It’s notable how the crudeness (both sweary and sexually suggestive) of language in our pop music has evolved – if evolved be the correct term – over the decades.
First the coyness of the fifties and even the sixties (bar the odd “one eyed cat” style innuendo) became a grunting – but still a tad vague plea to “get it on”.
Then, in the eighties Olivia Newton John wanted to “get physical” (*wink*) and a “rock” was still out of the question.
Fast forward to the 21st Century and we’ve had two F**k Yous and a F**k You Right Back at number one and, in the same exalted chart position, been invited to suck on Isaac Hayes’ chocolate salty balls.
The runaway favourite for album of the year is called Norman F**king Rockwell and one of its catchier numbers is called F**k it, I Love You.
Not coincidentally, NFR is the work of a female artist.
An unexpected consequence of my journey over recent years from mostly listening to sweaty, lairy geezers to predominantly grooving to sweet, fragrant ladies has been the massive increase in filth coming in my ears. Blokes like to sing about shagging but les femmes seem to sing about nothing but.
So what? We’re all grown ups, you might say, but two things I really like to do are listen to music in my car and sometimes this means stopped in traffic with the windows open and also to make cds for my friends – some of whom are actual, living women – where, even after I’ve screened for the very obvious p***ies and d**ks, there are songs whose real meaning has evaded me over the first dozen hearings but become alarming clear only after the Jiffy bag has gone in the post.
Mostly, it just bugs me that someone has come up with a really catchy, proper pop song but the language employed excludes it from universal play, as with these examples, among the most hummable tunes from last year and this…
..Now, Heaven Knows, B***ing Some ***s!
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(Tove Lo – Glad He’s Gone)
I’d a thought that most grown up ladies are probably as comfortable with swearing as blokes, today. And thank fuck for that 😉
Yes, the swearing’s not a problem with the ladies – especially Irish ladies who luxuriate in foul language, but I’m still uncomfortable filling gift cds with songs that paint such vivid pictures of assorted sexual gymnastics. I usually start with a playlist of 50+ songs and then it’s “not that one”… “or that”… until I’m struggling to fill the bugger…
“I’m struggling to fill the bugger”…. not sure about your choice of words there feller.
hurrrrrrrr
PS) does anyone under 40 say “bugger”? I don’t think so. It seems they’ve no problem doing it, mind.
Hahaha! I just spat out my coffee!
Personally I’m more annoyed by loud music in cars with the windows open 😉
When Mrs thep first arrived from Oz she brought with her the habit of saying, ‘Fuck me dead!’ very loudly in the office when something annoyed her, usually accompanied by slamming the phone down. Her colleagues were charmed.
And then there’s the books – “The Subtle Art of Not Gving A F**k” and various offsh**ts. Anyone read one?
Yes. The first one.
Although, as with most non fiction I run out of interest around two thirds in and give up. I believe most of them could lose 200 pages and still get the same message out.
Twat*
My first thought was of the Kaiser Chiefs…. then I realised that my memory was substituting the “special version” I once heard some young fellows singing on the bus for the actual record. Altogether now…
“Fucking hell – I can’t believe it, I’ve never been this far away from home”
Just out of interest- which bus were you on, and was it really that far away from home?
I was on the number 13, which in those days before the interchange was built, started on Bond Street* and terminated at the Orchard Park Tesco. If aforesaid lads had been Orchard Park residents they’d have been about a mile and a half from home when they were singing thing, so it was a pretty damnable misuse of the song, quite apart from the unnecessary foul language.
(*that’s Bond Street HU1, not Bond Street off Monopoly)
What a time to be alive in ‘ull! I always thought the Bond St termini were a lot more conveniently situated for the average bus traveller than Paragon St.
Can we add to the informed comments about bus termini in Hull, please? I’ve never been, but if I ever go, it would be very useful information. Thanking you in advance.
Yes. The new station or “transport Interchange*” is very exciting because a few people have been killed crossing the road next to it, which is quite an achievement when none of the buses move at more than five miles an hour.
(*so much more glamorous than “Bus Station”)
A few years ago also stolen by Leeds United fans on their occasional away wins.
“Fucking hell – I can’t believe it Leeds won away from home”
Given that the band themselves are from Leeds and are Leeds fans, a forgivable bit of larceny.
John Grant – GMF
A properly hummable melody, wry witty lyrics, and a well acted video,
But the phrase “Greatest Mother Fucker” is not going to get radio play, and the radio edit – Greatest Living Creature – just doesn’t seem to have the same feeling (nearly, but not quite if you’ve heard the original version)
I saw him live at WOMAD a few years back and much as I liked the music I couldn’t enjoy the songs because of the excessive sweariness. And his between-song chat was the same too. It was so sweary it actually became excruciatingly uncomfortable for me to listen and I left before the end. A few people I met in the town a few days later had exactly the same problem with him
A couple of gems there from Ady, who I had never heard of Tove who, quite rightly, is very popular here. Loved that video and her sassy attitude. Potty mouthed and proud.
As regards the compilations, I would just go for it, unless of course you are doing one for the lady vicar. A little more thought needed there perhaps?
Is it Midsommer or whatever you call it over there? Never accept drugs from a stranger
As for them ladies swearing and bitching – I think we might just cut them some slack. Maybe we should give them like a thousand years or so to get over the fact they have been oppressed for like forever before they can just shake their pretty little heads and say “Boys, what can you do, what are they like?”
They are not all pretty though
The amount of swearing in modern chart music is one of my great bugbears – and I realise what a grumpy old prude that makes me sound. Over a third of the tracks in the current UK Top 40 playlist on Spotify have the E for ‘Explicit’ symbol on them. It shouldn’t bother me at all but it does for some reason. Mainly because I want my kids to enjoy chart music, but don’t feel we can listen to it together in the car.
My wife has such a delicate tongue that even the dogs know what Fuck Off means, and, when told, they do.
The songs are more about sex, rather than love and the swearing sounds aggressive to me. Sex and money being used to assert status, control and/or revenge. These are great conditions for misogynists and up-themselves bell ends the world over. Yet they are on the playlists of otherwise very “woke” people.
Perhaps it’s the same part of our character that loved Carry On films and Benny Hill?
Up-themselves bell-ends? There’s a lot going on there
It’s someone who is a bell end who sticks his entire self up his own arse. It’s quite straightforward.
Crikey!
I’m still clutching my pearls* from hearing Al Stewart use the word “fucking” on Love Chronicles.
What a flipping rotter.
I remember hiding that one from my Mum and Dad, because they were like, old, and would be shocked. If they’d ever heard the word, of course. Hey – Fairport and Jimmy Page are on that album! It’s slapping!
Slapping what? Don’t do it too hard, you’ll crack the shellac.