Music Rant: Rude
It’s not enough to be as bland and samey as the rest of pop lately, it seems. MAGIC! and their unnecessarily capitalized band name have to go and write a song featuring some choice misogynistic lyrics, which I dislike, and am going to dissect, line by line, for the next five to six hundred words.
Saturday morning jumped out of bed, and put on my best suit.
Got in my car and raced like a jet, all the way to you.
Nothing objectionable there, if you don’t count that atrocious simile.
Knocked on your door with heart in my hand, to ask you a question.
Ah, well look at that, he’s probably going to propose to his significant other! That’s adorable! Or maybe it’s to ask them on a date or something!
'Cause I know that you're an old-fashioned man, yeah
Well that settles who exactly the significant other is. They’re in love.
Can I have your daughter for the rest of my life?
Here we go. MAGIC(!), if you look at the top of your phone, or in the bottom right hand corner of a computer monitor, or at a calendar, you’ll notice that we’re a few years in to the twenty first century. You can’t possess people. Asking to have someone’s daughter is a question that wouldn’t have been out of place a hundred years ago, but now it’s off.
Say yes, say yes, ‘cause I need to know
Furthermore, even if you equate marriage to owning your wife, her father certainly doesn’t own her. The only person you should be asking is your bride to be. Her father is not her pre-husband custodian.
You say I’ll never get your blessing ‘til the day I die
Tough luck, my friend, but the answer is ‘No’
Blessing. There’s an antiquated concept. If you ask her father for a blessing, you are implying that her decision does not have weight until dear old dad gives the go ahead. It doesn’t matter if it’s ceremonial, it doesn’t matter if you intend to disobey. It’s the asking that’s the problem.
Why you gotta be so rude?
Well, really all he said was a fairly common idiom, that you’ll never get his blessing till the day you die. It’s a perfectly polite way to say it, really. Unless he said it in a particularly gruff voice.
Don’t you know I’m human too?
You never mentioned any implications he may have made about your sub-humanity. That might have been important to mention.
Why you gotta be so rude? I’m gonna marry her anyway.
Well isn’t that good for you! Aren’t you just an absolute font of modernity! Imagine that, marrying a girl without her father’s consent. What a dazzling assault on the patriarchy! It boggles the mind!
Marry that girl, marry her anyway. Marry that girl, no matter what yo say.
Marry that girl, and we’ll be a family. Why you gotta be so rude, rude.
Lyrical genius, obviously. In the words of Bo Burnham,“And how could love be wrong? How could love be wrong? When you repeat stuff, repeat stuff repeat stuff, repeat stuff, repeat stuff repeat stuff […]” These lyrics have already been covered, so we’ll just move along to the next verse.
I hate to do this, you leave no choice, can’t live without her.
Well, you had a choice left to you before. You might have forgone the whole question, and just done what is pretty much expected in our modern society. Now, however, you really do have no choice.
Love me or hate me we will be both standing at that altar
Or we will run away, to another galaxy, you know
You know she’s in love with me, she will go anywhere I go.
Consensually, I’m sure. Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll skip listening to you repeat the first half of the song twice more, and go read some Sylvia Plath, or something. Enjoy the piles and piles of royalty money, friends.