Dissonant Notes

Thursday, August 21, 2014

‘Blurred Lines’ and the Banality of Male Sexuality



I’m going to be honest here, I initially tried to ignore the criticisms of ‘Blurred Lines’. After ‘Get Lucky’ I was hungry for another pop smash and ‘Blurred Lines’ seemed to fit the bill. Then I picked up on the rumblings of discontent. According to one commentator the song was “kind of rapey” and played around with ideas of consent. After a few listens I couldn’t deny the song’s inherent creepiness, yet it seemed to me that deciding whether or not the song was an endorsement of rape (I don’t think it is) was not the only thing up for discussion. As far as I can see, the song seems to revel in some very dubious and also thoroughly predictable elements of male sexuality, and worst of all it does so with an unshakable sense of self-assurance.

Some people may question why anyone would be upset in the first place. Didn’t Odd Future build their career with songs about rape? Yes, but there’s a vital difference. Odd Future knew they were courting controversy. It was part of their appeal. Same with an artist like G.G. Allin. His intent was to shock. Robin Thicke seemed totally unprepared for any criticisms of ‘Blurred Lines’. It didn’t even occur to him that anybody would be upset. He genuinely believes the song is sexy. Say what you will about someone like Eazy-E but I’m betting he didn’t pen ‘Nutz On Ya Chin’ because he thought it would bring a little romance to the evening. Part of the problem with ‘Blurred Lines’ is that it unquestioningly accepts its own worldview. It doesn’t think it’s controversial. The song overflows with the confidence of the straight male who is perfectly secure with his place in the world. Yet in doing so it betrays a narrow-minded, regressive, and unimaginative idea of human sexuality.

First off, the lyrics are not sexy. Not in any way, shape, or form. Thicke’s idea of sexiness is getting “blasted” and smoking some weed. We already have a problem. Here is a song that thinks it’s ‘Kiss’ by Prince but is in fact ‘Why Don’t We Get Drunk’ by Jimmy Buffett. Why exactly does Thicke want his lady friend to get wasted? So she can lose her inhibitions. So she can let go of the “good girl” that stops her from truly enjoying sex and tap into her inner animal. So basically Robin Thicke’s sexy, playful song is about taking a “good girl”, getting her drunk/high, and then fucking her. No mention of the pleasures she will receive. Nothing about 23 positions in a one night stand. She’ll be wasted. She’ll have sex. One thing’s for sure, Robin Thicke knows she wants it. Is it rape? Perhaps not, but it certainly doesn’t sound like seduction. It sounds like bad sex. It sounds like a man getting off on the idea that a “good girl” finds him attractive. It sounds like a man with some very clichéd views about what women, and men, want from any given sexual encounter.


Why exactly does he want a “good girl” anyway? What is a “good girl”? This aspect of the song seems to tap into one of the most overused and objectionable ideas about female sexuality. A woman is either a virgin or a whore. A good girl or a bad girl. Many men want good girls because it gives them a feeling of conquest and power and because the idea of a mature, sexually experienced woman terrifies them. ‘Blurred Lines’ revels in the idea of the male liberator who frees the frigid woman by getting her wasted and fucking her. Deep down, that’s all she needed. For some reason many men approach the idea of female sexuality with the one thought that women are too uptight. They need to let their hair down. They need to let themselves enjoy things. Things like sex. The problem can’t lie with the man or his limited technique. If the woman would just relax she would enjoy a man taking charge and giving her what she needs. The man knows that ultimately she wants it.

We are at the point where (I hope) rape is seen as repugnant by the majority of men and the idea that, deep down, women desire to be raped is met with real disgust. Yet the idea that a straight woman desires a masculine man to take control and simply give her a good, hard seeing to is one which continues to have credibility. Even though Morrissey claimed that he spent his teenage years in the feminist section of his local library he still felt the need to include the line, “It took a tattooed boy from Birkenhead, to really, really open her eyes” in The Smiths’ song ‘What She Said’. It passes for wisdom and insight to insinuate that the conflicted female merely wishes to give up control and be used as an instrument for male sexual satisfaction. Only through female surrender can either party achieve true fulfillment.



Underneath the cocksure strut of the masculine straight male, however, there lies fear. Repeating “I know you want it” over and over sounds more like something to make the man feel better than the woman. It gives the man confidence in his sexuality. The pornography industry is built on the idea of unlimited male sexual power and its appeal lies in its portrayal of the man being the one who, in the majority of cases, holds the power in sexual matters. The reason Thicke, and a large percentage of men, hate these “blurred lines” is because they yearn for simplicity and uncomplicated sexual relations. Can’t we stop with the discussions about gender roles, gender confusion, gender as a societal construct, and just let a man do his thing? Feminism has by now sown so many seeds of doubt into the male mind in regards to WHAT WOMEN WANT that for many the solution is to get back to basics and just revel in antiquated ideas about sexuality and ‘natural’ male superiority.

The fact that anyone still entertains any kind of notion about ‘what women want deep down’ is an embarrassment. Some men get off on the idea of being cheated on. Does anyone think that’s what all men want deep down? Some men get off on wearing nappies. Some men get off on being humiliated by a whip-wielding dominatrix. Yet only women’s sexuality is ever brought back to the same basic idea: women are uptight and when all is said and done they want a man to be the boss in the bedroom.

Is ‘Blurred Lines’ about rape? No. What it’s really about is how banal mainstream male sexuality is. No sensuality. No femininity. No wit. (The song’s only real attempt at humour is the line “What rhymes with hug me?”. Oh, I don’t know… drug me?). Just boring, vacuous strutting. Get drunk and have sex. Although inspired by Marvin Gaye, it contains none of his tortured sexual pleading or promises of physical pleasure. It merely says “Let me fuck you, I know you want it”. It’s not cheeky; it’s just pathetic.

Honestly, I love blurred lines. Human beings are complex, inscrutable creatures, and that complexity is about the only thing that makes life interesting. There seem to be constant complaints about the modern world and how we address issues like gender, identity, sexuality, race, and ethnicity. Some want to run from this, yearning for a simpler time when any kind of deviation from the norm was suppressed and brushed under the carpet. Yet, for those who rejoice in expressions of freedom and the enhancement of individuality, these modern times are a period of great unfolding. The straight white male stranglehold on the Western narrative grows weaker every day. It’s sad that people still have to explain to the Robin Thickes of the world exactly why ‘Blurred Lines’ represents such a problem. Despite its overwhelming success, Thicke seems resentful that the moronic, witless, blundering worldview of ‘Blurred Lines’ should even be questioned. I will say this: if your idea of a good time is getting a woman blasted and tearing her ass in two, then do everyone a favour and stay home tonight.

I confess that every time ‘Blurred Lines’ comes on the radio, I stay on that station. I find the music to be unbearably catchy. On the surface it feels like a fun song. The music and melody have an undeniable pop appeal that can almost make me forget the words. Almost. Yes, I realise there’s an irony in the fact that, despite my criticisms, I still enjoy it on some level. Perhaps the greater lesson here is that if Thicke wasn’t such a dullard, if he had shown a bit more wit and intelligence, then I could have enjoyed the song unconditionally. Every time the song ends I feel like there’s been a missed opportunity, that the whole experience could have been so much better. Listening to the lyrics, I’m sure this is something Robin Thicke is more than used to hearing.

(This article originally appeared on Collapse Board)

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