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At this point, I am car-crash fascinated by Nicole Scherzinger and the rest of the Pussycat Dolls; with every flesh-baring public appearance and “hot” single they seem more and more dissonant and out-of-place, which could be good news for people looking for a respite from the housing-bubble-fueled conspicuous consumption and vapid “sexiness” that defined so much of the new millennium. Watching them during last night’s MTV Movie Awards performance of the atrocious “When I Grow Up,” a single that’s as much a testament to becoming a C-lister through sheer will as it is proof that the winner of The Search For The Next Doll did the right thing by ditching her “prize” for a solo career, made me wonder just how essential these ladies’ future recorded-music success is to Interscope’s 2008 bottom line, because man, there is just something not right here, and I don’t just mean the fact that the other four girls in the group are actually mentioned by name. [YouTube]
Pussycat Dolls Continue To Force Themselves On World’s Populace
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Right on. They (especially this song) conveniently represent everything that’s horrifying about modern pop culture. Yet the ever-present whiff of desperation they give off means I find everything they do to be fascinating (and funny) in a witnessing-the-end-times kind of way.
The Pussycat Dolls, somewhat amazingly, manage to shirk ideology of any kind…and I don’t mean the term “ideology” in any heavy sense — it can be as simple and general as “sexuality is power” or “women are independent” or whatever else has been used again and again to package, and forge meaning out of, vapid pop music. But PCD manage an unlikely feat of science by being totally inert, void of all traces of voice or tone or personality — something I imagine would be difficult to engineer on purpose, from a marketing standpoint (as meaning can be just as easily stumbled upon accidentally). However, they’ve done it — managed to literally represent nothing. Tits and ass and fuck all. There is no intellectual justification, for even the tiniest of tween brains, for a consumer to align herself with the PCD product.
every chest thrust released desperation spores that floated into the audience like coldplay’s confetti.
i have a feeling that even the stars in the audience who would like to think of themselves as with-it (i’m looking at you, will smith) were confused by the pussycat dolls.
Garbage – When I Grow Up >>>> Pussycat Dolls – When I Grow Up
Am I wrong, because I can’t suffer through that again, but was that my beloved Donnas introducing those idiots? They should have punched the lead ’singer’ kicked the rest of them offstage, declared themselves the PussyDonnas and rocked the rest of the night away. Nobody would have missed that stupid award show anyways.
Because thats how I roll son.
Sigh. Those weren’t the Donnas. But my mind created that farce to save me I guess.
“At this point, I am car-crash fascinated by Nicole Scherzinger and the rest of the Pussycat Dolls…”
Gee, Johnston, ya THINK?
@JZ13: Begs the question: What handmovement WOULD make sense if one ‘wanted to have boobies?’
I would think something along the line of ’spirit fingers’ mixed with ‘jazz hands.’ And now I need to watch Bring It On.
The “I wanna have boobies” line is quite possibly the worst bit of songwriting in the history of the craft. The hand motions that went along with it didn’t help, either.