Got to give up $7.3 million

Robin Thicke performing in 2013 by Melissa Rose;
Wikimedia Commons, CC BY-SA 2.0

I have been a fan of Marvin Gaye's "Got to Give It Up" since it was first released in the late 1970s. I have repeatedly heard Robin Thicke and Pharrell Williams' "Blurred Lines." (Who hasn't? Like a drunk guy at a party, it was pretty much inescapable for a while.) I have no idea where the line is between inspiration and plagiarism.

So I'm familiar with both songs, although admittedly one more so than the other. Having said that, I never noticed a strong similarity between the two. I never had a "how dare they!" moment where I smelled ripoff and wanted to condemn the song solely for its sound.

For its lyrical content, that's another matter.

I think there's a Marvin Gaye "woooh!" lifted and embedded in "Blurred Lines." There's a similar percolating beat. Perhaps more lies underneath, when you take a note-for-note accounting of the two, but I just don't hear it. A vague similarity? Maybe. But couldn't that be ascribed to inspiration more than plagiarism? I'll leave that for the experts, but goodness knows, content is locked down enough already by overzealous copyright owners. (Hello, Disney!) I shudder to think that this might usher in a new era of lawsuits trying to parse the line between plagiarism and inspiration, all the while filling the coffers of certain companies, lawyers, and individuals that have the clout and power to sue.

Regardless, there is one bright ray in the midst of this dark cloud.

If for just a moment it wipes that smug smile off of Robin Thicke's cocky mug, if it spares us a few rotations of that incredibly sexist video on TV or YouTube, it will have all been worth it. Every penny of the $7.3 million.

Sorry, Pharrell. I respect you--just not your choice in songwriting partners.

Slurred lines, or, an embarrassment of bitches

Everytime I hear Robin Thicke sing "Blurred Lines," I have to stop and wonder this . . .

Whenever he sings about a "bitch" in his song, I wonder if he's talking about his lovely mother, Gloria Loring, or his lovely wife, Paula Patton, or someone other lovely female family member or acquaintance.

Like those "bitches" that strutted alongside of him naked in the nudie version of the video for the song.

So classy.

It must feel so hip-hop singing "bitch" repeatedly--especially for a hip-hop wannabe with minor Canadian celebrity royalty for a close relation.

What rhymes with "hug me," Robin? How about "slug me."

As in, me thinks you're a slug.

* * *

An update of sorts.

I was watching OMG Entertainment Death Spiral of Western Society! the other day when they ran a segment on Robbie and his dear old Dad, Alan Thicke.  

Hijole.

While blowing smoke up each other's arses for the cameras--and without any mention that little Rob has a mother who achieved a certain amount of fame in her own right--the pater praised the fils' superior physical condition.

Something along the lines of "He's in great shape, has a nice body, and looks good naked." Then Daddy gave a smile and perhaps a wink to the audience.

Even classier.

I don't think for a minute that there's anything more to that moment than this: That Robin may sing about bitches and have topless women parade around him at a video shoot, but the real whores of this story are him and his snappy pappy.