I have a really varied taste in music. It’s nothing great. I like what I like. I never apologize for it, but I know that if anyone ever found my iPod, they would think it belonged to a teen-age girl from New Jersey who likes a lot of music that can be found in episodes of Scrubs. I have no idea what’s cool these days, and I had no idea what was cool when these days were my days. I like what I like. If you found my iPod, you also might throw it away.
As diverse as my musical taste may be, pop and dance was never my thing. It still isn’t. Yet for some reason, one that will be debated by scientists until the world is eventually completely under water, I can’t get enough of Katy Perry’s “Firework.” It’s a sickness. The first step toward a cure is admitting you have a problem, but I’ve yet to find a 12-step program for Firework.
After about 50 listens of Firework, I’m convinced it is the worst written song since Alanis Morissette’s “Ironic.”
Firework just makes no sense. It’s as if it is written by someone who just learned English a year ago in night school. If you read the lyrics, it’s as if the song was written in Italian, dropped into Google Translator, then placed in front of Katy Perry to sing. It’s atrocious. It’s an atrocious atrocity of atrociousness.
To help me deal with this, I have decided to analyze the lyrics in the hopes of better understanding them. Chances are, this is not going to work.
Do you ever feel like a plastic bag, drifting through the wind, wanting to start again?
Never in the history of mankind — or I guess since we first started manufacturing plastic as a human race — has anyone ever said to themselves or to another, “I feel like a plastic bag that’s drifting through the wind and I just want to start again.” Never. Never ever. It’s perhaps the dumbest opening to a song ever. There’s no way anyone can read those words and not have a brain embolism.
I’ve watched American Beauty about a dozen times. That’s about all I have when it comes to a plastic bag. So let’s say a friend approached me and said, “Dave, I feel like a plastic bag.” Immediately, I would say, “Are you telling me you’re the most beautiful thing in the world?” Because as far as referencing feeling like a plastic bag goes, that’s about all there is. I can’t imagine how bad you have to be at selecting words to come up with feeling like a plastic bag. Talking to Katy Perry must be like talking to … I don’t know. An idiot? There can’t be much going on up there.
And let’s say you feel like a plastic bag. You’re thin, small, floating through the air. You’re lost, having been set adrift and at the mercy of the wind. What the hell kind of plastic bag wants to “start again?” And how exactly does a plastic bag “start again” anyway? Plastic isn’t a living thing. It can’t go back to an earlier time when it was just a piece of plastic. Do plastic bags secretly yearn to return to the supermarket and reattach themselves to the other plastic bags? Or when plastic bags get caught in the wind, is there an initial plan Katy Perry knows about when it comes to plastic bags? Are plastic bags like skydivers only they have no control over their parachute-like travels? Jesus H this is a terrible song lyric.
Do you ever feel so paper thin, like a house of cards, one blow from caving in?
I’m sensing a lot of extra words here, but that’s only because there are a lot extra words here. You see, all cards are thin. However, they are not paper thin. Cards are thicker than paper. Go grab a piece of paper and a 5 of diamonds. Notice the difference in thickness. I’ll wait. Go for it.
See? Definite difference in thickness. Now, let’s say I’m just being picky. That’s fair. I am. Still, my original point about excess words here is valid. Did Katy Perry want to differentiate from really thick playing cards? Let’s say the lyric was, “Do you ever feel like a house of cards, one blow from caving in?” You get the point, right? We all do. No one would hear that and say, “Uh, what about the cards on the awesome 1980s game show Card Sharks? Those cards were huge, Katy. God, you’re so unclear.”
Just like with the first lyric, no one has ever said they feel like a house of cards. That’s like I saying I feel like a shoelace or a sprinkler. It carries no meaning to any human being who hears it.
Do you ever feel already buried deep? Six-feet under screams but no one seems to hear a thing?
We’re finally getting to some decent imagery. Sure, everyone has felt buried. By responsibility, expectations, the burden of keeping up with Lady Gaga in shock value weirdness in an effort to cover up your lack of talent. My point is with the word “seems” here. It’s as if Katy Perry doesn’t understand how sound travels. Or how the word “seems” should be used.
The use of “seems” in this instance indicates that she believes that if you scream, someone should hear you. However, anyone who is six-feet underground can scream all they want. Their voice won’t penetrate the coffin and all that earth. It’s like saying, “My husband has been dead for 11 years, but no one seems to think he’s alive.”
Then again, Katy Perry never does specify under what exactly this person is buried. Maybe it’s marshmallows or kittens. Unless you’re diabetic or have cat allergies, that’s a pretty fun burial. Or maybe Katy Perry meant six feet worth of those balls at Chuck E. Cheese. If you scream under those, people should hear you. It’s how parents find their kids.
By the way, I will be referring to Katy Perry as Katy Perry throughout this piece.
After this opening, we’re igniting the night, owning the sky, fourth of July, baby we’re fireworks. This is the part where I start dancing. The lyrics don’t matter at this point.
But later on they do. This portion of the song is when we meet Katy Perry, expert meteorologist.
If you only knew what the future holds, after a hurricane comes a rainbow.
Katy Perry is from California, so her experience with hurricanes and their destruction is, at best, minimal. However, her meteorology degree does allow her to speak on topics like weather patterns, so I think we should hear her out. Being a weather lady requires you to know about what happens after hurricanes and predict the future, so couple that with her singing, this lyric is right in Katy Perry’s wheelhouse.
It is true that a rainbow can appear after a rainstorm, and what is hurricane but a really big rainstorm. However, there’s no guarantee that you’ll see a rainbow after a hurricane. However, you are guaranteed to see millions of dollars in destruction and flooding that can lead to loss of life and destroyed property. Very rarely do you ever see a family of four living in a shelter talking to a news person and the mom says, “Our house was washed away, our dog Snickers drowned and we’re not sure if we’ll ever get back our family photo albums that are filled with memories. But holy crap, did you see that rainbow as our dog’s body was swept away!?! It was awesome! Baby, we’re fireworks!”
Oh well. I guess Katy Perry wanted to keep it light. But she talks about weather some more not long after the hurricane/rainbow stuff.
Like a lightning bolt, your heart will glow, and when it’s time, you’ll know.
Katy Perry is a mystery writer, in that most of what she writes is a mystery to me. Is she singing about ET when he’s hanging out with Elliot? Because that right there was the creepiest friendship of the 1980s, and I don’t like thinking about it. We have no idea how old ET was and what his intentions were with Elliot. Maybe ET was treating Earth the way 40-year-old men treat visits to Thailand. I wish Spielberg would discuss that on the DVD.
As for the lightning bolt, does it actually glow? Does light glow, or does light make things glow? For instance, when you see a glow stick, it’s the stick that’s glowing, right? No one ever refers to the stuff inside the stick. The sky can light up. A person can have a glow. I’ve never once heard anyone talk about the glow of a lightning bolt.
Then again, maybe Katy Perry is getting Inception/snow level on us here and is simply painting a picture of what happens when someone takes a defibrillator to your heart. There’s a lightning bolt, your heart glows, and if it’s time to die, you’ll know. Wow, Katy Perry. That’s beautiful. I hope my heart gives out when I’m 77 and jazzercising to this song.
That ends the portion of the song where Katy Perry is waving around her college degree and starts speaking to us on our level. This part of the song is by far my favorite, and really shows you the many great things Katy Perry can do when it comes to song writing.
Boom, boom, boom
Even brighter than the moon, moon, moon
It’s always been inside of you, you, you
And now it’s time to let it through-ough-ough
Inside of me? Me? Me? Bra-vo, Katy Perry. You just rhymed boom with moon, and you did it three times. And, you remarked on the brightness of the moon. Even brighter than the moon, she says. We’re really setting the bar quite low when it comes to brightness, aren’t we? That’s like saying, “Even taller than Tyrion Lannister, -ster, -ster.” To be fair though, when it comes to boom, boom, booming and glowing, you want to start small and work your way up to the sun.
My follow-up question to Katy Perry is this — what exactly has always been inside of me? Boom, boom, boom has always been inside of me? The moon? Minimal glowing? Fireworks? I don’t have any of those things inside of me. But let’s say I did have the moon inside of me, where am I letting it through? It sounds like it would be a painful process. I think I’d like to let my body break down the moon and digest properly before letting it through, -ough, -ough.
That’s all I have. I guess I’ll still listen to the song because I’m an idiot. Oh! There’s also another part of the song where she talks about opening doors to roads. I don’t drive much, so perhaps there have been changes in traffic patterns where we now drive cars through doors. I wouldn’t want to spend 500 words questioning that imagery only to find out toll booths have doors now. The last thing I want to do is look like an idiot.
