R Taylor Grow
Viewpoints Editor
Let’s talk about Miley Cyrus (because no one has since her VMA performance last August). Specifically, let’s talk Bangerz, Cyrus’ fourth album since she killed off her Disney Channel persona, “Hannah Montana.”
Perhaps she is conceptually endeavoring to actualize what her 2010 single “Can’t Be Tamed” seemed to promise. Bangerz does not ultimately comes across as edgy as her cover art suggests, and though Cyrus entered the scene with a bang, Bangerz as a whole does not point toward any resonance.
Structurally, Bangerz begins to complicate the formula that defines most twenty-something female pop albums — where both Demi Lovato and Selena Gomez introduce their respective album Demi and Stars Dance with fast-paced and addictive numbers, Bangerz takes a different approach, opening with “Adore You,” the slowest and second-longest song on the album, and one of two based on a relationship that is neither angry nor sad.
Almost terrifyingly suggesting an album entirely in the vein of sentimental tunes (we’ve all heard “Wrecking Ball”), the nontraditional opener gives way to the familiar sound of “We Can’t Stop,” then the title track, a sort of nonsensical collection of phrases featuring Britney Spears that quickly dispels the notion that this album is going to exclusively explore the depths of Cyrus’ romantic sensibilities.
Ultimately, the songs can almost be divided into three loose categories — in order of quantity: songs about love, or the lack of, from one party; songs about not giving a damn; and songs about Cyrus’ sexual freedom. And with seven of the 13 tracks breaching the topic of an unfortunate relationship, Bangerz fits into the mold perpetuated by every album released by an ex-Disney starlet, unexpected introduction aside.
However, this does not mean that the album is bad. Though conceptually the album does not shatter my expectations, Bangerz gains points for its lyrics (whether intentional or not).
Though most lines hold little weight, Bangerz does have some turn-up-the-radio-cause-this-is-my-sentence moments, like “4×4”’s “Driving so fast, ‘bout to piss on myself,” or “They ask me how I keep a man; I keep a battery pack,” which Cyrus sings in the title track, “SMS (Bangerz),” — in other words, whimsical statements that provoke subtle chortles, but hold no other consequence.
And Cyrus even seems a little reflective of Millennial culture at times, for example, in “Love Money Party,” rapping, “There ain’t much difference between a one night stand and one that ain’t for me.” Not particularly fresh, the line seems provocative, nonetheless, and perhaps mature for the social observer/participant “trying to get a line in the bathroom” in the album’s lead single, “We Can’t Stop.”
Hitting whimsical highs in tracks, “SMS (Bangerz) [feat. Britney Spears],” “4×4 (feat. Nelly),” and “#GETITRIGHT,” and grazing banal lows in “FU (feat. French Montana),” Bangerz is ultimately mediocre. It’s not something I would want to hear at a party without heavy remix, not something to which I can do my work and, unfortunately, not something to which I would feel particularly pumped while driving (when musical selection is perhaps the most important).
I have a playlist on my Spotify which I have titled, “Music I Like but Don’t Want to Listen to Right Now,” and, despite only being released about a week ago, I have ushered most of Cyrus’ album into the ever-growing compendium. #GETITRIGHT next time.