Driving to Nowra last week my iPod shuffled me up a playlist that on the face of it seemed like any random, merry medley to stave off the mild monotony of a 40-minute trip. Looking back now, I believe Apple Inc. sent me evil, subliminal cues to adopt an aggressively misogynistic world view.
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Just to be clear, my iPod is devoid of rap and hip-hop - genres in which women are routinely objectified, belittled, threatened and openly hated. But - as I discovered during my trip - who needs hip-hop when you've got "classic rock" on your iPod?
As I steered out of town the first track seemed innocuous enough. "Getting Better" off the 1967 Beatles album, Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, kicked off with its chirping guitar intro and the Fab Four's signature three-part harmonies. "It's getting better all the ti-ii-iime ..."
It presents as an upbeat, optimistic ditty rich with swirling falsetto hopes of things "getting better - better - behh-tahhhhh ..."
It is, in fact, a sour rant by a malcontent twerp who reckons he deserves a pat on the back because he decided to stop bashing his girlfriend:
"I used to be cruel to my woman / I beat her and kept her apart from the things that she loved / Man I was mean but I'm changing my scene / And I'm doing the best that I can. Oooh ooh / I admit it's getting better / A little better all the time (it can't get no worse)."
The message here is undeniable; while assaulting your partner is considered "mean" it is also acceptable enough to mention in passing in a song.
Remember, this was a full 30 years before Keith Flint sparked international outrage by vowing to "smack my bitch up" in a Prodigy song with the same heart-warming title.
But of course everybody thought The Beatles were as cute as puppies and Paul McCartney - who actually sang "Getting Better" - was particularly cuddly.
My question is this: "What, exactly, is getting better Paul?" Is it the woman's injuries? Are things better now because she's being allowed contact with her family and friends?
Or is it better because the protagonist is taking steps to address domestic violence and anger management issues?
It's not surprising that McCartney's co-Beatle John Lennon contributed some of the lyrics to "Getting Better" (I wonder which ones?) because he was the band's certified, self-confessed wife-beater.
Punching women out is something Lennon alluded to in "You Can't Do That" off of The Beatles Help! album from 1965. This song also featured on my drive to Nowra.
"I've got something to say that might cause you pain / If I catch you talking to that boy again / I'm gonna let you down and leave you flat / Because I told you before, oh you can't do that."
If you were Lennon's first wife Cynthia - whom Lennon infamously clobbered outside a ladies' loo because she danced with a friend of his - it wouldn't have been a stretch to transpose the words "let" with "slap" and "leave" with "knock".
But in Lennon's mind it was the girlfriend's fault; "Please listen to me if you wanna stay mine / I can't help my feelings / I go outta my mind!"
Naww, John couldn't help it! Maybe he should've tried giving peace a chance.
Fast forward 15 years and British songwriters are still having issues. Not far past the Bendalong turn-off the iPod shuffled up "Don't Stand So Close To Me" from The Police's 1980 album Zenyatta Mondatta.
In fairness it was Sting's nod to Lolita and he even referenced "the book by Nabokov" in the lyrics. But the rest of the song would definitely raise serious eyebrows if it was ever admitted into evidence at the Royal Commission into Child Abuse.
"Young teacher, the subject of schoolgirl fantasy / She wants him so badly / Knows what she wants to be ... Temptation, frustration / So bad it makes him cry / Wet bus stop, she's waiting / His car is warm and dry."
The insinuation is pretty clear. But Sting's teacher is the one who has to bravely beg off the evil teenage temptress: "Please don't stand so close to me!" Like John Lennon, Sting is indulging in some old-fashioned victim blaming.
Here's a better lyric; keep driving right past the fricken bus stop, alert the principal, the Department of Education and the relevant authorities and let them know this student is exhibiting disturbing, overtly sexual behaviour towards a member of staff. Who knows? The poor girl may well be experiencing some serious issues at home.
Aaaaanyways. The next track to shuffle on was Meatloaf's "Two Out of Three Ain't Bad":
I want you / I need you / But there ain’t no way I’m ever gonna love you.
Now don’t be sad / Cos two out of three ain’t bad.
Translation: "I'm horny, pet. Get your kit off and put out luv. Right, thanks - now bugger off because I don't love you. I will never respect you. And don't go feeling sorry for yourself because, because ... I got a shag!"
I can't help wondering when Mr Loaf sat down to write this ballad whether he thought, "Hmmm. Is there a chance this might come off a little bit rapey?"
Finally, as I pulled into South Nowra, Apple Inc. dished up one last salute to the sisterhood - Bruce Springsteen's 1985 hit "I'm On Fire":
"Hey little girl, is your daddy home? / Did he go away and leave you all alone? / I got a bad desire, I’m on fire / Tell me now baby is he good to you? / Can he do to you the things that I do? / I can take you higher / I’m on fire."
Sorry Bruce but you're not on fire, you should be on parole and be forced to tell all of your neighbours what you said.
Who sings about a little girl like that? "Is your daddy home?" WTF? If you pull that shit around my daughters pal you're really gonna wish you were born to run.
I shuffled classical music on the drive home.