John Sciacca Writes...
Random Thoughts (Blog)
Random Thoughts (Blog)
Random Thoughts (Blog)
|Posted on November 23, 2010 at 4:19 PM|
I’m driving down the road the other day in our work van which means that I’m isolated from my-Pod and forced to listen to the Caravan’s terrestrial FM tuner. Now, in Myrtle Beach this is a special kind of hell reserved for only the lowest forms of weeping and open-sored miscreants.
Since it seems that every other station is either telling me to store up my canned goods and potted meats and hunker down until the 2012 election or is playing the same mix of 10 “classic” rock songs (and when did GnR become classic rock? I mean, I love Sweet Child O Mine too, but does it really belong alongside Pink Floyd and Skynard and AC/DC? Well, actually, I guess ANYTHING that breaks the monotony of those same songs is welcome. Point withdrawn.) over and over, when I stumble across a station that seems to be playing current pop music I jump in it.
And that’s when it comes on.
Willow Smith’s newish song, “Whip My Hair.” The song is cruelly, mind-numbingly repetitive in a “We ARE going to play this over and over – AND OVER!!! – until you break and tell us your terror cell’s plans.” And at first you feel like begging instead for the nipple battery clamps or the water boarding. And then about halfway into the song you strangely stop hating it and kind of welcome the next verse. Will it be the same? Oh, yes! It will! And then – oh, God. NO! – you suddenly notice that you’ve kind of stepped outside of your own body and, looking down from a quieter, gentler place, you notice that you’ve actually started singing along!
She whips her hair back and forth. She whips her hair back and forth. She whips her hair back and forth. She whips her hair back and forth. She whips her hair back and forth...
The beat is scarily catchy. I got out of the car humming it. I’m walking down the street thinking it. It’s like I Matrix-downloaded a song virus straight into my brain core and now I can’t get it out. And I’m not even sure I want to! And it’s like the entire song has a total of 10 different words. To prove that, I looked up the lyrics on the Interwebs. Total lyrics in song: 850 words. But if you remove the words: I, whip, my, hair, back, and, forth you are reduced to 305 words. Take away the words: Just, It, Real, Do, Good and there are 215 words left. Many of them being Oxford stumpers like do, your, shake and hater.
I can only imagine the writers, Janae Rockwell and Ronald “Jukebox” Jackson, trying to pitch this to Will “Big Jiggy” Smith.
“Prince! Yo, Fresh Prince.”
“It’s Will now. I go by Will. Actually, you should probably call me William.”
“Yeah. Sure, baby. Anything for you, Big Willie Style! Look, we got just the song to drop for your little lady. It gonna be tight! Crazy tight!”
“OK. I’m listening.”
“For like the entire 3 minutes, she just keeps saying ‘I whip my hair back and forth. I whip my hair back and forth. I whip my hair back and forth. I whip my hair back and forth.’ You know? Over and over. Like she JUST keeps repeating that like 8, 10, 16 times. You know, whatever. Till we run outta tape. It’s gonna be sick. Kids'll love it. Gotta good, positive message for the kids."
“Are you retarded?”
“No, baby! This is gonna light it up! Plus I’m gonna drop it to a catchy beat. Like SICK catchy. Kinda techno and rave and trance and Moby and all that. But cool. ‘I whip my hair back and forth. I whip my hair back and forth. I whip my hair back and forth. I whip my hair back and forth.’ Man! Are you feelin’ me, dawg! Tight!”
“I’m outta here...”
“Umm, William. Mr. Smith. Wait. Please, let me try to explain. You see, I believe what Jukebox was trying to explain is that while she is saying, ‘I whip my hair back and forth’ there will be a very stylish video of her *actually* whipping her hair. Back. And forth. Whipping paint on people. And spinning her head like she’s actually trying to make it separate from her body or see if she can sever her spinal column. Imagine a stark, bleak, all-white world like Kubrick's 2001 or Lucas' THX1138. I picture an image that is both shockingly violent and eerily beautiful. Imagine the character Sindel from Mortal Kombat 3. Except it’s your daughter. Singing, ‘I whip my hair back and forth’ over and over. And over. And, umm, over. While actually whipping her hair.”
"And don't forget the beat. Gonna be a sick beat! And autotune. You know we GOT ta have the autotune!"
"Yes. Autotune. But classy. Like, think more Rihanna and less T-Pain."
“You people got money for this?”
“Oh, yes. Of course.”
Here’s the video. Watch it. I'll be busy whipping my hair back and forth...