False Body Positivity in Pop Music

The pop music industry ends 2014 with a pair of body positive songs reminiscent of Dove's Real Beauty campaign. Like the Real Beauty Campaign, these songs send the right message to their young, mostly female listeners but also carrying with them misleading implications. Let me just take this moment to give a disclaimer: While I am a music lover myself, I have not been closely following the trends in popular music in the last eight or nine years—even much less in the last five years. As a matter of fact, I have spent the last three years revisiting rock music of twenty and thirty years ago, surprising myself with how much I enjoy them as a twenty-something. Naturally, I've been out of touch with "what's hot and what's not" because I've become more interested in "what's good and what isn't." I am no longer interested in the personal lives of celebrities and find the new ones' appearance and image hugely irrelevant that I find myself identifying most of the songs in the radio as "I like that one" or "Please, skip that one." When I watch music videos on TV, I might identify a few of the "artists" that came after Lady Gaga, but even if I know their names or what they look like, I might stop paying attention when they start talking about their image or when a VJ starts blabbering about the celebrity's recent "scandals." I have quite a few opinions about some of them that might either display my ignorance regarding these musical celebrities or show them for what they really are.

Regardless, let's get to the topic at hand. These two songs I've only heard for the first time in the last few weeks despite being months old by now. I've heard a lot about them before I got to listen to them myself. So I took as long as I can to not listen to them in full in case I go on a rampage of rage like I did following Miley Cyrus' controversial "We Can't Stop" and "Wrecking Ball." But when I started going to the gym in late October, I found myself back in the day when my eyes and ears were open to media solely because there is a radio or TV turned on in the same room.

All About That Bass

So I first heard Meghan Trainor's "All About That Bass" while I'm in the treadmill. When I absorbed the message about accepting yourself even if you're a bit heavy, I appreciated it. But when I've heard it a few more times in the next several days, I noticed this one disturbing line including the phrase "skinny bitches."  It's at the 1:30 mark in the video below:

This is also my problem with Nicki Minaj's "Anaconda"—more on that later. The hateful attitude toward "skinny bitches" undermines the reason for "fat positivity" in the first place: that slim women are desirable. The music video for "All About That Bass" even features a shot of a full-figured woman forcibly bumping a nearly skeletal woman off the frame with her butt. That's a pretty violent image for a video that's supposed to be about loving yourself. Why should loving your fat body have to involve hating someone who is thin, to prove your point? Besides, the desirable kind of skinny isn't the skeletal type anyway; tabloids have slammed freakishly thin celebrities like Lindsay Lohan, Nicole Richie, and Hilary Duff because they have so obviously mistaken being slim with being skeletal. The attractive kind of skinny is soft somehow.

Natalie Portman. Of course.

There is one more thing that another Internet personality has pointed out that I'm mostly ambivalent about. Todd in the Shadows from the That Guy with the Glasses website has observed that the message of the song is skewed because the persona's self-confidence is dependent on being desirable to men instead of the more progressive ideal that "I'm comfortable to be chubby because I'm happier this way." I don't disagree with him, but I understand that the lyrics are something that teenage girls can understand better somehow.

One last thing that I find disturbing about "All About that Bass" is the message that "every inch of you is perfect from the bottom to the top." This is not true. If you have to tell yourself this just to boost your fragile ego, you are certainly flawed. Don't fall into the trap of perpetuating a delusion of grandeur that you are "perfect" even with cellulite and stretch marks. A much healthier perspective is to look at those flaws, take them and accept them, and tell yourself that you have other, more important traits.

If you are listening to this song because you have body image issues, stop listening and pursue a healthy lifestyle by losing weight not just because people might like you more but because you will feel and function better. The harsh reality is that people can and will look at your appearance first before bothering with the inner you, so if you want to be accepted, you might as well be as pretty as you can be.

I have been overweight for the last fifteen years of my life. I have struggled with not being able to wear what I want and hearing only comments about my size even from my closest relatives. The nicest remarks people ever say to me was "How slim you seem in your outfit today!" only because I either got very ill recently or I was wearing a great outfit that day. I haven't reached my normal BMI in the last five years. My weight took its toll not only on my body; I also moved more slowly; grew tired more easily; and became more irritable than ever. However, I was determined to at least be and feel beautiful as a fat person because, obviously, I'm not going to shrink back overnight.

A good attitude about body image wasn't enough. I felt like I probably won't ever get taken seriously unless I literally look my best. So I took boxing sessions and have become slimmer and stronger. I haven't lost my weight yet because I'm building muscle as quickly as I am losing fat.  Even now, only two months after I started, I am not only more slender; I am also quicker, stronger, and more alert. It became easier to think positive because I don't have to rely on pop songs to make me feel better; I feel better because of what I do for myself.

Anaconda

As I mentioned before, my biggest problem with "Anaconda" is that it perpetuates a hateful attitude toward "skinny" women. Deciding to be chubby and feel beautiful at the same time doesn't give you the excuse to look upon thin women with resentment and then decide that they must be ugly by comparison to you. If women of any shape and size are beautiful then thin women are just as beautiful as fat women, plain and simple.




"Anaconda" is also that kind of "butt song" that perpetuates that disvalue that Todd in the Shadows has pointed out regarding "All About That Bass": that a woman's self-confidence doesn't come from the self-satisfaction of being intelligent, successful, or influential, but from being physically and sexually attractive to the opposite sex. While this is a perfectly legitimate reason to be self-confident, it shouldn't be the be-all and end-all of the issue. Women aren't made to be sex objects; women are human beings with aspirations. Even if these aspirations do include wanting to be a good wife and mother, that's fine; but one has to learn that she doesn't have to seek social validation for one's looks because looks aren't everything.

Late to the Show: Anaconda

I finally dared myself to watch "Anaconda" after watching Todd in the Shadows' review of it:


I kept encountering thumbnails in the Internet about how controversial it is. And after hearing it a few times in the radio, I've become curious about the music video. But for a long time, I refused to watch it. I refused to go anywhere near it because I remember how violently I felt about Miley Cyrus' "We Can't Stop" and "Wrecking Ball," and I didn't want that kind of unnecessary negativity in my spirit. So I asked around about the video, and somebody I trust told me that "Anaconda" was so awful it's actually more shocking than anything Lady Gaga came up with.

With Lady Gaga as a reference point, I was somewhat disappointed when I did watch "Anaconda" on YouTube. Besides the overt innuendo and objectification in the video, there was nothing in "Anaconda" that really sets it apart from any other hip-hop hit. Sex sells—Nicki Minaj is all about sexy—you do the math. As for the song, it's fun to listen to; and it doesn't seem to be the kind of song you would really think about when you listen to it—just like any other hip-hop song as of late. It's the same with the music video. I've seen the same kind of imagery before with 50 Cent, Puff Daddy, Pharrell, or Snoop Dogg.

But I do agree with Todd in the Shadows about one thing: that nasty attack on "skinny bitches" toward the end of the song. People, let's get this straight: Becoming comfortable and happy about being on the heavy side does not give anyone license to say that thin people are unattractive. People of all shapes and sizes are beautiful in their own way; let's leave it at that. If you want an example of a beautiful thin person, take Keira Knightley.

Other than that, "Anaconda" isn't all that "shocking" in any way. Before I actually heard the song, I expected that it was shocking because it's about some guy's anaconda, if you know what I mean. That was disappointing, too. I was really expecting Nicki to be singing about admiring her man's anaconda. As a straight woman, I think that would have been pretty interesting. Instead, well, as Todd in the Shadows described it, it only rehashed "Baby Got Back" and added nothing much to it. "If you wanted a song about butts, why don't you just listen to that?" he demanded. You got me, Todd.

On Emilie Autumn

Last night, I discovered a YouTuber who is severely disenchanted with Emilie Autumn for quite a few good reasons (though I admit she has several misses herself). Though I'm glad there's another fan (she still likes Emilie Autumn, the same way I like Evanescence but not Amy (not anymore)) who is brave enough to say that Emilie Autumn can't sing. There are only a couple of songs where she doesn't go off key or over-the-top.

Still, I like what she stands for, and even though this other fan is quick to point out inconsistencies of Autumn's statements (and calling her a liar at one point), somehow I still want to believe that Autumn is a strong, intelligent, and talented person who represents Wild Woman: intuitive, sexy, and vicious when she has to be. Though she definitely goes out of line once in a while.

However, I admit I'm having second thoughts about her that I might not get my fictional characters to be fans of hers. But that's just a thought. After all, I remain an Evanescence fan while I can go out of my way to call Amy Lee a poseur.

Six and a Half Years Ago ...

Whenever I hear this song or see the video, I see my first few days alone in the dorm, June 2005. I remember the awful feeling of being left completely alone as my parents said goodbye and closed the dorm's door. I was alone, several miles from home. Feeling sad then was rather odd, considering I had been looking forward to a taste of independence, whatever that meant. I wondered what my classmates would be like. I felt scared. I hadn't expected to make it this far. Only six months earlier, I had been wondering if I would live to see college.


I remember sitting on the newly waxed floor of my dorm bedroom, listening to the noises outside. Even as I looked into the afternoon light from the window, all I saw was a gaping void, pretty much like an empty page nobody could ever fill.


My iPod Shuffle was becoming faulty, but I didn't mind. I listened to this song to give myself hope that maybe something was here for me. I was going to do what I want. Perhaps what made this song special is because it somehow gave me hope - that somehow, if I held on, I just might get what I've always wanted. And I did. I learned again what it was like to be happy and to see others happy because you are happy. For the first time in 17 years, I felt real companionship, to have others love me and respect me and never look at my cankles and funny gait and wonder if I'm not quite normal.


I listen to this song now, and I feel hot around the ears. I feel the heavy air in the University Belt and see the chaotic roads with its drivers and fare collectors calling for nervoous students that have become heedless of the smog and muck staining their pressed uniforms brown by the pre-semestral exams. I remember dodging pesky beggar kids who think they can demand for money or a meal when my tuition takes several years of my parents' jobs. I remember entering the UST Museum and feel like I'm in Heaven.

I remember racing for the LRT on the way to Buendia's Batangas-bound buses and back. The air was hot and humid even at twilight. Yet I enjoyed watching people pass by the train. I remember wondering what they are like - what they do, what they love, what they live for. There are so many people in such a big city, and plenty more in the surrounding provinces. Yet nearly all of them are insignificant to me; and I knew I was insignificant to nearly all of them, too. They look at me having no idea that I spoke and sang at the age of two and recited numbers 1-10 in English, Tagalog, and Spanish. They look at me not knowing I was member of my school's Gifted and Talented Educational Program where I skipped a lot of sessions out of sheer lack of motivation because of constant bullying.

Yet I still found joy in reading poems posted on the LRT's interiors and at the same time sorrow and guilt and frustration that I missed out on a lot of opportunities. I write well, but I write mediocre poetry; I attempt at sonnets never knowing how good I am. My prose is good, obviously; my fiction is even better. Call me a megalomaniac frustrated poet, but even now, I feel like I could have done better. Yet I know that being 'the best I can be' was virtually impossible under the circumstances, considering my personality and all I've been through.

But even through all that, I look back in wonder and think, wow! It's been six years since? Almost seven? This was what I hadn't imagined before: that I would still be alive and actually happy.

I look at my writing and tell myself I have so much to offer. Then, I listen to Stonefree's "Sayang" and convince myself that yes, my life is too good to waste.

An Epiphany as Bright as a Thousand Suns

I listened to Linkin Park’s new album A Thousand Suns and totally fell in love with it. Perhaps it was because of my recent fondness for alternative musicians like Björk, Tori Amos, Emilie Autumn and Rasputina that drew me to Linkin Park’s experimental electronic sound, which deviates from their signature nu rock sound. Many fans have been put off by this. To them, Linkin Park isn’t Linkin Park without the guitar riffs, Chester’s screams alternated with Mike’s raps, Mr. Hahn’s scratches and angst-ridden lyrics. I am one of those few fans who believe that being fans means being loyal to their favorite bands no matter how much they change.

Personally, I respect Linkin Park even more now that they’ve broken out of nu rock. I think their electronic music feels more real in a way. It’s more powerful and poetic rather than excessively woeful and melodramatic. It’s very refreshing to me. The band has matured with their fan base although the fan base has been tragically divided since Minutes to Midnight. Upon the release of A Thousand Suns, fans have either rejected the new sound because this wasn’t what they loved, or embraced it as an artistic development while claiming that accepting the changes that their favorite band experiences is what true fans do. I’m more inclined toward the latter.

I was thirteen when I first became a fan of Linkin Park and I have loved their music very much throughout my adolescent years. The music and lyrics from their first two albums Hybrid Theory and Meteora spoke to me. The raw anguish and sorrow bubbled into a deliciously sour stew; how could I, as a victim of bullying dealing with disappointment over wasted potential, not swallow it up? I felt release upon Chester Bennington’s screams; I felt power upon Mike Shinoda’s rapping. The exquisite blending of rock and hip-hop put me in awe; the absence of profanity earned the band my respect for expressing angst without needing swear words to drive a point.

But I entered college and my life changed forever. I gained the friends I have craved for so long. I experienced acceptance from peers who didn’t laugh or make faces when I expressed my self. I also gained a wide amount of knowledge from philosophy and literature. I learned to appreciate the human experience and everything that comes with it. I learned that art encompasses a wide range of media and genres that appeal to an even wider range of tastes; for example, I agree that Metallica and KISS are epic pop culture icons although I don’t appreciate their music all that much. In other words, I think I have a clear idea on what good music is and Linkin Park’s new sound is just that.

Also, shortly before the release of Minutes to Midnight, I’ve encountered “haters” on the internet that label Linkin Park as “emo” for their melodramatic lyrics; they hated Linkin Park exactly for what I had loved them for in the first place. At first, I laughed it off because it is true that Linkin Park is known for songs that explore rather shallow adolescent issues like self-hate and parental “neglect”. But after some contemplation, I realized that those complaints about Linkin Park are legitimate; there are more issues worth singing about than an anonymous person not caring about you.

So when I listened to Minutes to Midnight, I experienced healing and hope and maturity. I’ve grown up and so has my favorite band. They’re not the way they used to be; the same can be said for me, and I’m glad I’ve left the old “me” behind. Linkin Park is Linkin Park no matter what kind of music they play, just as Stephen King exudes as much talent in Children of the Corn as in Hearts in Atlantis.

Then, A Thousand Suns came out, bringing back the electronic sound that was largely absent from Minutes to Midnight. I love that about A Thousand Suns. And the songs are relentless, unrepentant and unforgiving; a few of them have subtly attacked old songs, indicating newfound hope and freedom as well as a mature perspective of the world. Minimal profanity has also been put to use too, which is surprisingly not a big deal. Linkin Park has gone on record to say that in playing a new sound in this new album, they are not interested in selling records but in artistic expression, an exploration of new music with profound poetry.

I have great respect for Linkin Park. As an artist myself, I want to follow in their footsteps and shine with the light of a thousand suns too.

Another Epiphany: Enjoying the Backstreet Boys Again

Since becoming a self-proclaimed rock fan in the last eight years, my rediscovery of rock music (especially from the 90’s) led me to think that it’s shameful to like rock music but have a history of having my entire bulletin board covered in Backstreet Boys posters. In my teens particularly, my fixation with Linkin Park, and later also Avril Lavigne and Evanescence, somehow taught me a pessimistic/naturalistic worldview, and I thought that Backstreet Boy songs were essentially meaningless. I was certainly disillusioned when boy band contemporaries Britney Spears and Christina Aguilera (whose music videos I tried to dance along with at the age of 12) turned out to be “frauds”—Britney having already lost her virginity at age 14 and nothing more than a sex symbol; and Christina downplaying her own superior singing talent for using sex appeal with her fake boobs. It doesn’t help that in recent years, I’ve also become disillusioned with nü metal, which is now viewed by the wide internet community to be “emo”, because unlike 90’s rock and roll, which incorporated heartfelt poetry with inventive electronic sounds (complex guitar riffs; in Nine Inch Nails’ case, industrial music), nü metal is repetitive, passing off verses brimming with petty and shallow teen angst as songs when plastered onto rhythms that sound the same with nearly every band in the same category.

Now finding myself suddenly squirming in delight again from videos of Nick Carter on YouTube (music videos, interviews AND his vlogs) as well as viewing the Backstreet Boys videos I loved when I was younger, I felt somehow rejuvenated. Even when I found myself cringing in embarrassment over the choreography and hand gestures, I felt—happy.

I acknowledge that I might actually be regressing right now, but something tells me that my desire to conform (ironically, to nonconformist music) is not worth becoming ashamed of 90’s mainstream teenybopper, bubblegum pop music because that was the kind of music I loved and grew up with. It’s a bit embarrassing for me, but in a playful way; I’m not necessarily ashamed to admit it anymore. Yes, I used to scream every time “I Want It That Way” and “Shape of My Heart” was played on MTV. But so did a lot of people—millions of girls worldwide. And having other fans as obsessed as me is beside the point; loving this music made me happy. It doesn’t matter whether they were mainstream or not; to listen to music that makes me happy, no matter what anyone says, is what counts.

Dumbele

I remember rehearsing an excerpt of this piece back in 2005 with the UST Chorus of Arts and Letters; not long after hearing my older choir-mates rehearse in the university park, putting me in a trance of awe. I never got to perform this with them because I left the choir later that year.

This music conjures in my head images of ancient Filipinos pleading to their rain and fertility deities over a dying field. ... beautiful ...

Fake Evanescence

I first heard of We Are The Fallen in a vlog by a YouTuber by obsessedwithamylee, who made it clear that “I do not support this band … Amy Lee is Evanescence.” That was, like, at least half a year ago. I didn’t bother finding out anything about this band beyond that it’s composed of former Evanescence members including Ben Moody. I didn’t really care at all because considering that all of We Are The Fallen are former Evanescence members, I'm pretty sure that they’ll just sound exactly like Evanescence without Amy Lee. I was ticked off enough knowing that Ben Moody supposedly said, in a nutshell, that they’re better than Evanescence would ever be.

Like obsessedwithamylee, I do not support this band either, so I put them out of my mind until a few days ago, when I was watching videos in YouTube of Evanescence’s “secret show” in New York from November 2009. For some reason, people kept mentioning Carly Smithson in the comments; if you didn’t know who this person is already, you might remember her as a tattooed Amy Lee look-alike from the 7th season of American Idol whose final performance was of “Jesus Christ Superstar” for Broadway (Andrew Lloyd Webber) week. I was taken aback when I saw a comment saying “F**k Carly Smithson!” and I got confused; a powerful singer, Smithson was my favorite contestant of that season so I couldn’t see what people would possibly have against her. Then, in another video, I found another comment that clarified everything: “… We Are The Fallen is Ben Moody’s new band. Which is Evanescence’s first album Fallen and fake ass Carly Smithson as the replacement for Amy Lee.”

This came off as a bit of a shock for me. I have great respect for Smithson as a singer and performer, and I was kinda heartbroken that Ben Moody and Co. would use her like this. Forgive my choice of words, but that’s how I feel. Carly Smithson is a powerful singer; having her in this band makes her look like a fake, and she’s not. Ben and Co. ought to be ashamed of themselves. They are arrogant and pompous for constantly comparing themselves to Evanescence and then pulling Carly in. This endeavor is in vain and I hope that Evanescence (according to Amy Lee, they’re recording for a new album) will outshine We Are The Fallen, which I think will happen.

Björk vs. Lady Gaga

When I first heard Lady Gaga’s “Poker Face,” I thought it was an outrageous and ridiculous excuse for a song. I still do, and from then on, I refuse to ever like Lady Gaga or her songs.

Meanwhile, I hadn’t become a Björk fan until very recently, when I found myself quite fascinated with the eccentric imagery in her music videos and also the honest sensuality in her lyrics. I didn’t like her before because what she’s doing doesn’t sound like proper singing. The first videos of her that I’ve seen were “Big Time Sensuality,” “Pagan Poetry,” “Cocoon,” “Hunter” and another video that features what looked like two sea mollusks mating to form a human embryo in the end. What made me like her was when I was driven by curiosity and watched almost her music videos on YouTube and was just struck.

Björk’s eccentricity is somewhat comparable to Lady Gaga’s. Like Björk, Lady Gaga stands out with her rather outlandish style of hair, makeup and clothes. Also like Björk, Lady Gaga frequently wears her costumes in public as a fashion statement.

But the contrasts about them are more obvious. Lady Gaga seems to be just a little more upfront about her eccentricity; Björk doesn’t always come out wearing a ridiculous costume. Although both singers are honest about their sexuality, their manner of expressing it in their music videos is slightly different.

Lady Gaga is sexy, and she shows it unabashedly. She displays her body and moves like a snake, not unlike Britney Spears and Christina Aguilera at the height of their career.

Björk, on the other hand, have been known to appear nude in a music video but is not trying to be sexy. In the music video of “Cocoon,” she is shown totally nude with red threads coming out of her nipples; in relation to the song, which is about sex and love, her bare body shows the persona welcoming the sensuality, and the red threads symbolizes the emotion bursting out of her and then engulfing her.

Meanwhile, “Pagan Poetry” shows heavily distorted images of—according to Wikipedia—sexual intercourse, fellatio and pearls being sewn into skin (perhaps a euphemism for semen and penetration?), and Björk wearing a dress covering only her lower half. She has pearls on her skin. Her breasts are bare. “Pagan Poetry” bears the same themes as “Cocoon,” and the persona is preparing herself for marriage and sex. I'm guessing the symbolism is similar. The nudity is a statement—a sexually explicit one, but not with the purpose of sexually exciting an audience.

Both Björk and Lady Gaga appeal to the lowest instincts of humanity. Their sexual honesty opens the audience's minds to the intimate points in their being that society tries to conceal in an effort to make us less like the "lower" species of this planet. They just showed people that they don't have to deny their animal instincts to be human.

However, I would like to stress that Lady Gaga's sexual appeal seems to be a little too distracting to get her message across—Björk's nudism, although also distracting, is more mind-provoking due to the fact that you don't see her going all over a group of sexy men. Her sexuality is not overblown that she would resemble a showgirl. Perhaps that's also what Lady Gaga is trying to put off: making people see the substance beneath the seeming lack of it.

Rock ≠ Conformity?

Freaky Friday is not particularly one of my favorite Disney movies, but when I watched it again last night on DVD, I couldn’t help admiring it for “treating rock music with respect.” Like School of Rock, it frequently references “classic” examples of rock, while the music that Anna Coleman’s band plays is reminiscent of punk in its root form.

I am the kind of music lover who listens to whatever is on the radio. Having been born in 1988, my musical experience began in the early 90’s, when I enjoyed Michael Learns to Rock and some Bon Jovi and Aerosmith, and Mariah Carey and Whitney Houston, boy bands such as the Backstreet Boys, ‘N Sync, 5ive and Boyzone, and female singer-songwriters like Alanis Morissette, Natalie Imbruglia and Chantal Kreviazuk.

Let’s not forget the Disney movies—I am a huge Disney girl. As a child, I watched the fairy tales, Robin Hood, Alice in Wonderland, The Nightmare Before Christmas (if you count that as Disney), The Lion King, Pocahontas, Mulan, Hercules and The Hunchback of Notre Dame. (Tarzan was good, but I look at it as the weak link in the chain of Disney classics, because it was in the milieu that spawned non-musical animated features, cheesy Disney Channel Original Movies and poor and unnecessary sequels.)

Given this background, I am positively embarrassed to say that although I am a fan of rock music, I haven’t listened to the bands that “decent” rock fans uphold as the true rockers. Although I respect that the Stone Temple Pilots, The Ramones, Black Sabbath, Radiohead, Kiss, Queen, AC/DC or Marilyn Manson are among those that are hailed as the epitome of rock, I haven’t listened to them. Nirvana, Aerosmith and Bon Jovi are among the few bands that I have listened to. Growing up, the closest I have been to rock was through alternative bands like Garbage, Oasis and No Doubt, which is sometimes considered to be pop.

I am also ashamed to call myself a rock fan when I was among the millions of pubescent girls who screamed over boy bands during what I call the bubblegum boom in the late 90’s. But when Linkin Park came out in 2001, which was the decline of boy bands, I tried my ears with “nu rock,” which is the classification of bands like Incubus, POD and Staind. I loved these bands, and their angsty content inspired me to become a writer; Linkin Park is my favorite, because they managed to express anger without being dependent on swearwords.

To my surprise, nu rock is deplorable and inferior in the opinion of fans of the “classic” bands listed above. But at the time, I was not aware of such a hierarchy.

In the years that followed, pop rock became popular. Michelle Branch and Vanessa Carlton started the trend in rebellion against bubblegum pop, but Ashlee Simpson, Avril Lavigne and Kelly Clarkson were the genre’s most celebrated by 2005.

Also around the time that Avril Lavigne came out, pop punk took the place of nu rock. Good Charlotte, Green Day and Simple Plan became fan favorites.

Evanescence came out of nowhere and became an instant success in 2003. It seemed to be one of a kind; ignorant music listeners called it gothic rock. But real Goths didn’t think so, so I respect their opinion and have since refused to call Evanescence gothic. Amy Lee wasn’t even a real Goth, after all; she just likes wearing dark clothes and black makeup.

As I have been in my childhood, I liked whatever was on the radio, so I listened to these bands and singers despite complaints from traditionalists, who called these musicians posers. I ignored those complaints: Avril Lavigne and her contemporaries are pop singers anyway; I looked at Good Charlotte, Blink-182, Green Day and Simple Plan’s music to be a new version of punk rather than a different kind of music labeled as punk, which is what traditionalists claim. Evanescence is only labeled by the media as goth, but they really aren’t.

I entered college, just as emo music became all the rage. Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! At the Disco, Dashboard Confessional and the Red Jumpsuit Apparatus, among others came into the spotlight. At first, I thought this was a new wave of pop punk bands, but I discovered through some research that this is a different genre altogether. An offshoot of punk, emo is characterized by depressing lyrics, a combination of red and black clothes (not to be confused with the White Stripes, who wear red and white clothes), eyeliner (even on men), black- or red-framed eyeglasses (this fell out of trend within a year of its popularity) and sleek, overgrown bangs that cover one or both eyes. In the Internet, some people include some nu rock bands like Linkin Park and Staind in the label “emo,” as their lyrics are commonly angry, depressing, and repeatedly so.

I am not a fan of emo music (i.e. MCR, FOB, etc.), but I admit to listening to some of their songs. However, I am not one to actually buy their albums.

As you have probably figured out by now, I am pretty much a conformist. I got good grades in school, and never skipped classes on purpose. My academic performance is not my best, but only because I am lazy. I go to church and sing there, prompting me to be punctual and committed to attending Mass services. I am not what you would call a Jesus freak but I have significant knowledge of the Bible, Salvation History, and some Church doctrines; I get uncomfortable when I don’t get to go to Mass on my birthday or on Ash Wednesday. When it comes to religion, I am a devout Catholic, although I do not believe that Mary stayed a virgin after having Jesus, who I also believe married Mary Magdalene. Whoever this particular Magdalene was, she was most probably Mary of Magdala, not to be confused with the one who washed Jesus’s feet (that was Mary of Bethany); whether or not this Magdalene was the adulterer, I don’t quite know.

My conformity is the same with my taste in music, which makes me worry a bit. I listen to bands that are labeled inferior posers, and yet I admire “classic” rock bands without listening to them—am I hypocritical or just open-minded? I just don’t want traditionalists to shoot at me.

Forever the King of Pop

I've never cried over the death of a celebrity before. Suddenly, I find myself breaking down over a rather memorable video on YouTube.

2001 marked the twilight of boy bands and bubblegum pop. Britney Spears and company were growing up, and their fans were growing up with them by either listening to more substantial music or staying as loyal followers. I was a faithful Backstreet Girl at the time, although, with the rising popularity of rap metal/nü rock, I was drifting away from the pop genre and trying my ears on "darker" material. But even then, I was still consuming the last full blast of the boy band era. Then, that year's MTV Video Music Awards happened.

'N Sync at the time was the top boy band. Being the Backstreet Girl that I was, I only got pissed that they were flashier than the Backstreet Boys. It was obvious with their performance of "Pop." Still, I was pretty much entertained; I was actually impressed, especially with the opening sequence (how did they make the stage and everything in it black and white?!) and the props and costumes and the choreography. Then, the performance gradually came to an end with the members of 'N Sync repeating the chorus while moving from one area of the stage to another, eventually stopping at the middle, with a giant Etch A Sketch behind them, which drew the words "Kings of Pop," as they ended the song. The music seemed to fade and break when the letter "S" was erased, leaving the phrase "King of Pop."

I got the drift, and at that very moment, I screamed in an excitement incomparable to that which I would feel when watching a Backstreet Boy video. I couldn't believe it. He was back! Michael Jackson was back, and he was performing with the hottest boy band who, like myself, grew up with his music. Michael Jackson was no longer as handsome as I remembered him to be, but he was the King of Pop, and will always be.

That was eight years ago. At the wake of Michael Jackson's death five days ago, I was craving for videos of him that struck my memory. The first one I thought of was 'N Sync's performance of Pop, and I watched it on YouTube. When the finale showed, I just started crying. I remembered how happy I was to see Michael Jackson performing again, and now I would never experience that same excitement ever again.

Michael Jackson may have influenced many pop and hip-hop stars today such as Britney Spears, Usher, Justin Timberlake and Chris Brown, but none of them compare to what he exhibits in his performance. The King of Pop, indeed--he made such a great impact to this world with his unforgettable music. He had his ups and downs and endured ridicule because of his seeming lapse in sanity and deformed visage, but nobody could really deny what he had contributed to popular culture.

He may no longer be in this world, but his legacy would live on. Be it in music, dance or film, he had made his mark. For this, the world will never forget him.