Pop Culture Confessional is a weekly column where our writers can divulge and indulge in their most deeply embarrassing cultural passion — and then tell you why it actually rocks. Everyone has a few dirty little secrets. Only the truth shall set us free.
Since school started I’ve been focused on refining a playlist designed to capture my summer memories. First there are “Orange Juice” by Odd Future and “Gangsta” by tUnE-yArDs – I saw both bands in concert while I was home in San Francisco. Then there are the summer releases that became staples in my iTunes rotation: Bon Iver’s pensive “Michicant” and The Throne’s jubilant “Otis.” I also reconnected with some of my classic rock favorites, which explains the inclusion of “Ventilator Blues” by The Rolling Stones and “Eyesight to the Blind” by The Who.
But there’s also “Teenage Dream” and “E.T.”—two of Katy Perry’s most popular singles, in case you’ve been living under a rock since her album Teenage Dream dropped over a year ago—and I’ve come to the realization that her singles were just as influential to my summer as the amazing set that Arcade Fire put on at the Outside Lands Music Festival or the extended jams on Zeppelin’s “Whole Lotta Love” that my friends and I had. It would be cool to say that Katy Perry’s music has as much critical value as a tone-deaf diva singing karaoke after downing a dozen shots of Jose Cuervo—but it wouldn’t be true. Taken collectively, her singles amount to some of the most culturally significant pop music to hit the radio in years.
My love affair with Katy began in the summer of 2008. When my high school marching band was in Beijing to play at the Summer Olympics, “I Kissed A Girl” was on constant rotation on my iPod. Back then liking Katy Perry was different: The diva’s only hit was a left-of-center song about lesbian promiscuity, she was playing on the punk-tinged Warped Tour and she had a penchant for making vulgar jokes in interviews. She was a pop star, but she was about as badass as a slightly Auto-Tuned, unabashedly hot pop star could be. But after the summer jam brilliance of "I Kissed A Girl" Katy and I drifted apart for a while. "Hot 'n' Cold" was just as bubblegum pop as "I Kissed A Girl" was edgy, so while the latter made a couple surprise appearances on high school mix CDs, nestled between The Killers and Modest Mouse, Perry's music was largely the work of a one-hit wonder for me. Her hit single was one I'd unashamedly belt out when it came on the radio, but that was the extent of our relationship.
Then she blew up. Three years later Perry’s achievements are mind-boggling. Teenage Dream provided the inertia she needed to rise to the top tier of pop stars, along with titans like Lady Gaga and Beyonce. Then there’s the fact that really brings home her success: If Katy’s current single, “The One That Got Away,” hits number one on the Billboard Hot 100 chart she’ll break a record for the most number one singles from an album, set by the King of Pop himself, Michael Jackson.
So what’s the secret to Katy’s pop greatness? It’s not, as a lot of her detractors would claim, just a lot of good luck. Sure, one or two synth driven pop hits aren’t tough to score these days—just ask Ke$ha. But the regularity and frequency with which Perry has launched singles to the top of the charts belies a deeper value to her music that goes beyond savvy marketing and a good body. Moreover, it's the depth that gets me—typically the disdainful hipster—to put on a grin, shed my inhibitions and just dance. I don't need to put Perry through the Girl Talk filter to make her tolerable, because her music is simply a joy to listen to.
Perry’s songs are different in a way that pop music hasn’t dared to be in a while. Lots of Top 40 has caught on to indie’s current—or not so current, if you look at the trends now going through the genre—obsession with dance synths, and mainstream producers have turned the sound into a calling card for smash hits. Perry accepts these new conventions—she is a savvy pop star after all—but has infused them with a creative sense for the off kilter and an ear for outstanding melodies. Take “Teenage Dream” for example: The song starts off with an almost flimsy vocal hook, threatening to collapse under the weight of its own nostalgia before Perry puts her soulful voice to work over a stadium-rock ready chorus. There’s a certain sincerity in the melodically powerful bridge (you know, the “skin tight jeans” part) that turns what could have easily been a contrived Disney Channel romp in the hands of the Miley Cyruses of the world into a glimpse into Perry’s heart.
“E.T.” leans on the pop’s current synth obsession more than Perry’s other singles, but an excellent Kanye West guest spot—notably at the beginning of the song—builds a tension that only keeps growing with Perry’s first verse. The song’s chorus could have been a failure, but is buoyed by sparingly placed falsetto vocals—think garlic in cooking—and a powerful guitar riff that could easily pass as the popped out cousin of the one found in The Smiths’ classic “How Soon Is Now?” While songs like “E.T.” and its Teenage Dream counterparts obviously fit into pop molds they also incorporate elements from outside the genre in ways that few other tracks on the radio are today—and that’s what sets Perry apart from her contemporaries.
One friend of mine recently framed the video for Perry’s recent single “Last Friday Night (T.G.I.F.)” as a modern day “Thriller”—and although the extravagant video features Hanson and Kenny G, I can’t say I agree with his assertion. Still, her work is closer to Jackson’s immortal classics than it is to most of the drudge floating through the Top 40 Pandora station these days. Perry could very easily surpass the record of the King of Pop in the next couple months—and the crazy thing is that her new record wouldn’t be a fluke.