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In the pre-chorus, the guitars and bass have legato half notes and quarter notes while the drummer plays cross-stick eighth notes (if one is counting in a slow \(\begin4\\4\end\)). Without the snare drum backbeat, the texture lightens.
, weed, Informer by Snow, Africa by Toto, Karl Wolf s cover of Africa by Toto, Jason Mraz, Bob Marley posters, Maroon 5, Citizen Cope, and Jason Mraz. For the reasons of cultural appropriation outlined in Molanphy s article , Reggae Rock has become an inevitable part of the Billboard cycle, particularly during the summer, and this, precisely, explains why Rude has risen to the top.
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On the Strange Magic of "Rude" by Magic!
One of the things that people always tell you about Los Angeles but you can never fully comprehend is how spread out everything is. I realized this by spending the past week in LA and realizing I had to take a million cabs every single day to accomplish what seemed like rudimentary tasks. In New York, if you want to go out, you have the ability to go to a million bars in one night, because lots and lots of streets have lots and lots of bars on them. In L.A., not so much. If you want to go out, you’ll probably end up taking a bunch of cabs—one from where you’re staying to where your friends are, then one to the bar, then maybe another to a different bar, then one to get some food, then one back to wherever you’re staying. And this is just at night. During my week as a Los Angeles resident, I fell under the mercy of being driven around by people who are not me, listening to the radio to fill the crushing silence that is created when you don't like meeting new people and a stranger is driving you around. Which is how I learned to love “Rude” by Magic!, the affable Canadian reggae band that currently has a comfortable stranglehold on the pop charts.
AdvertisementThough you have probably heard “Rude” a bunch of times no matter where you live, it is without a doubt the most popular song in Los Angeles. I know this because every radio station there is playing it constantly. The track gets spins on pop and adult stations, then it has a remix by Zedd that wins over the EDM stations, and, incredibly enough, there is a remix featuring Kid Ink and TY Dolla $ign that gets played on rap radio. “Rude” is inescapable, like one of those improbable diseases in a science fiction movie that’s on the brink of wiping out humanity unless Matt Damon or whoever can get the antidote from Somalia to the lab in Boston without the evil corporation stopping him first. Don’t get me wrong—I fucking love “Rude.” It’s catchy and goofy and I love how it lazily rolls into itself rather than just jumping in and assaulting your ears. It’s sneaky. It’s like Brian, your one friend who passed out on your couch one night, then did it again the next weekend but stayed over for two nights, and again three nights the next week, and before you know it he’s basically a bonus roommate. And just like you can either hate Brian for having moved in without your consent or love him for being all endearing and doing the dishes and cleaning after the party, it’s easier to love him. Because just like Brian, “Rude” ain’t going anywhere for a while.
If you have heard “Rude” once, you know its plot: Boy meets girl, boy wants to marry girl, boy asks girl’s father’s permission to marry girl, father denies said permission probably because he doesn’t want his daughter shacking up with the lead singer of a Canadian reggae band, boy asks why father’s gotta be so rude, then announces that he and girl are going to get married anyway and the dad can go fuck himself. As far as I can tell, it contains zero metaphors, unless the song’s hero marrying the daughter despite understanding that he’s actually accomplished nothing in the long-term is an allegory for Obama’s bombing of ISIS.
AdvertisementIf I had to come up with a list of things that we, as a culture, could blame for “Rude” and Magic! as a whole, it would read as such: Canada, third wave ska, 311, Fugazi (who allowed 311 to open up for them at their first show), O.A.R., A.O.R., weed, “Informer” by Snow, “Africa” by Toto, Karl Wolf’s cover of “Africa” by Toto, Jason Mraz, Bob Marley posters, Maroon 5, Citizen Cope, and Jason Mraz. But Magic! would not exist without The Police. Despite the list of cultural factors that led to Magic! hypothetically being brought into existence, the band has claimed The Police as their sole influence. On their recently released record Don't Kill the Magic, the band proves so good at ripping The Police off that they make everything Sting and company did from Zenyatta Mondatta and before sound like amateurish piffle. It’s not that Magic! are that good, it’s just that The Police were three dudes who, after years of practice, stumbled into sounding like our popular conception of what “The Police” sound like (reggae-lite rhythms, bouncy WHOA-OH choruses, dumb spirituality from the lead singer, etc.). Magic! are trying to sound like “The Police” on purpose.
As such, “Rude” is simultaneously the greatest song of all time and the worst. It is completely toothless and utterly shameless, the result of the entirety of humanity waking up one day and saying, “Know what? We haven’t had a Canadian reggae song in a while” and then manifesting Nasri, Magic!’s doofy human man-bun of a frontman who’s penned songs for Justin Bieber, Pitbull, Akon, Jason Derulo, The Wanted, and Michael Fucking Bolton. The guy’s an absolute mercenary—his songs are stuffed with big, dumb choruses and more hooks than a room with Velcro carpet. The first time you listen to “Rude,” you say, “……wait, this? This is the Number One song in the country?” And then it follows you everywhere, in cars and in boats and airplanes and restaurants, and you come to anticipate its little moments of tension and release, its dumb-ass plot, that ridiculous false equivalency of a chorus: “Why you gotta be so rude? Don’t you know I’m human too?” I’m not sure Magic! are human, though. They’re more like evil Canadian reggae robots.
In a way, Magic! has always existed. That they have one influence (again, The Police) is ultimately meaningless. Their archetype they fulfill remains the same, even if the actual aesthetics have shifted over time. Magic! is the next iteration of Bruno Mars, who is a one-man Maroon 5, who were themselves a streamlined version of Sugar Ray, who were little more than a Hall & Oates clone, run through whichever Instagram filter is labeled “Brad Nowell,” etc. These bands always have a frontman who’s so sexy that if you dated him you’d always bring him around your friends, but so stupid that you’d glare at him every time he talked. Bands like this are wildly popular, but don’t have “fans” per se, they just have clinically perfect pop-rock songs that become well-known, that you end up listening to in American Eagle and commercials for Nivea and shit, worm their way onto the radio and into your soul. They simplify interesting ideas and make them as palatable to as many people as possible, cramming ideas and hooks into the world’s largest can of Cheez Wiz and squirting the perfectly engineered concoction into the open, hungry mouth of Top 40 radio.
Pop hits are by their very nature are ephemeral, and though "Rude" and Magic! may very well fade into obscurity, we’ll never quite forget them. Whenever VH1 inevitably makes I Love the 2010s!, a wizened Michael Ian Black will be wheeled out to crack obvious jokes about who in “Rude” was actually being rude to whom, and we will all think about the summer of 2014, which was dominated by “Rude.” No one will talk about the shuttering of 285 Kent, no one will talk about whether or not Yung Lean is overhyped, no one will ever talk about Spoon's zillionth album being slightly better than ones before it. They will talk about Magic!, a band who dared to be so big and so bland that they ended up mattering.
Drew Millard is smokin' on that Nasri / Listenin' to Pete Tosh. He's on Twitter - @drewmillard
Simply put, I didn’t feel that the advent of this song warranted any write up whatsoever.
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Reviews for "Charlotte Tilbury's Magic Serum: The Key to Ageless Beauty"
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