I spend a lot of time thinking about what Carly Rae Jepsen is doing at any given moment.
How much time is “a lot”? Well, that’s relative. I’d say I think about her maybe, like, once every two days, which is certainly more than anyone’s ever consistently thought about her since she became the biggest one-hit wonder of the last decade (in my completely underqualified opinion).
I’m sure she’s tried to release other music, and it was probably really okay-sounding, but after the mall tours and Kohl’s Candie’s sponsorship, there’s not much for a one-hit wonder to do. She probably still gets invited to award shows — but the really irrelevant ones, such as the People’s Choice Awards.
You see, after all the glitz and glamor of being a borderline C-list celebrity, Carly probably hunkers down with a pint of Rocky Road, watches the MTV Video Music Awards in her pajamas and cries because Ariana Grande is living the life she was supposed to live. One-hit wonders: They’re just like us!
The reason I’m ranting about Carly Rae is because this summer has put her in good company. She’s waited oh so long for someone to join her on the One-Hit Wonder Wall of Fame, snuggled between Sisqo and Billy Ray Cyrus.
It seems like 2014 was the year that every record company said “fuck it” and stuck all their newly signed, overly optimistic artists onto a wheel, spun it and commissioned the lucky nobody it landed on to write the #songofthesummer.
This summer’s hot jamz were … eclectic, to say the least. Take the reggae hit “Rude,” by artificially excited four-piece band Magic! The tropical sounds of basic acoustic guitar and mundane drum patterns reflect the laid-back lifestyle of the band’s island roots. SIKE! These guys are from Canada. Yup, Canada. Just like Carly Rae Jepsen. I smell a conspiracy, eh?
We also had the annoyingly infectious “Boom Clap” by Charli XCX, aka, that girl that kind of looks like Lorde. It’s one of those songs that sounds exciting in commercials but is actually a snore-fest when you listen to it on your own time. Now, Charli has one-hit wonder potential if she stays a solo act, but her long career as a “featuring” artist (see: “Fancy” by Iggy Azalea and “I Love It” by Icona Pop) could earn her the Pitbull stamp of approval. Dalé.
There was also that song about singing in the shower, which was aptly named “Shower” by the currently over-exposed Becky G. She somehow snagged the penultimate performance at the Teen Choice Awards, where she attempted to establish the song’s signature dance move, which ended up being a glorified version of the nae nae. But in all honesty, I enjoyed this song the most because of its provocative lyrics: “Baby, you make me hot like an oven.” Oooh, kitchen appliances. Very sexy.
Top-40 radio, you have disappointed me this summer. What happened to the typical, watered-down EDM track featuring a big-name vocalist and a repetitive, head-splitting beat? Where are my disgusting and misogynistic melodies? And Pharrell? We don’t NEARLY have enough songs on the radio by Pharrell!
Don’t you know that the public just wants more of the same? Bring us five more Katy Perry songs, laced with blatant euphemisms and decorated with candy sprinkles. You know, the classics. The good ol’ days. The good ol’ six months ago.
To the aforementioned summer artists and those too obscure to be addressed directly (I’m looking at you, Nico & Vinz. Like, who even are you?): Your fate has been sealed. Thanks for the sweet tunes, like, really, we appreciate them, but it’s time to pack your bags, grab a spoon and join Carly Rae on the couch.
Fortunately, autumn is upon us, and the idiotic songs of summers past are falling to the wayside like crisp leaves, leaving room on the charts for more complex and experienced artists to display their poetic prowess.
Ah, yes, I can hear the new, encapsulating autumn anthem now: “Oh my gosh, look at her butt / Look at her butt (look at her butt).” It’s the seminal songstress Nicki Minaj, prancing around the jungle in a captivatingly jiggly fashion. Such poise, such artistry, such lasting impact.
