She's sending the message that once the wily single lady seduces her man and gets that ring, she actually turns into a murderous robot capable of mind control and getting you to go to the store in the middle of the night to buy tampons. Not that that's not true but shouldn't we try to keep that little secret between you and me, Bee?

I can imagine the glove resting on a red satin display in a store window like at Tiffany's. Beyonce walks by, presses her nose against the glass, and says, "I have to have it!" But a robot hand can't really ever be utilized without facing derision. Let's not forget the one in Lindsay Lohan's spectacular I Know Who Killed Me that stripper-Linds uses to plunge through the coffin of her hopefully-still-breathing college coed twin. 

Fake Lesbians Fail

This was not only the summer of Pinkberry, it was also the summer of the fake lesbians. Kate Perry, Lilo's new romance (yes, I'm naysaying that shit) and Scarlett makes out with Penelope Cruz in Woody Allen's new flick. 

Ladies: Unless you plan on fulfilling the suggested promise of a girl-on-girl kiss then you probably shouldn't do it. And I guess you could plan on that... But when celebrity hotties start making out that really lessens the impact of college coeds doing it and then WHAT WILL WE HAVE LEFT? 

What happened to real-lesbian artists? Lillith Fair? There may not have been hotpants at coffeehouse open-mic nights but at least there was crushing sincerity! 

Why I now kind of like Scarlet Johansson

Aside from decidedly not seeing him in Just Friends, Ryan Reynolds really never made much of an impact on my psyche except for the fact that he was once involved with Alanis Morissette. (Oh man, my psyche.) But then he wrote this article for The Huffington Post, "Why I'm Running the New York City Marathon" and now I think he is just so endearing and wonderful. The article is funny and touching and he seems like a good guy you would get a beer with and cuff on the shoulder tenderly. 

In fact, I'm so full of warm and fuzzy feelings that I've changed my mind about Scarlett Johansson. After reading this article I can imagine them making jokes together that are actually funny while making pancakes and whenever Scarlett makes her classic pained face, Ryan can pull a snack out of his pocket and say something hilarious. She even looks pretty adorable in this picture. 

I love Mean Girls but...

Someone recently sent me a link to this article on jezebel that refers to another article in the London Sunday Times (O, web content!) where women like myself are chastised for disliking Keira Knightley. 

LST writer Watson accuses women of Mean Girls type behavior, claiming that the reason that we hate Keira is why we hated pretty girls in high school. That is to say, pure jealousy. Watson wags a finger at us and tells us we do the world a disservice. Why can't we all just get along? 

Seriously? Of course I'm jealous. Yes, part of the reason it is difficult for me to love Keira and Kirsten is because things seem easy for them. They're my age and have money and good looks and don't I wish I had those things too. But everyday we are asked to worship something different and out of our reach. "Look at Scarlett! Want her! Want to be her! And then pay money to see her movies and buy her clothes and her makeup!" How can we be reproached for not loving everything that comes our way?

Women are asked to do many things: some combination of being mothers, career women, intelligent and beautiful. We are held to a very high standard — that being as close to awesome celebrities as possible — and so we hold stars to very high standards in return. When women such as Sienna Miller and Kate Moss seem promiscuous or don't appear to do that much, women may start to wonder why we are working so hard. Sometimes some women crack and hatred can get out of hand. We are humans and we aren't always nice. But the thing about telling our girlfriends that we don't think Keira can act is that Keira will never know we said that. Most women do not take the photos of the cellulite of the stars and write terrible things about them in magazines and online. A member of the media, who constantly profits off of the objectification of these women, should not try to shame me for wanting to get into a fistfight with Scarlett Johansson.*

*UPDATE: ScarJo is no longer the main contender for hand-to-hand celebrity combat. 

I'm cool - huh - I'm no fool

Earlier today I was considering learning the lyrics for 69 Boyz "Booty Drop," mainly because I was imagining what it would be like if the song came on in a bar and I impressed everyone in the bar by knowing all the words. 

But then I was told it would only make me cooler by 3-5%. But knowing the Jonas/ Wayan brothers would increase coolness somewhere around 10%. After some consideration, I deemed this to be true. Granted, Total Amount of Coolness (TAC) after these improvements depends on how much I had to start with. So I conducted some science, with beakers and controls and stuff, and my conclusions are depicted in this fancy graph:

Aubrey O'Day of Danity Kane only scoots ahead of Shia because of the ridiculousness factor. Obviously Notorious B.I.G dominates the competition.

The New Season of Gossip Girl

So last night I finally watched the season premiere of Gossip Girl. It was really bad. The bar was set pretty low to begin with and the show basically rips off every plot-line in the OC, but this was just terrible. There were many reasons why it so bad, but none worse than how the writers have already managed to jump the shark — and it's only episode one of season two! *Spoilers ahead*

So at the end of last season Chuck Bass abandoned Blair in Europe where they are supposed to share a poetic summer romance (Blair having lovingly packed her garters). Blair comes back home with a fake boyfriend who has sloppily claimed to attend both Georgetown and Princeton, putting jealous Chuck and his attendant PI on the case. At the Hamptons White Party, before Fake Boyfriend gets the screws put to him by Chuck, he confesses to Blair that he IS a liar:

"I don't go to Georgetown or Princeton, or any school for that matter... " [Blair looks horrified, because higher education is the backbone of American society.]

[Fake Boyfriend switches to British accent] "My name is actually Marcus Beaton. I'm... British. And... a laaawd." 

Now it's Chuck's turn to look horrified, and also mine.

I.N.L.T.O.D Part III

3. Weeds, totally down hill.

4. Ben Stiller movies.

5. Boy bands. 

Jonas Brothers, I do not sweat you.

6. Robert Downey Jr. 

Uuuh that freakin' mustache! 

And let me be clear. These were things that I really enjoyed. Now it's like a world with no laughter. No more repetitive choruses with just a liiiiittle bit of mid-drift showing, and I'm talking about N'Sync not Britney.

On second thought, the Jonas Brothers and Miley Cyrus do offer the same kinds of things as 1999 era Britney Spears and I guess the reason I'm not interested is their age. Which should be a red flag. Celebrities are getting younger and younger. Hasn't everyone heard about that 12-year old who blogs? 

Instead of eating our young we're going to be eaten by our young. I'm scared. 

 

It's not like the old days... II

2. Action movies

Out of all the best action movies — Lethal Weapon, Die Hard, Speed — let's take one as a case study. Predator. Has Carl Weathers in it, Arnold Schwarzenegger covered in mud fighting aliens and Bill Duke shaves in the jungle without shaving cream. And if action movies are judged on a manly scale, which clearly they are, Predator totally owns today's action movies. 

Take this year's Jumper. Jamie Bell and Hayden Christensen are kind of cute, but is cute what we want in our action stars? I say no! Arnold would have ripped the ears off these teddy bears with his teeth! 

Action movies these days are just about skinny white guys getting with pretty girls. Look at him. He's wearing a peacoat for god's sake. Our generation needs deliverance. 

It's not like the old days...

Another birthday recently passed by for me, so naturally I tried to stop and take note of where my life was, how things had changed in the past year... all that good stuff. 

A friend of mine wrote in her card to me, "it's all down here from now." She's pretty much right. 

I have created a list of things that just aren't as good as they used to be and will share them with you over the next few posts.

1. Britney Spears

Then: 

Now:

I'm so right, right?

I'm Just Not That Into You

When the lattes begin to cool, or alternatively the beer is getting warm, my conversations are often saved by the question, "What celebrity would you most like to punch in the face?" Because there are celebrities we love (Eva Mendes, pre-mustache Robert Downey, Jr., the Olsens... I needn't go on) but there are the stars we could arguably say we enjoy having around even more because we hate them so much. You can only admire so many people who have lives infinitely better than yours after all. Here is a list of a few that I have heard as a response to that question, but please weigh in on your own celeb-nemeses.

1. Scarlett Johansson, my own personal least-favorite. A one-note actor, the only characters ScarJo ever plays are halfway indie chicks who wear vintage dresses with socks. Yes, yes she's sexy but aren't there plenty of those running around? We're pretty much the same size so I think I could take her. (Please do not ask me to go for her top first thing.)

2. Keira Knightly. Mean face, that one.

3. My roommate picked Jessica Biel, but I think she has pretty nice hair. 

4. All the guys from Growing Up Gotti. "I would kill them. All of them." 

5. Spencer Pratt, obvious choice. LC would be pretty fun to see in a fistfight too, as a side note. 

6. Toby Keith, but why bother really?

La Moustache

I know it was predictable of me to yearn for you, Robert Downey, Jr., after your middle-aged comeback in a superhero movie. You are too old for me and it's true that the last thing I saw you in before Iron Man was U.S. Marshals (when I was 11 and therefore not yet capable of lust). But you didn't have to go this far. Shave the mustache and we can reach a peaceful armistice.

Katy Perry's "I Kissed A Girl"*

Why did it take so long for someone to make the Two-Girls-Kiss-to-Get-Attention gimmick into a song? This was a perfectly conceived idea that fully exploits the attraction of hot part-time lesbians and also Madonna-whore, not only in the innocent taste of cherry chapstick, but KP's kittenish finger biting in the video. The song, like the act of girl-on-girl action itself, is not subtle. There's no need for suspense, so it's a good thing they just put everything on the table with the song title. NO MAN CAN RESIST. Not even Kanye!

Another plus, when girls hear it at clubs they might make out in deference to it. Because god knows they can't dance to it.

*I hate this song

A Mystery Solved

So the whole world thinks that Katie Holmes is under the Cruise brand of mind control. What other explanation is there for her to dress like this? 

As it turns out, her slouchy outfit was just an act of sartorial revenge. After Katie started walking around with her jeans pegged, a number of other stars like Amanda Peet here began following suit. Now she can say, "HA! To all you naysayers who accuse me of not thinking for myself. HA! I think for all of young Hollywood! I control THEIR MINDS!"

Well played, Katie.

A Letter to Fancy Celebrity Types

Kirsten Dunst slumming it at an MGMT concert in Brooklyn.

Dear Celebrities,

I know the economy is rough on all of us right now, but must you bogart the things that rightfully belong to me, a member of the unwashed masses? Are fame, fortune and hardly ever looking sweaty not enough for you? 

The world is clearly divided in two.

Things you get:

1. paying a lot of money for really nice things

2. VIP sections

3. having someone brush your hair for you in the morning

Things I get:

1. free concerts

2. taking furniture people dispose of on the sidewalk and putting it in my apartment

3. eating peanut butter out of the jar

I would prefer it if you could in the future please pay closer attention to these guidelines. You don't see me doing things like paying for cabs or looking good in a bikini. Because I respect your lifestyle. I hope that next time I wait in line for a concert for three hours on a sidewalk and get jostled by people in fake Raybans, then give up and go home after my friend buys some shampoo, that I don't find out the next day that Kirsten Dunst was there. Wearing Raybans. 

Talk to you soon,

Nikki

I need a new muse

Last summer Jessica Alba was my Model of Fitness. Every time I did a sit-up, I envisioned myself as Jessica. I loved her in Honey (a completely underrated film in which Missy Elliott saves the day, as she so often does for us all), and I was pretty certain she was the most gorgeous being to have ever walked the earth. 

But she sort of dropped off my radar by being in movies like Good Luck Chuck and Awake and after a while I got too busy to be watching TNT reruns of Honey for the 15th time. Then she got pregnant. Beautifully pregnant, but still, it was hard for me to jog to visions of baby-belly Jessicas.

So for this summer I needed a new muse. And I'm pretty picky. I'm not so much into waifs, thereby disqualifying Keira Knightley, Kate Hudson and a host of other starlets. I saw some hot pictures of Bar Rafaeli in a bikini, but I'm not sure I could bear thinking about the woman who gets to sleep beside Leonardo Dicaprio on a regular basis. Maggie Gyllenhaal and Zooey Deschanel are two of my favorites, but they seem too hipster to exercise. 

I finally settled on Eva Mendes. In fact, when I see her, I kind of swoon. Plus there are ads all over the city with jewels falling out her mouth. And she is in these Calvin Klein underwear ads...

Um, I kind of want to be her boyfriend!!!!

How To Make it onto an NYC Missed Connection

When a stranger in a mangy tshirt writes a few sentences on the internet about how he wishes he had said something to you, it almost makes it okay that you are single and have no one to see The Dark Knight with. It doesn't matter that if he had asked for your number you wouldn't have given it to him because he probably has a sex + chocolate pudding fetish and he smells like canned Atlantic salmon. Someone thinks you are attractive. And because I really believe this, lately I have been reading a good deal of the MCs and trying to figure out how I can achieve this very special brand of fame. 

1. Learn how to make I'm-Interested-In-Having-Sex-With-You Eyes. Practice in front of the mirror if necessary. (It's best if you don't wink or use your lips to get the message across.)

2. Makes eyes at guys that are tall and wear button down shirts. This is what 90% of posters say they look like.

3. Be Asian, blonde or wear a bright colored accessory. Yellow tank tops do well.

4. Actually anything to call attention to yourself is good. "Tear it up" on the dance floor or yell something slutty at a concert.

5. Hang out in Union Square or ride the subway a lot. Especially the L and D trains.

6. Mornings and evenings are the best times. So try to look hottest then. 

7. Your neighbor might be your best option. So don't ignore him even though he seems a bit intense. Keep your curtains open, he knows what you're up to all the time anyway. 

I'll let you know when it happens for me. Any further suggestions?

Be Kanye Absolut Ads

I was on the subway Monday afternoon, fervently making eyes at people I thought might write a Missed Connection about me when I realized I was sitting across from this Be Kanye ad. No one else seemed to be taking interest, which seemed odd to me. I love that bald guy, he looks so pervy.

Once you follow the link to bekanyenow.com, Absolut vodka will tell you that these Kanye pills were made from a lab accident involving orange soda (Kel?). I would have thought grape. I won't ruin all the delicious surprises awaiting you on the website, except to say that the "Common Questions" tab really answers none of my questions. 

Such as, what would I do if a guy at a bar approached me and really thought he was Kanye West? Or just drank enough alcohol to pretend he was KW. Or shared any personality traits with Kanye at all. Or wore those glasses. I bet that's happened to some people. But then again, he does have a PHd (Pretty Huge....!).

Other celebrities that should have video games too

Being a true Renaissance man, 50 Cent now has his own video game. You can watch the trailer for "50 Cent: Blood on the Sand" here.  In the game, 50 Cent performs somewhere in the war-torn Middle East but instead of cash the show promotor pays him with a diamond encrusted skull. To society's collective dismay, 50 gets robbed on the way to the airport and he and his weed carriers have to utilize all manner of rocket launchers and military rigs to get it back... while still managing to get the girl. How do you like him now? 

This has opened the door for other celebrities to get their own games too:

1. "Katie Holmes: Pie-n-tology." The player, as Katie, must bake pies for Tom Cruise who is costumed in his Risky Business ensemble of shirt and sunglasses. The pies get increasingly more difficult to create, from simple apple to something with a crumb topping. There's a secret final level where Katie bakes a pie with glass shards in it and then must escape into the night with Suri tucked into a knapsack. Multiple player mode involves a series of mini games that include timed pie baking, scaling brick walls and giving birth while not making noise.

2. Lauren Conrad goes on dates with different men starting with the backstage intern for J.Lo and ultimately with the third and unknown Madden brother. You get to choose her outfits, what she orders at dinner, what club she goes to and whether she calls Lo, Whitney or Audrina after each date for girl talk. Okay so not that much happens and it's kind of boring...

3. There's a trenchcoat flasher terrorizing the neighborhood and Harry Potter's Daniel Radcliffe must find and apprehend him. But then it turns out that the flasher might actually be Radcliffe himself, given his penchant for being edgy and naked. The final round is a Radcliffe v. Racliffe showdown and oh, it's brutal.