Get it? Kind of like Still Dre? Still de-constructing? No? Alright.
I do not like pop music, although it is not a virulent self-righteous dislike. It is more an apathetic one. I could not care less for this new cacophony. I love old cacophony. I came across Taylor Swift and Kendrick Lamar’s song Bad Blood and quite enjoyed it. I like Bad Blood but probably not for the reasons you might think. I do not think I would have liked it if it was just Taylor singing. Kendrick brought the song together, as it were. I could not name another Taylor Swift song to save a baby from a burning building.
I have been enjoying Kendrick’s music since Section 80, before a lot of people could have predicted his mainstream success. Saying I do not listen to his music any more because he is now mainstream would be self-righteous. We all know a smarmy condescending
arse-wipe person like that, be it with television series, books or pretty much anything else where a person can have preferences. I am waiting for lovers of The Weeknd to jump on this unfortunate wagon, now that this song is being played on radio. A friend told me she heard it on X FM recently. Repent ye, for the end times are nigh!
I do not know what the worse implication here is: that I am racist or that I am sexist. What if it was Eminem on the rap? What if it was Justin Timberlake singing, or Sam Smith or Janelle Monae or Marsha Ambrosius or Adelle? What if it was Missy Elliott on the rap, or Diams? What if it was Iggy Azalea on the rap?… Now, this last one I would not have bothered to listen to, na sina aibu nikisema hivyo.
You get the point. Do race and gender, or sexuality even, influence the music that is made and that we listen to? I strongly suspect so, and probably more than we care to admit. Hmmm… Maybe I will get to expand more on this when I study race and gender and music and how and where they intersect. This is, as always, a probe. There are more questions than answers for now. In the meantime, wacha niendelee kungoja Detox ya mtu wangu Dr Dre.