That’s totally what Ke$ha’s doing to little girls, except hers is a land of heavy eye makeup, blue lipstick, autotune, lyrics about not-so-thinly-veiled promiscuity and irresistible beats.
Oh yeah, and she’s on the “Get $leazy” tour.
Here’s a snippet from an Aug. 22 Washington Post review:
True to its title, the concert was an assaulting tribute to partying and debauchery. The stage resembled a junkyard rave, a smoky jungle-gym of platforms, ladders and light-up beams. In the crowd: A sea of glittery teenage girls in racy costumes and frightening makeup.
I’m not planning on going to a Ke$ha show any time soon. The trouble is, even when my parental controls are on full-blast, which they rarely are, it’s hard to screen Ke$ha out. She comes on Top 40 radio seemingly every other song. Give a kid a radio, any radio, and she’s got access to Ke$ha. Take a kid to the pool, and what’s on there? Ke$ha.
Oh, and then there was the time she guest-starred on Nickelodeon’s “Victorious.” Gee, thanks for the assist Nick! Why wasn’t Prince ever a guest star on the Cosby Show when I was a kid?
What’s the most horrifying thing on the planet — I mean, besides actual stuff like a nuclear-armed Pakistan?
It’s a small child singing about brushing her teeth with Jack Daniels as she sings along to Ke$ha’s “Tik Tok.” This actually happens fairly often around my house. It gives me shivers. One time I actually said, “Please don’t ever behave that way.” I was assured of a lifetime of appropriate behavior. Cross your fingers.
Amy Winehouse had similar bad-behavior themes in her music, but at least Amy had the decency to aim it toward adults who could make informed decisions about what she was talking about. And there was underlying regret in “Back to Black.” She described cheating herself, even as she discussed behavior she couldn’t resist.
With Ke$ha, there’s no hint of regret.
There’s a grand tradition of parents being scared of the next rock-n-roll music. It’s a weird position to be in.
But it seems like marketing has grown ever more sophisticated — and saturated — even as parental energy levels drain.
Which brings me to Katy Perry. It was kind of funny when a seemingly innocent appearance on Sesame Street got all controversial.
But now she’s got this song about having a stranger in her bed and a mammoth headache caused by too much consumption and how she wants to do it all over again next weekend.
Oh. No. No thank you!
This song also has a beat you can’t resist, especially if you are an 8-year-old girl. I’m all for freedom of artistic expression for Ke$ha and Katy. I just wish they didn’t seem to be aiming toward little girls.
Here’s a Washington Post review of a Katy Perry concert from mid-June:
The audience — almost entirely young girls — screamed the shrill screams of teenage rapture. Their chaperones cringed. It wasn’t just the noise, either. It’s a teen-oriented concert that requires some permissive parents. Perry writes kids’ music with lyrics about adults acting like kids. “I smell like a mini-bar, DJs passed out in the yard / Barbie’s on the barbecue, is this a hickey or a bruise?” she sings on her newest single, “Last Friday Night (T.G.I.F.).”
Onstage, the singer noshed on “magic brownies” and made groan-inducing double entendres (“I want to see your peacock”). “Does anyone else here party?” she asked a sea of giggling minors.
Is anybody else scared?