It’s kind of ironic how many pop stars sing about the burden of fame. Like, if it’s so hard to be famous, why do you keep putting yourself in the spotlight? It’s easy to tell who’s thirsty for tabloid attention and who’s not, but it strikes me everytime a star talks about being famous. If I think my boring little life is hard, I just need to remember that their charmed one is ten times harder.
All that aside, they do make fair points about the emptiness of fame, and while most of them are calling the kettle black, they’re also making some poignant remarks on what it means to chase their star. Because if you think about it, all of us have had our moments of fame, big or small. So we can kinda relate. Which is why we keep listening to pop stars.
Take it from 13-year-old Audrey. My writing won an award at a youth writing conference when I was in seventh grade. And not-yet-braces’d, pimpled, same-outfit-everyday me was cool for exactly two weeks in the Dutton Christian Middle School hallways. Maybe even less than that. Classmates who never gave me the time of day congratulated me, asked me questions about my writing. I was interviewed by the tiniest of tiny local newspapers. But dangit, I felt like I’d finally made it. It was such a high.
Until it wasn’t such a high anymore. It felt good to be recognized, congratulated, and lauded, but when it was over, I felt…depressed. Even in the midst of it, I felt down. Because you can’t be that high forever. That’s why stars do drugs and overdose on them – they chase it so hard they can never be without it.
Now, middle school fame is nothing like super-stardom, but think about those “little” moments of fame in your life. Heck, why do you think I write a blog that could potentially be seen by anyone? You think I want to average 15 viewers every day for the rest of my life? No. Why does anyone do anything?
Humans naturally chase recognition, in big or small ways. It tends to manifest itself the most in cultural icons or national treasures (people like Kanye West, Beyonce, or Ellen DeGeneres come to mind.) People who are known by a particular outfit, or song, or nickname. Because how cool would it be to be that iconic? And most of us chase that, in our own way – the promotion at work, the followers on Instagram, the make and model of our car, or house, or boat.
But ironically, the people on the top are the people who warn us that it’s not the best way to get high.
Day Twenty-Six: Made for You – OneRepublic
I know exactly what you think of when you think of OneRepublic. Your teenage self screaming “IT’S TOO LATE TO ‘POLOGIZE” at the top of your lungs after your eighth grade crush ignored you in the hallway for the fifth time after talking to them once. And I don’t blame you. OneRepublic tends to be good, poppy fun. Their sound has matured slightly beyond the 2007 “Dreaming Out Loud” (which, in all honesty, has a pretty well-rounded sound to it.)
While it’s good, poppy fun, it’s also pretty heartfelt. It’s not all young love and late parties. It’s yearning to fix a relationship (“Au Revoir”) and dusting yourself off (“Marchin On.”) And it’s getting real about fame.
When I saw OneRepublic in concert, Ryan Tedder sang an almost-full concert with laryngitis. Since that day, he’s been one of my heroes, because he gave 110% when he was probably feeling half of that. I’ve never heard “Apologize” performed more beautifully, and he hit every single dang note all night long. It was probably one of the funnest nights of my life.
My only critique of that show was they didn’t perform my favorite song – “Made for You.” But that’s a small grievance, because they delivered regardless. I like this song for – you guessed it – the keys. The keys are amazing in this song. It’s the perfect intro to their sophomore album “Waking Up.” And, as you might guess, Tedder hits all the right notes too. I swear his voice is composed of a thousand tiny angels living in his larynx.
I was writing, thinking with my long hand
Put pen to paper, everything was sinkin
Then start to wonder how you’re gonna handle me
When I’m under, swimmin in the darkest sea
The song opens on our hero writing. But maybe cautiously writing. Perhaps he’s plagued by the dilemma most sophomore albums face – will my songs become fan service or will I keep writing from the heart? Are their songs going to get too dark, too gritty, too real? Should they pander, or ponder?
Everybody wants you to make it, it’s all yours
Everybody wants you to take it, it’s all yours
Everybody wants you to make it, it’s all yours
Everybody wants you to take it, t-t-take it
It’s how you feel when you feel that initial spark of fame. Everyone is rooting for you, yay! Our hero hears this voice in the back of his head as he’s producing his risky second album. Everyone is on your side…unless your second album is a flop. In that case, we’ll move on to the next up-and-comer.
Can you feel all the love?
Can you feel all the love?
Can you feel all the love
Like it was made for you
Like it was made for you
Like it was made for you
Oh, it was made for you
This part of the song, specifically the lead-in to the chorus, has a taunting quality to it. It’s like the writer can hear all those bantering voices in his head – all of the adoring fans, the gushing agents, the optimistic PR reps. Can’t you feel it? You were basically made for this life. And it was made for you. So don’t give up this shot.
What a perfect way to open a second album. Everyone remembers the first one. It’s the second time around that you have to wow them even more. Like when a writer or filmmaker makes a sequel. It’s always judged much more harshly than the first. Fame is something that’s maintained, it seems. You could easily slide into obscurity in such a media-saturated environment.
Tell me somethin, somethin that can move me
T-tell me lies and I swear you’re gonna lose me
Gettin like an ocean jealous of the fish it feeds
Your devotion swimmin inside of me
In the second verse, he gets pretty real. He’s cutting the crap, essentially. He’s decided that he’s going to write the right stuff, the from-the-heart stuff, not the pandering stuff. Even if it makes him vulnerable to everyone around him – including those fickle, adoring fans.
Because sometimes vulnerability isn’t sexy in pop culture. We’d rather have rah-rah bops or mindless beats. We might not want to chew on the heavy stuff. But this pop star has made a decision – he’s going to turn pop on its head.
After this, both the keys and Tedder’s vocals soar. There’s an interlude of beautiful (dare I say, exposed and vulnerable?) keys, followed by Tedder’s raw (exposed) voice soaring to its highest register as he screams, “Can you feel all the love?” Again, with that same taunting quality.
In the outro, we’re introduced into something totally new, which actually serves as an intro to the next track on the album.
All the right friends in all the right places
All the right moves and all the right faces
That’s a pretty good summary of what fame is. It’s being at the right place at the right time, and it’s keeping up the image. So what’s next for this sophomore band? Well, we know the answer. OneRepublic has its spot in the big leagues. They’re not as well-known and loved as say One Direction or P!nk, but they’ve made a name for themselves, and they have listeners in the tens of millions on Spotify (which is definitely saying something.)
So maybe being cautionary about fame isn’t always popular. But its always timely, and it’s always necessary.
Whether fame was made for you or not.
Audrey D. DeBoer 