I mean no disrespect to Miss Carly Rae Jepsen. When your parents name you something as twee as that, you're practically obligated to churn out a dancey pop hit at some point in your life. And girlfriend's gotta be raking it IN. I mean really, good for you, woman.
But does every radio station have to play the song nonstop? And I mean actually non-stop. I listen to top forty radio and there it is. So I switch to a mix station and there it is again. And the soft rock station (which has, over the course of the last several years, widened its definition of "soft rock" to include Taio Cruz and No Doubt...but that's a subject for another blog entry). It's getting ridiculous.
And let's examine this song a bit, shall we? This isn't some grand introspective opus that gives us some great insight into modern America or the human race or even Carly Rae Jepsen's mind. This song states its thesis right in the title. I mean, points for directness, but still. When your title covers the contents of your entire song, writing the song itself becomes kind of superfluous (except, of course, for the fact that no one ever made number one on the Billboard Hot 100 on the strength of a title alone).
So yeah, the song's not about war and peace and inner turmoil. It's about Carly Rae Jepsen giving a guy her number. Like twelve times. (Gotta love those repeating choruses!)
Which is fine. On the feminism front, I'm kind of behind the general idea of not having to wait for a guy to make the first move. Way to be proactive, Carly! (Carly Rae? Jeps? Jeppers?) But on the other hand, I've never been sucked into a frenzied tornado of excitement regarding the distribution of someone else's phone number, which definitely curbs any generous feelings I might have toward the song. What I find especially annoying about "Call Me Maybe"'s approach to some lady giving a guy her phone number is that it's way too proud of itself for the whole situation. "Hey I just met you/and this is crazy"? Really? No, it's not that crazy. It's your phone number. Asking him to call you (maybe) is not that bizarre. Ballsy, sure. Crazy, not so much.
Just for reference, here are some things the Jepster (just go with it) could say that would actually be insane:
1. "Hey, I just met you, and this is crazy, but I look great in white, so let's get married."
2. "Hey, I just met you, and this is crazy, but you have great bone structure; let's have a baby."
3. "Hey, I just met you, and this is crazy, but THE ALIENS ARE HERE! THIS IS NOT A DRILL!"
See, that last one was so crazy she couldn't even stay vaguely within a rhyme scheme.
But this is not enough. The song doesn't want us to think that Carly Rae Jepsen is some weird shrew harpy who throws her number at unwilling men all willy-nilly. Not possible, because, hey, she's attractive and she wants to make sure we know it: "And all the other boys try to chase me."
Well, bully for you, Carly Rae Jepsen. You've got so much sex appeal you don't even know what to do with it. Look at you being all selective and whatnot now, spurning the boys who admire you to offer your number to a total stranger who couldn't even be bothered to call you in a timely fashion or put on non-ripped jeans before he met you.
Also, "It's hard to look right at you baby"? Why? Is he ugly? Is he some sort of mythological monster? Are his teeth simply too dazzling? Is he emitting some kind of divine glow? How will this relationship ever work if she can't even look at him? Their wedding will be Carly Rae Jepsen blundering blindly down the aisle in the general direction of her beloved.
But "Call Me Maybe" tops itself in ridiculous lyrics and repetition when it gets to the bridge, which I will copy out in full so as to provide the full effect:
Before you came into my life I missed you so badWait. Stop. You guys. What did Carly Rae Jepsen DO before she met Ripped Jeans Guy? Sit in her dim room, saying to herself, "If only I had something to light up this space, like a higher-wattage bulb or A MAN WHO IS APPARENTLY RADIATING PURE SUNLIGHT"? I mean, really, Carly. Really.
I missed you so bad
I missed you so, so bad
Before you came into my life I missed you so bad
And you should know that
I missed you so, so bad.
And what's funnier is that the second-to-last line makes it clear that she's trying very hard to convey this feeling. Unless this guy is ACTUALLY a marble statue, I think he gets it. Really, Carly, it's okay. He knows. This song isn't exactly a prime example of subtlety. I mean, I know every issue of Cosmo features an article about how men are stupid and can't pick up on body language and social cues and whatnot (sidebar: UNFAIR. Men, I'm sorry), but you've been pretty clear about your intentions what with the number-giving and the apparent gaze-averting and all that.
