Ten years after the release of Robin Thicke's controversial single, how much progress has the music industry really made when it comes to sexism?
When singer-songwriter and Mercury Prize-nominee Rebecca Lucy Taylor, AKA Self Esteem, took to Twitter to comment on the lyrics to Olly Murs' I Hate You When You're Drunk, she was joined by voices such as radio DJ Shaun Keaveny in criticism of the seemingly-misogynistic and certainly controversial lyrics. Ironically coming off an album entitled Marry Me, the words seen in the screenshot Self Esteem presented "without comment" are hard to look at without reaching for a little red flag. The presence of sexism in the industry is not exactly hidden. Female-identifying artists are constantly having to battle comments, public and private incidents, and the systemic issues continue to persist. It is now 2023. Somehow, we are three years in to the 2020s. And yet, looking back on Robin Thicke's infamous Blurred Lines release, you wouldn't know this much time had passed.
Murs' lyrics essentially tell the tale of somebody who is unhappy with the way their partner acts when they go out and... have a good time? He tells his significant other that "you look like a mess" when they're just enjoying singing some Whitney Houston, tells them to "quit acting like a fool" and that his "ears are bleedin'" from repetitions of stories. He conjures up an image of a jealous boyfriend, sat at the end of the table, annoyed that his partner has friends. Instead of trying to get involved and have a good time, he will just sit there and mope - and inevitably start an argument when they get home.
"And now you're taking photographs, why am I the only one who don't laugh?"
I don't know, pal. Maybe you're just a miserable prick? And anyway, you should be the one taking photographs for them. Pssht.
In defence of Olly Murs and his strange tale of an undiagnosed incel, it could be seen as a bit of light-hearted fiction. Sure, drunk people can be annoying. I'm a prick when I've had a drink! We all are, I bet. But I don't think any of us would vent our frustrations about other people in the form of a vindictive pop song that degrades a woman while they try and have a good night out. It's the casual nature of this form of sexism that I think is most dangerous. Passing it off as a bit of fun and using the word 'cheeky' when defending yourself is pretty insulting. And anybody who describes themselves as 'cheeky' is as dangerous as they come.
Now we come to Mr. Robin Thicke. I'll admit, when I first heard the song as a teenager, I thought nothing of it. I didn't immediately like or dislike the song and it was always being played on the radio. My mum would hum it around the house. It was just sort of there. It was the video that first seemed to spark controversy. It featured Thicke, T.I and Pharrell Williams (I thought better of you, mate), with topless models Emily Ratajkowski, Elle Evans, and Jessi M'Bengu parading round in front of the fully-clothed men. Of course, it's the appearance of the female nude in the video that grabs the attention of headlines before the actual lyrics of a rapey, sleezy pop track. Thicke's lyrics are not subtle - and I think that's what I find so fascinating about all of this. Pop music seems to be the perfect hiding place for nastiness (a bit like the BBC in the seventies and eighties); stick a catchy melody on an endorsement of sexual assault and people will actively promote your message without even thinking about it. We really do need to be paying more attention, don't we? The 'blurred lines' referred to in the song are literally the metaphorical lines between physical touch and Thicke taking it to mean they'd like to be fucked. And if we know anything, it's that people seem to have a hard time understanding the difference between those.
As I went to look at the lyrics for this, I almost laughed at how awful the messages are. The track literally anthropomorphisises a woman, saying that there had been an attempt to "domesticate" her but she was just "an animal". Lovely. What gets me is Thicke's insistence that he is the good guy in this scenario. It reads like a dictator making a speech to his newly-conquered peoples, attempting to convince them that they wanted to be invaded, raped and pillaged. Thicke wants to "liberate" this person. By that, he of course means fuck them.
The only defence I can think of for Robin Thicke is to assign some of the blame to the industry in general. Thicke was able to write, record and release this song to the masses because the music industry believes that it is okay to do so. Presumably, somebody at Interscope Records had a little look at the track and gave it the green light. Therein lies part of the problem. There is still no excuse for the individuals responsible for the song's creation, and the accompanying video, but let's look at the bigger picture here.
Clearly, there's a difference in severity here between Murs and Thicke. However, I think the point is really that the undertones are still there, bubbling away. It's less about what Murs is actually saying and more about what the lyrics represent about how we view women, especially through the lens of another male-dominated industry. So why are popular artists allowed to commercially advertise sexist attitudes?
A buzzword that has dominated twitter-spheres and headlines over the past ten years or so is 'cancel culture'. There are problems with cancel culture that, in my mind, represent some of the worst traits of those who are chronically online. It isn't the most effective method of delivering justice and can often backfire or be aimed at the wrong people. However, what is valid is the idea of holding people accountable for their actions, often no matter how long ago those actions occurred. But does cancel culture work? It's a difficult one to measure. There's a big disparity between the industry and those who consume it - meaning, although Thicke may be 'cancelled' for the general public, he may not be short of job opportunities. In fact, at time of writing, he is a judge on The Masked Singer US.
This does and should matter to us, as small-scale consumers and human beings. Olly Murs should have had somebody point out the potentially controversial nature of his song, rather than it be a surprise when the audience reaction was as it was. The fact that Murs was still allowed to release a song with such overt sexist tones in 2022 shows that the industry is still broken. And this has consequences, all the way down to grassroots level. As detailed in Izzy Marquez's brilliant article last month, the culture of sexual assault and sexism is still rife across music venues. The work of organisations such as Tits Upon Tyne is necessary because of what venue owners, promoters and some gig-goers deem to be acceptable towards groups of minorities. What does it say about the willingness to change this when the songs people might be dancing to are actively promoting those appalling actions?
It isn't censorship to want this to change. It doesn't damage free speech (let's not get into that debate right now). What it does is encourage common sense, to think a little further about what lyrics such as Murs' and Thicke's might normalise. However casual the sexism, there is a consequence. The way we consume media now, in such large doses and with such regularity, it's easy to soak up information and habits without realising it. Andrew Tate's chokehold on young men was helped massively by the availability of short-form content on TikTok and Twitter. Without thinking, we form opinions that are based off what we see online. It's difficult to avoid, and cancelling influencers like Tate can often result in martyrdom. But surely, it's better than letting people like him have free reign to spout hatred.
Moving back to the dilemma at hand, we should ask ourselves what has really changed. And the answer is, fundamentally, unfortunately, not much.
Thankfully, the speed at which Olly Murs' lyrics were called out by Twitter users was much quicker than it may have been ten years ago. Perhaps we have learned a little from Blurred-gate and are more willing to take a closer look at songs - and the artists who create them. Nevertheless, it is clear that the actual industry is reluctant to change its ways quite so quickly. A sudden, titanic shift may not feasible, so all we can do is chip away at it.
The only thing we can do is call it out.
In response to Isabel Marquez's article (linked above), Bad Taste has created a forum post for discussing issues such as this. If there are any stories you'd like to put out there, or any questions you'd like to ask fellow members, sign up for free and feel free to post them on there!
Articles I read while writing this:
Can I Be A Feminist And Listen to Hip-Hop? by Olive Pometsey
I'm Tryna Find The Words To Describe This Girl Without Being Disrespectful - Sexism In Music Lyrics by Kate