/This post has been commandeered by guest blogger Don Bito/
Katy Perry: Cheap Zooey Deschanel knock-off? Definitely. Responsible for some of the most inane music and backwards lyrics in recent pop history? For sure. A sign of the coming apocalypse? Quite possibly.
But today, readers, Katy Perry is the catalyst of a blogging decision I may soon come to regret.
I’ve given a lot of thought to what I could possibly say about Waking Up in Vegas. Lyrically, this song is extra-spicy lame sauce. While I (sort of) appreciate the weak attempt to weave some semblance of a story into the song, the lyrics fall into the same over-simplified and cliche-ridden trap as every other KP song I’ve heard.
(Such as Hot N Cold, which – by the way, can we talk about it for a(nother) second? – reads like a pre-school-level children’s book of opposites:
You’re hot then you’re cold
you’re yes then you’re no
you’re in then you’re out
you’re up then you’re down
My “B.” I meant “a pre-school-level children’s book of the most basic possible cliches of opposites.”)
It’s kind of a shame because the music video does a pretty amusing job of telling the story…but when KP sings lines like “You’re hungover and I’m broke,” “I lost my fake ID,” and “Did we get hitched last night?” it sounds like a 14-year-old kid writing a story about what they think it would be like to go to Vegas.
It’s safe to say that this song is suffering two major setbacks: 1) Katy Perry sings it and 2) Katy Perry wrote it (along with 2 other people. Mind: blown.)
But in spite of these things, readers, in spite of my own pretenses to good taste and sound judgment, in spite of the bile rising in my throat as I type these words, I cannot bring myself to say definitively that Waking Up In Vegas sucks.
It’s just so darn danceable. It does, in fact, make me want to “get up and shake the glitter off my clothes” (as far as I’m concerned, the one redeemable line/image in the song.)
Take from this what you will. Personally, I will never play this song in my car with the windows rolled down. However, if it happens to play while I’m (drunk and) in sight of a crowded dance floor… I… will be on that dance floor.
And I will be dancing.
In an attempt to rationalize my feelings for this song, I’ve rounded up a couple of decent remixes (Manhattan Clique, Calvin Harris) for your listening pleasure. And if you don’t believe a remix can take a song from shameful to acceptable, listen to Jojo’s Too Little Too Late before and after the Harris Dance Remix. And then email me all your dirty little pop secrets at firstname.lastname@example.org.