
There's a stranger in my bed,
There's a pounding my head
Glitter all over the room
Pink flamingos in the pool
I smell like a minibar
DJ's passed out in the yard
Barbie's on the barbeque
Perry's heroine performs a quick body check, finds a "hickie or a bruise" then - to her horror - finds pictures of last nights revels posted online. She herself can remember nothing: "Its a blacked out blur / But I'm pretty sure it ruled." What she is describing is a blackout, as defined by E. M. Jellinek, and as addressed by question 17 in the "The Twenty Questions that helped me Decide That I Was Alcoholic" leaflet, published by Alcoholics Anonymous. (17. Have you ever had a complete loss of memory as a result of drinking?). Other questions that would draw an affirmative answer from Perry's hungover heroine thus far would include 4) Is your drinking affecting your reputation? (that online picture) and 7). Do you turn to lower companions and an inferior environment when drinking? (she doesn't sound too happy about those DJs crashed in her yard). And that's just by the end of the first verse.Last Friday night
Yeah we danced on tabletops
And we took too many shots
Think we kissed but I forgot
Last Friday night
Yeah we maxed our credit cards
And got kicked out of the bar
So we hit the boulevard
Last Friday night
We went streaking in the park
Skinny dipping in the dark
Then had a menage a trois
Last Friday nightBy now our concerned addiction counsellor is scribbling wildly. We've got trouble with the law; unplanned promiscuity; the hint of financial problems; the determination to stop drinking capped with the commitment to repeat the whole exercise ("This Friday night / Do it all again"). By the end of the second verse we have problems at work ("Don't know what to tell my boss"), more unmanageability ("think the city towed my car") and legal problems ("warrants out for my arrest") prompting another acknowledgement of remorse ("that was such an epic fail"), drowned out by another grim-faced avowal to repeat the whole cycle.
Yeah I think we broke the law
Always say we're gonna stop-op
Whoa-oh-oah
Rihanna presents a more battle-hardened Samurai mask to the world, as befits her faithless, cross-me-and-I'll-cut-ya persona and sullen alto. The heroine of her lyric for 'Cheers (Drink To That)', anticipating a weekend binge after a hard week, issues comradely advice to others similarly oppressed ("Don't let the bastards grind you down"), and a bellicose toast to "the freaking weekend" before leading us into the chant that makes up the chorus:-There’s a party at the bar everybody put your glasses up andHer girl is far more stewed in her resentments than Perry's, more belligerent in her stand-off against both the universe and her accusers ("People gonna talk whether you doing bad or good, yeah"), more openly dismissive of her money worries ("put it all on my card tonight, yeah / Might be mad in the morning but you know we goin hard tonight") with a regret count of zero. Her denial is outright, her hedonism less that of the hapless barbie-drunk who can't source her hickies, and more that of a battle-hardened warrior-lush, zeroing in on her objectives like a Terminator assessing kill ratios:-
I drink to that, I drink to that, I drink to that
(Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah)
Got a drink on my mind and my mind on my money, yeahThe more enjoyable drinking companion, no question. Of the 20 questions quiz, Rihanna scores only three — 6 (Have you ever got into financial difficulties as a result of drinking?) 10 (Do you crave a drink at a definite time?), and 15 (Do you drink to escape from worries or trouble?) — compared to Perry's nine. A mid-stage drunk, rather than a late-stage alcoholic. Take Perry's heroine out and you'd end the evening holding a pair of broken Blahniks and handing out Kleenex. Rihanna's gal would still be at it as you tip-toed off to bed. Our addiction counsellor would be in for a long wait.
Looking so bomb, gonna find me a honey
Got my Ray-Bans on and I’m feeling hella cool tonight, yeah
Everybody’s vibing so don’t nobody start a fight, yeah-ah-ah-ah

As the mother of an 8-year-old girl who thinks the sun shines directly out of Katie Perry's cute little backside, this essay causes me some anxiety.
ReplyDeleteDon't worry. There's not a thing a parent can do, or not do, or do wrong, or do right, in this area. Your daughter could listen to a Katy Perry record every minute of every day — she could seek to emulate her drinking habits, or those of the women in her lyrics, until the cows came home — but it still wouldn't turn her into an alkie if she is not neurologically hardwired to be one. And if she is so hardwired, there's not a record out there — not Donovan, not the Bee Gees, not the collected hits of Julie Andrews — that is going to stop it from happening.
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That Katy Perry song is vile in every way, a tuneless celebration of mindless drunkenness. Actually mindless drunkenness is more fun than that dull, formulaic number. And your analysis is far more entertaining
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