With the help of her friends Aviance and Real, R&B artist Riskay expresses her support for the furry community and their sexual fetishes, some of which revolve around the sniffing of genitalia. If more songs such as this one enter the American consciousness, then this often marginalized and misunderstood group may finally gain the mainstream acceptance they desire, without having to “shed” their identities.
Tay Zonday covers Carly Rae Jepsen’s “Call Me Maybe,” demonstrating that just like women, men can also exhibit romantic insecurities, a message that is reinforced by Zonday’s deep bass voice, typically associated with masculinity. Consider this a reclamation of the men’s rights movement from the misogynist MRAs who have co-opted it for their own misguided ends.
Fefe (pronounced “fee-fee,” not “fuh-fuh”) Dobson wowed Canadian audiences with her 2003 hit, “Bye Bye Boyfriend.” Her tough-girl persona and no-nonsense attitude held a surprising amount of appeal for a country whose citizens are normally known for their meekness and their propensity to apologize for things that aren’t their fault.
But Dobson wasn’t always that way, as she hints at during the song, and that’s the key to understanding what “Bye Bye Boyfriend” is all about. In the final verse, she sings, “You controlled me / That was the girl I used to be.” While this can be interpreted as a straightforward story of a woman discovering her assertiveness during a shaky relationship, it is actually a cautionary tale about the practice of keeping exotic animals such as tigers and lions as pets.
These animals may initially appear docile as young cubs. However, as they mature, they become more aggressive and independent, and they will eventually want to break free of their masters. In this song, Dobson plays the role of the mature tigress, comparing her former master to an ex-boyfriend whom she outgrew. In the chorus, Dobson actually warns exotic pet owners: “It was fun, but it couldn’t last forever.”
Though ostensibly a precursor to Katy Perry’s “Last Friday Night,” Amanda Marshall’s musical tale of debauchery and bacchanalia is actually a profoundly political allegory. Released in 2001, it is a mocking message to the American electorate who had recently voted in George W. Bush as President of the United States.
Marshall likens Americans’ choice of Bush to a series of drunken mistakes. The actual vote is compared to overindulgence in alcohol, while Marshall’s inability to remember her night is similar to Americans’ inability to remember why they voted for the man in the first place.
The song is also remarkably prescient. In the chorus, Marshall sings, “Oh my God, I woke up with a snake tattoo.” The “snake” could be interpreted as a reference to the war in Iraq, an unwanted but hard-to-remove mark on America’s metaphorical skin.
While Marshall’s message certainly had merit at its time of recording, it was also slightly unfair. It is all too easy for a singer to criticize the political situation in another country from the relatively safety and comfort of Canada. Maybe Marshall herself would have gotten caught up in the political equivalent of drunken revelry that she so harshly criticizes had she been living in the States at the time. However, such a counterfactual is impossible to verify, and therefore, we should not dismiss Marshall’s message entirely. Americans would do well to remember it during the upcoming federal election.
Finnish rock band The Rasmus presents a damning criticism of the Victorian-era treatment of women. Their gothic rock music party provides both a metaphorical and literal respite for the young maiden who stars in the video, a refuge from the patriarchal society that defines her daily existence.