Misunderstood: Lyrical Losses

Years ago, a friend and I got over our strange addiction to the movie The Rules of Attraction by acquiring a new drug, by becoming obsessed if only briefly with the movie Napoleon Dynamite, a wan and delicate movie whose humor still gets me to this day and whose repeatability (for me) has been bested only by that greatest comedy of the modern era, Office Space.  Part of what I liked about the movie was the use of music in the prom scene where a few of the corniest songs seem almost profound.

But the song that got me the most was “The Promise” by When in Rome

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On the Radio: Move My Jacket

As I mentioned in a previous post, my wife corrupted our daughter in utero. On her way to and from work, she would listen only to top-40 and Hip-hop stations. I worried then that this would make our first child predisposed to my wife’s musical tastes, but I could not have that argument. (Who but a fool argues music choice with a pregnant woman?)

The actualization of this fear was not complete until my daughter started eating ‘table’ food, as they (pediatricians and other baby people) call it. My daughter is about as finicky an eater as you can imagine (although her aunt, the sister may have given her a run for her money: she ate nothing but grilled cheese and cheerios for a decade or something like that).

We learned early on that we could get our daughter to eat by (1) distracting her with novel household objects (2) singing and dancing or (3) playing music. We exhausted option 1 fairly quickly; we found ourselves often too exhausted for option 2. So, we turned to the radio. And guess what, the only stations that worked as an invitation to dinner were the stations my wife listened to while pregnant.

Of all the horrors I have been subjected to during this time, the song that has tortured me the most is “Move Like Jagger” by Maroon 5 (with Christina Aguilera). The first problem I had with it is understanding it: for the longest time I was convinced that the lyric was “move my jacket”, which I took as a metaphor for locating your home and identity with another person. That was, obviously, too deep.

The second issue: I don’t think the vocal stretching of the vowel in “move” is clever, aesthetically pleasing, or an indication of talent (too much autotune). The song is catchy the way an advertising jingle is.

(It doesn’t help that I think that Maroon 5 is completely overrated or that Adam Levine should be silenced by executive order.)

The third problem: I can’t tell what moving like Jagger means. See, Jagger doesn’t even move like Jagger. He moves like a white version of James Brown (on heroin). That patently tortured issue of identity aside, what is the semiotic value of Jagger’s movement? What cultural association is the singer trying to evoke? I fear that, like too many pop songs, Maroon 5 is merely trying to float a reference out there from pop culture to force a shared frame of reference and derive some benefit from a prior cultural symbol. By evoking a revered icon, however, in an unclear usage, the band runs the risk of cheapening it and emptying out any preferred meaning.

Or something like that.

The larger objection is that the song is stupid and the forced reference is lame. Someone moving like Jagger might be effective if mentioned once (as when Ben Folds starts a song by singing “I met a girl who looked like Axl Rose / got drunk and took her home / and we slept in our clothes” in “Julianne”); as the centerpiece of the song the reference starts out confusing, becomes hollow, and then gets lame.

I know that you don’t share my disdain for Maroon 5, brother, but am I off-base for this song?

Here’s the kicker: every time I move a jacket, I sing to myself “mooooooooooove my jacket..”  Do I protest so much because I secretly like the song?

Here’s something better: