She's Freaky But I Like It.

On Sunday night I melted a lamp. After I panicked and immediately fled from my room, worried that the dorm fire alarm was going to go off and I would soon have a hundred people hating me, I listened to some pop music.

Which brings us to the question: In music, is personal expression really all that much more valuable than pure and simple consumerism?

Honestly, this wasn't something that had occurred to me before. But as I sat in my friend's room, simultaneously watching Britney Spears videos on YouTube and imagining the hordes of angry college students and Safety & Security officers that I was sure were roaming the campus with pitchforks and torches looking for me, we had the following discussion.
Most of the music that I, at least, listen to regularly is presumably created by the artist as a way to express him/her(/zir)self. That's why they make music - as a form of personal expression; because they feel like they have something to say, whether or not the listener agrees. Obviously they want people to listen to and enjoy their music, but they wouldn't necessarily alter their own personal sound to fit what the audience wants to hear.
But, come on, let's just say it: Pop artists, on the other hand, are pretty much just in it for the money.
Okay, maybe that's not totally fair. Granted, I don't really know what I'm talking about, as someone whose only knowledge of the music industry comes from listening to music. I'm sure that they all started out because of a love for performing or singing or...whatever. But when it comes down to it, how many popular pop artists actually write their own songs? Their personal expression is all about the brand. Yes, it's about the sound of their music - a sound that they inspire and choose, even if they don't create it - but it's also about the merchandising. It's about selling out corporate arenas around the world. It's about whether to wear hot pants or a leotard for the show that night. These artists - these songs - are constructed to sell.
This means that the people who write these songs have one task and one task only: to write the best fucking song ever. More independent artists write because it's what they feel, man, and the best way for them to express themselves is through the freedom of music. Or something. But pop songwriters just have to make a song that is better than every other song ever.
Obviously, commercial success does NOT equal quality. Obviously there are plenty of songs that are both wildly popular and absolute crap. See: Soulja Boy. But every once in a while, this intense competition within the pop music industry comes out with something so refined, so utterly advanced, so beyond just 'personal expression' and possibly even into the realm of near-genius. Because this is what they have to do. This is why the pop genre, which inarguably supplies the world with a lot of terrible music, is so worthwhile. While all those lameass singer/songwriters are warbling on about how they feel and something pretty they saw or whatever, there is a whole other world solely devoted to creating the perfect song. Perfect structure, perfect vocals, perfect instrumentation/sampling/whathaveyou, perfect production. And just so. Fucking. Good.

Seriously, I listen to all of these songs on a pretty much daily basis. You won't find me saying I have any "guilty pleasures" - I'm not ashamed in the least.

Crazy in Love - Beyonce (feat. Jay-Z)
Lovestoned/I Think She Knows - Justin Timberlake
Toxic - Britney Spears
Umbrella - Rihanna (feat. Jay-Z
Like a Prayer - Madonna
NB: Okay, so this one's a little bit different. Madonna did write it - helped a bit, at least (and to be fair, so did Beyonce and JT on their respective tracks) - and it's not nearly as commercial and consumerist as the others (especially considering the controversy surrounding the music video etc). But this is hands down what I consider to be the best pop song ever written, and is probably one of my top three favorite songs ever. There was no way I wasn't going to include it in my post on pop music.

xoxo,
tues.