Artist: Katy Perry
Album: Teenage Dream
Critic: Rudy Klapper
Publication: Sputnikmusic, 2010
Writing Disorders: Scorn Disease, Infectious Punctuation
Truth Brother: “and threesomes (nothing screams rebellion like an Eiffel tower)”
Rudy, I have a confession. Even before I started scrawling red ink on your review, I combed the Net for emo autobiographies and juicy photos of you – anything to ridicule. I’m not above poking fun at a dude’s BMI if he gropes musicians with enough adverbs. Trouble is that you’re a good-looking cat. And as the pinnacle of manhood myself, I know it’s hard roughing up a handsome man on the basis of his looks. You’ve got a crummy hairdo, but there’s Lou Reed in your rugged face and that’s cool with me.
So I’ll have to settle on just picking apart this salty booger you wrote. I don’t need a pie chart confirming Katy Perry’s low rank in line to tickle your ear, but maybe some of my readers could use the visual aid:
Since you love analogies so much, here’s one to chew. Picture a dude writing an angry 700-word product review on Amazon because Mall Madness didn’t live up to his expectations for a board game. Got that image? Good. Now read this:
“those wretched lyrics”
“front-loading your record with terrible tracks”
“it’s a terrible song with a double entendre so blunt”
Were they cheddar synths or provolone? Seriously, what’s wrong with you, Rudy? It’s a pop album, dude. I can only speak for myself, but even if I still had the gall to dump on musicians, I’d probably take it down a notch here. After all, it’s a naked woman on a cloud. Who knows…maybe chicks pose nude for reasons OTHER than selling out. You might have sucked more from your headphones if you pictured Katy Perry slamming your dong like a Liu Kang uppercut. I’m sure you’re already denying any possibility of holding an erection to this album’s music, but you could have at least tried thinking dirty thoughts. Or maybe not…
“why do you spend four minutes demanding to see my tool?”
“a song so repulsively crass and soulless that it makes “Dirrty”-era Aguilera look like Mandy Moore.”
Well shoot, John Calvin, maybe you should try the Buggles. If Katy Perry’s repulsively crass, what’s Cannibal Corpse? You sure you’re not just heaving hyperbole around like a lead sock?
Like most other folks who nitpick music instead of making it, you had a royal problem with this musician’s lyrics. Since you wrote enough horizontal beat markers into your review, let’s see how your lyrics stack up, champ. Hyphen away:
Whoa, now I’m screaming sing the chorus again. Ladies and gentlemen, that was Rudy Klapper singing “Can’t Find a Thesaurus.”
I can’t really carp on technical stuff since your review was actually readable, but I still managed to find a couple really dumb points. You know, like scolding “desperate” adolescents as if you were more than two years out from being one. Or this:
“You could have been the next Gaga”
Oh, because Gaga was big in the ‘80s and Katy Perry’s poised to explode in the ‘20s? Rudy, there’s a one-year age difference between the two singers, and Gaga’s the younger one. Generally someone isn’t hailed as the “next” fill in the blank when the blank’s a contemporary who ain’t leaving the mountaintop anytime soon.
Rudy, you’re not a bad writer. At least you’re nowhere close to some of the fools I feature on RipFork. But from one prick to another, “there’s nothing sadder than wasted talent.” A great Klapper taught me that.