Culture Blues

Music: “My World 2.0″ – Justin Bieber

We smell another Thirty Seconds to Mars incident here, Giovanny.

Oh boy, this is NOT going to be pretty. As a respected music journalist I have many responsibilities; I have to scour existence for aural gems, come up with "pretty words" that describe moments of passion in audio, and (sigh) sometimes expose myself to mind numbing ear torture. I think the Chinese philosophy of the Yin Yang explains it best: polar or seemingly contrary forces are interconnected and interdependent in the natural world, and they give rise to each other in turn. Therefore, for every Beach House release there has to be one by Justin Bieber (the Universe demands it, what a bitch). So; I have let My World 2.0 sit in my iTunes for a while now, dreading listening to it, knowing before I even began my research into the life of this Canadian-elfin-Wunderkind that this record was going to be some agonizing form of penance (I am a grown man for God's sake!). Fear not however, I did what had to be done, dear reader, and my expiation was harrowing.

Born in Ontario Canada, Justin Drew Bieber has ascended at incalculable speeds from YouTube sensation to mall riot catalyst. As a 14 year old he was the subject of an intense bidding war between Usher and Justin Timberlake which was eventually won by the Atlanta based R&B king. After a quick relocation to the Dirty, he went to work on his debut EP (My World), which was the first debut ever to have seven songs chart in the Billboard top 100 (every time I learn something like this it takes a year off of my life). Such staggering success propelled the young immigrant to tween-mega-stardom, plastering his face on every magazine you don't care about (or at least should be ashamed to read), and providing him with the opportunity to spread his mawkish disease everywhere from Letterman, to 106 and Park, to the White House. Now, at 16, he is taller (the internet has tracked his growth spurts creepily accurately), and with his first full length studio record, he is poised to cement his status as the newest star that kids will be embarrassed to have adored in ten years.

I promise I will try to control my vitriol.

My World 2.0 begins with the white-hot single Baby, which features an electric piano chord progression that hearkens back to malt shops, poodle skirts and all kinds of shit none of us remember. This kind of calculated saccharine cliche is already enough to make me hate the track, but there is SO much more. From the first downbeat we are treated to the candy-coated, nasally pipes of our leading boy as he oohs and aahs annoyingly, before delivering lyrics like "My first love broke my heart for the first time" (kill me now), and of course the chorus "Baby, baby, baby ohh/ Like, baby, baby, baby, no". As I sit praying for this song to end, it goes from bad to worse as (face-palm) Ludacris steps up to the mic for a cameo verse that people will be able to use as blackmail until the day he leaves this Earth (why, Luda, why?). If you survive the opener, you can completely zone out through Somebody To Love, a Euro-Club thumper that is peppered by some vocal quirks that he was, no doubt, taught by his mentor. Then there's track three. Stuck In The Moment starts with an arpeggio that is lifted from the dreams of a 9 year old; some senseless cooing about where he wishes he was with your younger sister and then these lines: "Now Romeo and Juliet, bet they never felt the way we felt/Bonnie and Clyde never had to hide like we do, we do". Is this cherub fucking serious? Do little girls really buy this shit? This isn't an issue of temerity or gall- this is downright insulting. I'm not sure there is even a word in our language that can express the level of incredulity/vexation that welled up in me when I heard this _______ing, _____ (he is just a kid after all) try to dismiss such examples of tragic, outlaw love in favor of playground hand-holding and seven minutes in heaven.

Do I really need to go on?

The middle three tracks are full of more of the same. U Smile is an Elton John-esque piano ballad about lips being his biggest weakness, Runaway Love has more of a hip-hop feel (I am pretty sure my left ear is no longer receiving frequencies as an ongoing form of protest), and Never Let You Go prattles on about Angels and Heaven (apparently Canadians believe in Jesus, who knew?). There are some more cameos; the geniuses over at Def Jam thought that it would be a great idea to pair Bieber with another child star, Jessica Jarrell, a move that didn't work at all because the androgynous/girlie quality of Bieber's pubescent voice made it seem like he was just mutli-tracked. That being said, the award for worst cameo goes to Sean Kingston who, during the abysmal Eenie Meenie, belts out "Shorty is an eenie meenie minie moe lover" during the chorus (ruminate on that for a bit, parents out there), and also delivers an absurdly corny nursery rhyme bridge-like thing.

Look, I totally get that this music is in no way marketed towards me. I accept that I am certainly predisposed to despising a record like this. Biases aside, in closing I would like to make this point. Just 'cause something is for kids does not mean it has to A) Be crap, or B) Be so premeditatedly WRONG! Justin Bieber is not the first cute kid to get his likeness emblazoned on Everest-like mountains of merchandise, or to appeal to young girls who are learning about the birds and the bees in a slightly more than suggestive way, but the fact that he is picking up the trite torch that's been passed around since Doo-Wop doesn't make it any more tolerable. This young man doesn't rely on shameless gimmickry, he is it incarnate; it's as if he spun himself into being out of gossamer day dreams, notebook doodles, and corporate greed. What is worse is how I have read numerous reviews of this record that are so obviously influenced by the capitalist zeitgeist that they kowtow to this banality in order to sell their magazine or newspaper (That's right, I am talking about you RollingStone and Entertainment Weekly). Why not just ask the labels what to like, guys? Or better yet, go straight to Wall St. What happened to your souls? Or did you lose those when you raved about No Strings Attached?

This whole experience has really pissed me off. Especially the record, and his hair.