This column was not supposed to be about misogyny; it was supposed to be about Kings of Leon. It seemed to me that those Tennessee sons of a preacher man, with their latest album “Come Around Sundown” just out on Oct. 18, make up one of the very few big-time, anthemic rock bands we have right now, and I thought their lack of company was something worth lamenting.
So I began researching my hunch, scrolling through the Billboard Hot 100 chart to count off the measly number of straightforward rock songs that made the cut. The closest I found were from Neon Trees, Train, Maroon 5, a power ballad by Daughtry and three Taylor Swift songs ““ the evidence appeared to be on my side.
But then I discovered, charting at number 90, a song called “Porn Star Dancing” by the recently debuted post-grunge band, My Darkest Days, and suddenly the lack of popular rock music seemed trivial.
It’s easily the heaviest song on the Hot 100, featuring a guest guitar solo by Black Label Society’s Zakk Wylde. Over power chords and a pounding rhythm section, front man Matt Walst sings about pole dancing and his preference for girls without baggage or scruples. The music video, filmed at the Vanity nightclub at the Hard Rock Hotel & Casino in Las Vegas, is exactly as sexist as you’d imagine.
It was Nickelback singer Chad Kroeger who discovered and signed My Darkest Days, apparently having decided that he hadn’t done enough cultural damage with his own band. Kroeger contributes a verse to “Porn Star Dancing,” as blatantly offensive as any in the song: “Stacy’s gonna save herself for marriage / But that’s just not my style / She’s got a pair that’s nice to stare at / But I want girls gone wild.”
Without a doubt, there is nothing new about misogyny in pop music. The usual offender is hip-hop: Trey Songz’s “Bottoms Up” and YG’s “Toot It and Boot It” are two excellent recent examples.
But rock certainly isn’t innocent ““ Kid Rock and Buckcherry come first to mind ““ and the fact that “Porn Star Dancing” is so unsurprising is exactly the problem.
There is a level of tolerance for sexual objectification in pop music that does not exist in any other form of entertainment. A film that so shamelessly exploits strippers and scantily clad women would be cause for outrage. Same goes for novels.
If Trey Songz or the guys from My Darkest Days appeared on a talk show and asserted in conversation the kinds of views they perpetuate in their music videos, we would be appalled.
But if it’s got a strong beat behind it, if they arrange the words in a nice melody, suddenly we’re reacting on a visceral level. Any intellectual objections are overridden. Sure, we know it’s wrong to objectify women, but if there’s rhythm, we can’t help dancing.
Last Friday, I wandered around Kerckhoff Patio and asked a few students if they thought the objectification of women in pop music is a problem. They didn’t react with anger or indignation; they recognized that some popular songs are misogynistic but didn’t think too much of it.
I have no doubt that none of these students are sexist or support the way women are treated in the music video for “Porn Star Dancing.” They were all friendly and helpful.
Kalvin Muljono, a third-year biology student, mentioned that sex sells, and of course he’s right. Felicia Xu, a second-year psychology student, suggested that our generation is less sensitive than our parents’, and I think she’s right too.
But are we okay with that? When newspapers and magazines run trend stories about the apathy and detachment of today’s young people, is this not at least in part what they’re talking about?
In nearly every other aspect of life these days, we’re serious about gender equality; we cannot allow music to remain the last accepted outlet for bigotry. That’s far easier said than done, I know; “Porn Star Dancing” has been stuck in my head more than once as I wrote this column.
But let us not give in to our basest impulses when they fly in the face of common sense and common decency. Let us celebrate beauty, diversity and respect, not the ugly aberrations of our darkest days.
If you’ve ever been offended by a pop song or by the suggestion that pop songs are offensive, e-mail Goodman at agoodman@media.ucla.edu.