Some things I just don't understand. I never really liked Fawlty Towers, to me it just seemed like John Cleese yelling at a racial stereotype for 12 straight episodes. It was headache inducing nonsensical schlock, and while everyone I knew, upon me serving them with this appraisal, would hark "What do you mean? Fawlty Towers is brilliant, have you not seen the one with the Germans?", I never, ever understood its appeal. With this in mind, I move to Nicki Minaj, which, like Fawlty Towers, is a joke that I am simply not party to.
Where to begin. The mind boggles at the amount of things wrong with Nicki Minaj. Pretty much everything I suppose. The first I heard of Nicki Minaj was on the ill fated and (rightfully) little-known Usher single, Lil' Freak, which was about as eloquent as the title suggests. The only reason I actually listened to the song was because it sampled Living For The City by Stevie Wonder (which, by the way, actually IS a good song). I remembered the song was terrible but I couldn't actually remember what Nicki did on the record. However pursuant to a quick web search, it's apparent she managed to slip in some vague allusions to lesbianism, then used Santa Claus as a metaphor for prostitution, at which point her segment was done. Naturally then, I figured that's all I would hear from Nicki Minaj. But I was wrong. So, crushingly, terribly wrong.
Because a couple of years later she didn't so much enter as much as vapourise popular music. Super bass was the first I heard of this. I should point out, as a preliminary point, that Minaj is referencing the low frequency sound and/or percussion instrument, and not the marine and freshwater game fish (though I did sort of wish that Nicki's inspiration for Super bass was a particularly eventful fishing trip off of the Hockwell Lode). The song itself sits uncomfortably somewhere between RnB and Mario Paint. The opening piece sounds a bit like a dolphin playing the opening bars of chopsticks on a Moog Taurus, while the chorus presents a good example of 21st Century lyrical eloquence ('Boom, badoom, boom boom, badoom, boom, he got that super bass, boom, badoom, boom boom, badoom, boom, yeah that's that super bass'). That said, the song is undeniably catchy, sort of like a viral, flesh eating disease, and besides, you can't go into a place (particularly off of lower Briggate) without it getting an obligatory seven playthroughs either way. You can either like it (and be a terrible person) or lump it (and live a lie). Oh the choices Super bass forces us to make.
Despite her success, Minaj's appeal is truly baffling. Visually she looks like she would glow in the dark. Her image is sort of creepy, in that in the same instance she invokes two very contrary motifs. On the one hand, she looks like a kids toy, decked out in overpowering shades of sunshine yellow and bubblegum pink, in what would appear an obvious attempt to appeal to a younger audience. While on the other hand Minnie tends to wear very little, and what little she does wear, tends
to be wholly unsuited for her truly ginormous arse to cope with. Seriously, if one were to utilise the junk-in-the-trunk analogy, Minaj would appear bound for the proverbial car boot sale. She looks like a hooker. These are two ideals that probably shouldn't mix. That said, Minaj isn't really intended as a sex icon, because Minaj doesn't really try to be sexy. What she tries to be is unclear. What she comes across as is bark raving mad. In almost every video Minaj just sort of makes me feel uneasy, like she might just start screaming or peel herself like an onion or something. Typically Nicki just sort of stands there staring with a burning, unrelenting intensity into the deepest depths of your soul, all the while giving off a smile that can only be described as unholy. The sheer spectacle of it all just makes your skin crawl, seeing this busty 20-something grinning and blinking and looking utterly demented, like Charles Manson on a bender. Adding to the undeniable feeling of madness that pervades over her music videos is Nicki's singing itself, which sounds a bit like Scrappy-Doo being fed through a paper-shredder. And then, just to throw the kitchen sink at sheer insanity, there are the parts where Nicki stops singing and starts, well, doing something else.
People have of course informed me that when this happens it is most definitely NOT Nicki Minaj singing like an idiot, but rather her alter ego Roman Zolanski (singing like an idiot). Apparently it's hip at the moment to have acute schizophrenia. You can spot Roman's entrance into any given song as its usually marked by Minaj dropping about seven thousand octaves, sounding rather like Johnny Cash when he sung Hurt, if Hurt was sung whilst gagging on a foot long sub of the day. Roman sounds a bit like that bitch out of the exorcist when she starts freaking out at the priest, or perhaps Bernard Manning when his 'roids are disagreeing with him. But this is besides the point. If I claimed that inside of me there was another person who was born out of rage and I was possessed by that person, though only occasionally, then I would probably be diagnosed with some psychological disorder, as opposed to, you know, international stardom. Of course these concerns have been voiced in the past. Many times. But, rather like the Hydra, just when you fell one Minaj fan with a stunning rebuke, three more seem to spring up to take up the good fight. And generally it's been the same, sole justification proffered in defence of Nicki. Not that she is an incredible talent, or a good dancer, or any such crap. They say 'Oh Come on, Nicki is fierce'. Fierce. I mean what the hell does that even mean? Is that a good thing? Like, a crazed wildebeest is 'fierce'. Favela street gangs in Rio are 'fierce'. Hell, even my Gran gets a bit 'fierce', if you reject a proffered plate of bourbon creams on a given Sunday visit. But in those instances that generally isn't a good thing.
Of course none of this really matters. I know that a few years ago Minaj had some nasty things said about her by Lil Kim (I don't know who this is. Perhaps former head of state Kim Jong-Il had a short lived career in the rap business. That guy was kind of short). Minaj responded by penning the seminal modern symphony that is Stupid Ho. And yes, it was, somehow, a hit. She has gained a huge fan base amongst American pre-teen girls, as well as a sizable slice of (i.e. the entirety of) the worldwide gay community. So it is unlikely two fucks will be given for the cruel words of some two-bit angry white asshole on the Internet. But I mean come on. Minaj encompasses everything wrong with popular shitty rap music. Just in the first two verses of Super bass she rhymes the same two freaking words ('system' and 'up' respectively). She also bastardises English grammar to get a cheap rhyme and generally does everything imaginable to screw with me. And that's just Super bass. There isn't time to talk about the barbarity of Stupid Ho nor the plain confusion of Starships. Though some attention ought to be paid to Beez In The Trap, which is in parts nonsensical, in parts ugly and in its entirety terrible. Again she rhymes the same two words, but this time she really goes to town ('nothing', 'trap', 'off', 'open'), accompanied by a repetitive, shitty finger-click beat. The video is set in a club and is full of scantily clad damsels rotating their bums about like they are orchestrating some sort of rectal laser show or something. And Minaj looks awful. I'll say it. She does. She looks like a clown, a clown with a massive, terrifying arse. Nicki, far from questioning gender stereotypes, is firmly re-asserting that women are good for little more than waving their bums around and generally doing anything their blokes tell them to. Beez In The Trap unbelievably actually manages to stand out as especially
terrible, a feat that should not be overlooked when arising from a back
catalogue of persistent, intolerable, horse shit.
So, yes, Nicki Minaj is terrible. And yes, that doesn't matter. Not a jot. She isn't going away. Popular culture has looked on Nicki and, far from taking action to kill it with fire before it can lay eggs, has decided that she is permissible as modern day talent. And so she shall remain. God help us all. Madonna had her moments. Gaga had fewer. Minaj has none. Presumably there is nothing left to burn, bar Minaj herself, who may serve some purpose as a sacrifice to reverse the hex. Not like there is anything I can do. You'll find me in the attic with my Huey Lewis '45s.
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