To Do Well What Should Not Be Done at All

I’ve only just learned about the songwriting contest. It has a week to go, and its sole challenge is to set words to music – the most often used words in the Top 50 selling downloads of this year. 

Those statistically-derived words are very, very disturbing:

Take every chick back to New York and let them walk home

Oh baby, yeah, Imma rock your body hard—like damn
Chick I wanna know, cause I get around now—like bad

So what sort of music should they get?  I haven’t listened to every entrant so far, but I like the in-your-face lesbian sentiments of user118494’s FTV – rock ya body hardLenin Was a Zombie employs (employ?) the direct approach in Rock Your Body Hard, and the current front-runner in the votes, Stephen Frost’s My Hands Gonna Touch This, dances funkily down the Timberlake-FOTC route.

But I could write twenty versions and never do better than Andrew Dickens.  His catchy effort, Break the love, is well-nigh perfect: upbeat, earnest and fun.  Its chorus is exactly how thinly-disguised misogyny should sound.

I voted for him, I hope he wins, and if one of the prize online classes at Berklee is “Artful Presentation of Ugly Sentiments With Pop Confection”, he should get an atomatic credit.


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