David Brooks took a brief break on Friday from politics and Bruce Springsteen idol worship today in his New York Times column to take on the role of rap reviewer. His subject was Chance the Rapper (authentic birth name Chancellor Johnathan Bennett) as he expounded at length on the subject of sincerity vs authenticity. In the process he slammed both Taylor Swift and, of course, the one who continues to inhabit his mind 24/7...President Donald Trump.
Brooks starts off his rap review gig with a microanalysis of the recent debut of Chance the Rapper's unnamed song and quickly proceeds to talking smack about Taylor Swift and You-Know-Who:
Sometimes pop culture seems completely prepackaged and professionalized, so when somebody steps out and puts on a display of vulnerability, trust and humility, it takes your breath away.
That’s what Chance the Rapper did on Monday on “The Late Show With Stephen Colbert.” He debuted a new, untitled song, but which is about the perils of stardom — which is what you’d sing about if you were 24 and you’d blown up so big.
He begins, not completely originally, by implying a contrast between pop stardom and the actual stars spread across the universe, between celebrity success and the vastness of God.
Then he compares his own first-world problems with actual problems (“stone mattresses, thin blankets, really long winters spent in a windbreaker”). But his problems are still real and they have to do with the strains on his intimate life. (“I’m a rich excuse for a father. You just can’t tour a toddler. She’s turning 2. She don’t need diapers, she just need a papa. … My daughter barely recognizes me when I lose the hat.”)
Didn't Dean Martin already cover the same ground with That's Amore?
Meanwhile, Brooks' typical pretentiousness continues unabated:
The first part of the song is about how success is threatening his relationships (“I think my little cousins want their cousin back. The automatic quarterback who doesn’t rap.”). Then it changes mood with each verse. There’s his love-hate relationship with his own ambition, his ambivalence about his own complacent fans. The chorus is: “The day is on its way, it couldn’t wait no more. Here it comes, here it comes, ready or not.”
Anything about Surf City where it's two to one?
Brooks soon jumps from what sounds like a navel gazing indulgence to the smack talk:
It’s interesting to compare Chance’s song with Taylor Swift’s new song, “Look What You Made Me Do,” which is also about a young star coping with celebrity. The former stands out from the current cultural moment; the latter embodies it. Swift is a phenomenally talented and beautiful songwriter who has lost touch with herself and seems to have been swallowed by the ethos of the Trump era.
The video to that song, which has been watched 478 million times on YouTube so far, contains a string of references to Swift’s various public beefs — with Kanye West, Kim Kardashian, Katy Perry, and so on. If Donald Trump or his political enemies made a video about their Twitter wars, it would look like this.
Yup. Definitely mandatory for a New York Times house "conservative" to work in a few negative references to Donald Trump when reviewing music. After getting that out of the way, Brooks resumes talking smack about Taylor Swift:
Swift had defied the normal ingénue-to-sex-temptress career trajectory of Britney Spears and Miley Cyrus, but now she’s fitting right in. Spears released a similar song a decade ago called “Piece of Me,” which didn’t take itself so seriously.
The first thing you notice in comparing the Chance and Swift songs is the difference between a person and a brand. A lot of young people I know talk about “working on their brand,” and sometimes I wish that word had never been invented.
A person has a soul, which is what Chance is worrying about. A brand has a reputation, which is the title of Swift’s next album. A person has private dignity. A brand is a creation for an audience. “I’ll be the actress starring in your bad dreams,” is how Swift puts it.
The second thing you notice is the difference between sincerity and authenticity. In Lionel Trilling’s old distinction, sincerity is what you shoot for in a trusting society. You try to live honestly and straightforwardly into your social roles and relationships. Authenticity is what you shoot for in a distrustful society. You try to liberate your own personality by rebelling against the world around you, by aggressively fighting against the society you find so vicious and corrupt.
So, David, where does a wealthy columnist publishing a widely mocked public wedding registry chock full of tacky kitchen items fall on the sincerity vs authenticity scale? Would the Good Grips oven mitt with magnet be considered sincere or authentic? How about the Round Classic waffle maker? Or the Progressive red nut chopper?
Exit question: Will Taylor Swift write and perform a song about the authenticity or sincerity of David Brooks publishing a shlock-filled wedding registry?
