So it turns out Kanye West’s proclamation that Beyonce had
“the best video of all time” was as premature as the time he blew his beans
up Kim Kardashian.
For my money (-£739 to be exact) there’s only one person in
pop worth writing about and it would appear EVERYBODY wants to write about her,
pops perky twerky princess Miley.
It must be a butt fucker for the wealthy art school girls of
America’s cosmopolitan cities that some rich red neck chick has muscled in on
their NYC art house cinema screenings, completely grabbed pop-culture by the
wrecking balls and drained it of all its shallow spunk. Gaga overestimates and
overrates pop culture, Cyrus gets that it’s simple. Gaga wears meat, Miley
makes people beat theirs. She’s hot, and she wants to get naked. You don’t ask
Terry Richardson to direct your video and expect to keep your clothes on. I’m
pretty sure he could take your primary school yearbook photo and you’d leave
with just your tie on.
But apart from creating the two best pop singles of the year
so far, what I really like about Miley 2.0 is that she literally does not give
two fucks. Nerds smarter than me have attempted to classify her creation as
racist and anti-feminist but what most seem to fall short on is that it’s
awesome. Breakdown queen Sinead O’Connor has had a pop, Miley responded by
mocking her mental health problems. No fucks. She’s wearing 12 hole Dr.
Martin’s in her video and she’s backing it up with 12 round comebacks to people
who literally couldn’t be further from relevance from right now. What makes
Miley different from Sinead, Britney, Li-Lo and co. is that she’s doing drugs
the right way. Whilst the PR machine is carefully hiding such mischief, there’s
no doubt that at some hipster LA party Cyrus is sniffing harder than the
builders brought in to take away THAT wrecking ball. The party will undoubtedly
stop, but not for a while yet. And if it does she’s got Billy Ray’s money to
fall back on, as well as country music’s ever welcoming embrace. There’s no
chance of a Cyrus breakdown, unless it’s a carefully thought out
re-birth a couple of albums down the line.
Any arguments that it’s the countless agents, management and PR guru’s that are running the Miley Movement are probably rooted in fact, but Cyrus is using them like she’s using us, sticking a foam middle finger right up our arses. Even on MTV’s attempt at getting a slice of the pro-Cyrus propaganda pie “The Miley Movement” she managed to distort and fuck it up by coming across as a bit of a bratty twat. Perfect. That’s how we want our rock-stars, moaning about the tiniest thing going wrong backstage and then stepping out into the camera’s glare all teeth, tits and tongue. I haven’t gotten round to buying Bangerz yet, but I sure as hell will and so will you, probably. One of my best friends did his dissertation on Miley Cyrus two years ago. He was well ahead of the game and the fact that he could get 10,000 words plus out of the old Cyrus gives the clearest indication yet that there’s serious depth to this pop-parade that delves deeper than just soft-core porn. She looks like a little boy made to do PE in his pants in the “Wrecking Ball” video; she gets kicked in the head in the “We Can’t Stop” video and she continually keeps getting bollucked by her parents. This is angst, this is youth, and this is quite frankly the best thing to happen to pop-culture in forever. I also can't thank her enough personally for choosing to jump onto rap culture and, unlike those stoopid models, stay the fuck away from punk.
No we don’t want our daughters or sisters copying her, but what we do want is a sledgehammer sucking, tantrum chucking, finger fucking superstar. Here she is: