Teenage Dream: The Majestic Mystery of Kathryn Hudson

As summer slowly starts its fade into fall, as the leaves begin to think about changing, as the sun fades, and the joy and lightness of summer inexorably give way to the depth and chill of winter one thing still remains, and will, apparently, always remain.
Seasons come and go; Katy Perry is forever.

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If anyone ever seemed like a one-hit wonder waiting to happen it was Katy Perry. When “I Kissed A Girl” first appeared in summer of ’08 I would have bet my life savings on that being the only song we ever heard from the bland cipher with the bland name singing  it. But here we are two years later, two years which by the way saw only a handful of weeks without a Katy Perry single in the top 10, and there appears to be no stopping the somewhat majestic mystery that is Kathryn Hudson. Majestic because she just last week tied the King of Pop by having five singles from the same album hit #1. And a mystery because, how? And why? And who? No , seriously, who is she? And who are her fans? Has anyone ever in history said – “Yes, a Katy Perry concert!!”? And if so, who? And why? I mean what is there to attach yourself to as a fan? Even Britney Spears at 17 had more of a persona and personal story than Katy Perry. So how in the age of individualism and personal expression did the non-descript sexpot win out? How in the era of over-sharing is, statistically speaking, the biggest pop star in the country someone we know almost nothing about? And WHY ARE WE STILL TALKING ABOUT KATY PERRY??? And why aren’t we talking about her more? And, really, did we ever start?

Now that’s a lot of questions I know. More questions than anyone has likely ever asked about Katy Perry. But considering her latest album just achieved the distinction of having more #1 hits than Thriller and Rumours COMBINED, maybe we should start asking some questions. Like, for example, who the hell does she think she is taking over out pop charts like that?

Well since she’s not here to answer for herself, and since her answer likely wouldn’t be that interesting anyway (because nothing she says ever is), allow me to answer for her. Because I think I know who Katy Perry is: she’s a teenage dream.

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Here is the complete list of things most people might even potentially know about the biggest selling and, technically, most popular pop star alive: she was raised in an incredibly sheltered environment by religious nut-job parents; she started her music career as a Christian act; she’s married to Russell Brand; she possibly had a brief dalliance with Elmo; and she has very, shall we say, supple bosoms. Oh, and her music is catchy as shit. I mean "Teenage Dream" makes "Party in the USA" sound like Wilco's "Less Than You Think" And that’s not even her biggest hit. But should the catchiness of her music make the complete lack of anything particularly interesting or noteworthy about her totally irrelevant? After all music is never just about the music. Especially pop music.

So what exactly is Katy Perry selling?

Well, her attractiveness for one. According to a possibly apocryphal story Ms. Perry (allegedly) first got together with Russell Brand by sending him a cell phone picture of her breasts after the VMAs. Which, if true, is I guess her way of acknowledging that she is well aware where her bread is buttered.

(Also, move over Jane Mansfield’s boobs, Dolly Parton’s boobs, Jennifer Love Hewitt’s boobs, and Scarlett Johansson’s boobs – there’s a new contender for Most Successful Boobs of All Time)

But there’s gotta be more to it than just being a more well endowed Zooey Deschanel with a better ear for pop hooks. After all there there are a million catchy songs on the pop charts all sung by relatively attractive people. And also Ke$ha. But what separates a huge #1 hit from a middle-of-the-road hit is that it provides us with something ephemeral to latch onto. To attach ourselves to. To reach Number One a song has to in some way tap into some collective emotion or experience, whether it’s joy or giddiness or just the acknowledgment that you too kissed a girl once, and, well, kinda liked it. This isn’t something we’re always conscious of, which is why we often find ourselves liking pop hits against our seeming better judgment. But it's always there in some form or fashion. And it's what the Svengalis of pop have spent years perfecting – the ability to make a song not just catchy but universally relatable. The Black Eyed Peas are the unquestioned masters of this, what with their massive hits about starting parties, and having good nights, and rocking that body. But Katy Perry isn’t far behind. She too has a song for almost every major human experience – young love, exploring your sexuality, accepting and embracing who you are, fucking an alien, etc.

(Can we all just take a second to acknowledge the fact that at one point in American history the #1 song in the country was about having sex with an extraterrestrial? Thanks.)

But where The Black Eyed Peas’ songs are laughably broad and general, Katy Perry has been able to make songs that while equally broad are yet also somehow specific. And more importantly personally relatable. See Katy Perry isn’t pretending to be a robot or a hologram or shouting L’Chaim for no reason. She’s just a regular girl with a relatable story who likes to wear funky wigs on occasion. Her life is the new American one: the troubled upbringing, the acting out phase, the flashy quick marriage, and an adulthood full of ephemeral disposable pleasures spent trying to hang onto your youth.

So while other stars are busy selling pimped out Maybachs or dancing sacrilegious motorcycle gangs Katy Perry is selling something more familiar and relatable. She’s selling real everyday life repackaged and gussied up. She’s not trying revolutionize music; she’s just trying to do what has always worked. She’s the CBS sitcom of pop stars, only if CBS was MTV. She’s the bland, less-empowering white Beyonce. She’s the more insidious Taylor Swift. She’s not selling fantasies; she’s selling reality remade as dreams. Dreams that teenagers have. And ones that she embodies all too well.

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Perhaps it's because Katy Perry had, by all accounts, an insanely sheltered upbringing that she’s so able to tap into the mindset of a teenager. Because so often as adults we get the teenage years all wrong. They’re not poetry and art and they're not salacious spectacle. That's not what kids really want. They want Grease and Saved by the Bell and Beach Blanket Bingo. They want American Pie and Annette Funicello and Dirty Dancing. There's a reason why Awkward has worked and Skins didn’t. Because as much as teenagers might think they want to wear a meat dress, or brush their teeth with a bottle of Jack, or have an on-again off-again romance with BMX star Carey Hart, really, they respond much more to things that seem real and possible and accessible. They don’t care as much about President of the United States as they do about being Prom Queen. And they don’t want a crazy adventurous life, as much as they, deep down, just want a conventional normal one just like their friends. Which means aspiring to a simple life of fleeting shallow pleasures and no real substance. A life full of the cultural signifiers of happiness and success with nothing behind them. They don’t want a challenge or hard work or hardship. They just a good time hanging with their friends. Friends like Katy Perry who, in the immortal words of Diane Court, has "glimpsed (their) future and all I can say is...go back”. And that’s where Katy Perry differs sharply from the aforementioned Taylor Swifts and Beyonces. She never hints at growing up or facing your fears or making something of yourself. She doesn’t want you to blow off your hometown; she wants to enjoy every minute you have in it. She’s hip to the true ambitions of kids.

For (most) boys, that means getting a girl. And not just any girl - The Katy Perry Girl. One who is, like, totally super hot, but not too slutty. One who wants to have sex but who isn’t too sexually intimidating. One who likes to party and have a good time, but whom they can still take home to mom. One who won’t bog them down with all her feelings and her drama and her deep thoughts, because basically she’s just there to make them happy. A girl who wont nag them or challenge them and likes farting and sports and beer because basically they are, to quote Katy Perry’s first album title, Just One Of The Boys. Katy Perry is Smurfette (no, literally, she is). She’s the All-American Girl 2011 style.

And for (most) girls, well, Katy Perry is exactly who they are all too often taught to be. Because you can wear your cone bras ladies, but if you REALLY want to succeed in this world they better be pink and shoot white foam out of them.

And that’s why Katy Perry isn’t going anywhere. She will always be with us because we will always at some time, on some level, collectively aspire to what she represents. Like religion or fear or corporate campaign contributions she’s what keeps this engine running. Even after Kathryn Hudson is dead and gone “Katy Perry” will always live on.

She must.
Because teens always need dreams.
And we all need realities.

Thoughts on The Grammys

What has the world come to where I’m passionately rooting for Taylor Swift to win Album of the Year if for no other reason than to keep Beyonce from winning it? Is this a world where the only thing that keeps I Am Sasha Fierce from winning Album of the Year (yes the whole year) is a mainstream country music album written and performed by a teenager who can’t sing? Apparently it is. No offense to Taylor Swift, but is this really where we’re at as a people? Look, I realize the Grammys exist in some sort of strange alternate dimension, but even by their own ridiculous standards this year’s awards were laughably absurd. And worst of all, like the show itself, they weren’t even outrageously terrible enough to get outraged about. Usually I can count on something so egregious happening that I can get a whole half-page rant going the next day. And then I'll inevitably remember that the Grammys are completely invalid and irrelevant and that I’m the only person under the age of 50 who gives a fuck. But this year all the nominees were so completely mediocre that as long as I Am Sasha Fierce didn’t win Album of the Year I could literally not have cared less about what happened. And so, sure enough, right up until the last minute the one and only ridiculous thing the Grammys could do that would piss me off looked like it would actually happen. Somehow it didn’t, but the downside of that was that it meant that the proceedings were so thoroughly uninspiring that I barely had enough material to write a whole post. Even when the awards themselves blow the performances are usually compelling. Not so this year. But I knew the world would be outraged (outraged!) if I didn’t write something about an event that absolutely no one else cared about or watched. You would never forgive me. So I do this all for you....

Highlight: Pink
(Look, I think Pink should get more respect. I like what she's about. I’m a fan. But when Pink is the highlight of your awards show you might have a problem)

Lowlight: As always, Beyonce
(Or as I texted my friend: That might be my least favorite thing I’ve ever experienced in the history of my life)

Meh: Everything else
Okay, I guess I'll go more in-depth than that....

*Dear Lady Gaga and Elton John,
I have no idea what the fuck any of that was.
And I mean that in absolutely the best way possible.

*So what do the other two Black Eyed Peas do exactly? They don’t play instruments or sing and far as I can tell. What’s left?

*"Welcome to the future?" Really, Will.I.Am? So in the future people dance around on a stage unimaginatively singing their hit song at an awards show? Wow the future is CRRRRAAAZZZY.

*Very VERY high on the list of things I thought I’d never say: “Well done Jamie Foxx”

*And in an all-time great upset…Michael Jackson’s kids seem normal! How did this happen??

(Also, I’m pretty sure the Grammys just made up an award so they would have something to give Michael
Jackson. I think the name of the award was, no joke, something to the effect of The Michael Jackson Lifetime Achievement Award. Michael Jackson won the Michael Jackson Award? I did not see that one coming.)

*Man, that Quentin Tarantino is so understated. What a wallflower.

*Someone explain Drake to me. What’s next, Kenan & Kel becoming a respected rap duo who are taken seriously by the hip-hop community? Why is no one calling bullshit on this? Somewhere Tupac is rolling over in his theoretical grave. And by “somewhere” I mean “his house”.

*Continuing my regular uncalled for and unwarranted attacks on Stephen Colbert, he did a really weak job. Jon Stewart can host the Oscars and Colbert can’t even handle a few minutes of jokes at the Grammys. Check and mate my friend. (Stewart 4 Life!)

*In terms of things I look forward to every year, Neil Portnow at the Grammys is the exact opposite of Meryl Streep at the Golden Globes.

*YES! Bon Jovi gets to play not 1, not 2, but 3 songs. I can’t…wait?

*Remember that episode of Seinfeld where Jerry dates a woman who looks either great or hideous depending on the light? That woman was Katy Perry.

*I think my favorite part of the Dave Matthews performance was when he invited the kitchen sink up on stage.

*Man I really miss Kanye. It’s just not the Grammys without him. If he had appeared out of nowhere to storm the stage as Taylor Swift was accepting Album of the Year it would have definitely been the greatest moment in television history. It would have made the moon landing look like the 2005 NBA Finals.
Alas.

*Lastly: Maybe my high school experience was different than yours, so I could be way off base here, but in what high school is a statuesque blond with model good-looks who writes and performs her own music considered an undesirable dork? I mean who is this cheerleader that her friend prefers to her? Megan Fox? Is this the most attractive high school class in recorded history? I just don’t buy for a second that there’s some teenage boy who says to Taylor Swift, “you know, I know that we have similar taste in humor and music and that you’re really into me and all, but I’m sorry I’m just not attracted to you, what with your T-shirt and sneaker wearing and all.” Who is this boy? Teenage George Clooney? It’s all utterly implausible.“You Belong With Me” is to Taylor Swift what “Bad” is to Michael Jackson. And no one can tell me different.