Twenty-Something Year Old Journalist

To keep on the theme of admitting embarrassing things about myself, I am here to admit that it is constantly on my mind what my Spotify Wrapped will look like at the end of the year. And by Spotify Wrapped, I do mean the music app Spotify’s annual end of the year insights. And by constantly on my mind, I don’t mean because I’m excited to see what my listening patterns were this year and what Glee Cast version song inevitability makes it to my top five most listened to songs. 

By constantly on my mind I mean I am continually attempting to figure out which artists will be lucky enough to grace my top five most listened to artists, and more specifically, how I will be perceived with those possible top artists. 

Now, I will acknowledge that this comes from a deeper issue, an obsessive need to constantly know how people are perceiving me, but for now, let’s just pretend it’s solely about music. 

I like pop music. Some would even say I love pop music. I also like alternative music, and classical music, and Lea Michelle’s “Don’t Rain on My Parade” cover from Glee. (I got to see her perform the number as Fanny Brice on Broadway in Funny Girl and my life has never been the same) But I must admit, I really like pop. 

But if I really like pop so much, and if I really have a sneaky suspicion that Taylor Swift will, yet again, be my most listened to artist of the year, why do I feel so embarrassed telling people I like pop? 

It’s obvious that pop music isn’t an underground, exclusive genre of music that’s only known by the most chic individuals of society, pop music is everywhere! Pop music often occupies the top 40, and if it’s any evidence from Taylor Swift’s Era’s Tour, or the rise of Midwest Princess Chappell Roan, (who, I’d like to add, I discovered before she blew up) pop music is very popular. 

But despite its obvious popularity, why does pop music seem to get a bad rap? It almost feels like admitting to liking and listening to pop music is an admittance to a lack of intelligence, a lack of depth, that it’s an invitation for others to assume an intellectual superiority over the accused pop listener. 

When bestowed the high-stakes job of music curator, I often panic. If it was up to me and my playlists, a mix of Dua Lipa and Olivia Rodrigo with sprinkles of ABBA and Mitski would serenade my listeners, but instead, I am forced to surrender my music taste to that of Travis Scott and to random loud noises more commonly known as EDM out of fear for being outed as a pop lover. 

On the common occasions when my identity is discovered, (apparently stating that Lady Gaga and Beyonce’s collaboration on “Telephone” should replace the “National Anthem” is a clear sign of a pop connoisseur) I am suddenly met with ridicule and accused of not having ‘taste.’

What about pop garners this negative reaction? Do people not enjoy fun music? Do they not enjoy catchy song lyrics? Or I wonder if there is a connection between pop music’s main demographic being women and society’s weird obsession with tearing down and delegitimizing things that women love and find community and validation in? 

Is it finally time for us as a society to discuss why during the infamous ‘Bieber-fever’ era men had to launch horrific insults and threats to a teenager whose fan base was mainly derived of similar-aged teen girls? Or why men now feel a need to express their hatred and dislike of Taylor Swift, unprovoked, when millions of women around the world feel seen with Taylor Swift’s writing and feel like they have finally found a community they belong to? Or why pop music is the one genre that is seen as illegitimate and somehow also the genre that is dominated by female consumers? Must I spell it out for you? 

I like pop music because I like the way it sounds, I like the fun, up-beat tempo, the dancey-ness, the Jack Antonoff of it all, but I also like pop music because it can be relatable. Sure, I can’t exactly relate to Sabrina Carpenter’s “Espresso,” (I’m more of a latte girl) but I can relate to themes of friendship, and insecurity, and growth, just as I am sure many women can relate to the sometimes more common themes of heartbreak and love. 

Let me connect some dots here. Pop music often allows women to feel seen and understood through these themes and through meaningful lyrics, but because the struggles and experiences of women are often viewed as illegitimate, of course pop would have to be too. 

This idea that not liking pop music makes you a deep and intellectual person, while those who like pop music are simply annoying fangirls helps to devalue the experiences and feelings of women, and is also just plain wrong. You are not deep for not liking pop music, you’re actually just uninteresting. 

So, next time I find myself in the dreaded DJ position, I will happily bust out my Britney Spears and Rihanna while you try to hide yourself singing along to the lyrics in the back of the car.