The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
b-side
Thursday, April 11, 2019 — 6B
MUSIC VIDEO REVIEW: ‘COOL’
Even the sweet embrace
of nostalgia can’t save the
cringe-inducing
mess
of
the Jonas Brothers’s latest
music video, “Cool.”
As a product of Disney
Channel’s
proclaimed
“Golden Age,” I felt an
obligation to join the Jonas
Brothers’s comeback party.
Maturity be damned — I’d
be lying to myself if I said
I wasn’t a tiny bit excited
to hear of the trumpeted
return of childhood idols.
Unfortunately,
“Cool”
is
everything one would expect
it to be when blind optimism
is thrown away: boring.
In fact, not only is it boring,
but it’s unoriginal, awkward
and (again) vividly cringey.
The video is uncomfortable
and
semi-heartbreaking
for anyone with even the
lowest
expectations.
It’s
just plain bad. That’s not to
say they didn’t try — in fact,
it’s painfully apparent just
how hard the brothers tried
to be “cool.” Sadly for them,
a bad mustache (like, ew,
Joe), name-dropping actual
talents (like James Dean)
and singing “Dammit, I’m
so cool” (please, calm down)
can’t do much when you’re
already beyond saving.
In the video the three
Jonas
Brothers
—
Nick,
Joe and Kevin — play a
hired boy-band at a skeezy
beachside hotel, set in an
ambiguously
vintage
era.
The majority of the video
spotlights Nick — most likely
a nod to his recent rapid rise
in popularity. It seems the
reign of Joe Jonas as the fan
favorite is over. The brothers
(very ambitiously) compare
themselves to James Dean,
which
instead
of
suave
comes off as a biting wince.
Nick’s awkward lip syncing
is an inescapable horror.
Watching him strut on the
screen and repeatedly do
fist pumps is a performance
no one ever wanted, or ever
will. There’s a lingering
irony, too, as the lyrics
“Cool” repeat over and over
while the brothers grow
considerably less cool with
every second.
And, beyond all these
pitfalls,
there
looms
a
far bigger, more painful
misstep: Kevin. Or rather,
the lack of Kevin. Once
again, the third brother
is forgotten. It’s like that
awful mix of amusement
and
sharp
second-hand
embarrassment
when
in
the film “Home Alone,” the
family realizes they forgot
their son.
So,
save
yourself
the
pain,
and
skip
“Cool”
this week, no matter how
dedicated a fan you may
be. Instead, remember the
Jonas Brothers in their ’00s
boy-band glory. It’s better
to mourn the memory than
suffer through their skin-
crawling grab to reclaim lost
fame.
—
Madeleine
Gannon,
Daily Arts Writer
UMG, DOWNTOWN MUSIC PUBLISHING
I’ve always found idiomatic
language to be more useful
and fun than direct speech. My
grandmother, when I would
visit her as a kid, would often
announce that she was “going
to spend a penny” after dinner,
meaning that she was excusing
herself to the restroom. I never
understood what she meant
when I was really young, but
after I grew up, and developed
my own code of idioms and
phrases, I asked my mom.
My
grandmother
is
from
Kent, England, where public
restrooms formerly had coin-
operated locks. In order to use
them, one had to drop a penny
into the slot. My mother told
me that idiomatic and rhyming
language was commonly used
in that area of England, where
Cockney rhyming slang took
hold. Once, my grandmother
used the phrase “apples and
pears” for “stairs.” I never
really understood that one.
My father, an N.J. native,
has his own set of idioms and
phrases. He and I like to make
fun of common business jargon,
like “to put something on the
parking lot,” meaning to save
the idea for a later day, or “to
put a pin in something,” which
means about the same. Growing
up, I was told to “hold my
horses” when I was impatient
and to “take my lumps” when
something got the better of me.
When I got a little heady, he
would tell me to stop being a
“smartmouth” when I was out
of turn, or to “stop busting his
chops” when I was in the right.
As they were such a mystery
in earlier parts of my life,
idioms
became
increasingly
interesting
modes
of
communication, carrying their
own histories and contexts.
They reveal as much about the
speaker’s thoughts and feelings
as
they
do
the
speaker’s
personal background. I’ve never
heard anyone in the United
States utter the phrase “spend
a penny”; if anything, I’ve
heard the crude “take a piss”
from guys my age. By the same
token, I’ve only heard business
jargon
from
my
parents,
corporate presentations and
Ross students. (Language can
be an insidious tool.) Each
idiom carries a history and
a basic truth, and those that
we employ tell others about
where we come from. One of
my favorites, one that I return
to time and time again, is the
phrase “two is company, three
is a crowd.”
The phrase finds its origins
in the notion that the symmetry
and parity of two is “right.”
Between two things, there is
a clear thing-one-thing-two,
self-and-other relationship, but
as soon as you introduce a third
object, the system grows in
complexity. No longer are you
dealing with one relationship
— you’re dealing with three,
unique relationships, between
one and two, two and three and
one and three. The paragon of
this idiom is the love triangle,
depicted in countless works
of art and culture: Betty,
Veronica and Archie in “Archie
Comics”; Bella, Edward and
Jacob in “The Twilight Saga”;
Katniss, Peeta and Gale in
“The Hunger Games”; I could
go on. A relationship between
two people is cool, I guess, but
you want to know what’s really
cool? Making things complex
by adding another player.
It’s
easy
to
have
a
presumptive harmony when
you have one or two things: The
beauty of singularity and unity
of one object, the symmetry
or diametric opposition of two
things. But with three, it’s
easy to unbalance. How far
apart are these things? Which
two elements of the system
are closer, more alike, and
how does that affect the third
thing? There is a whole field
of mathematics devoted to the
relationship
between
three
points:
trigonometry.
Since
you’re reading the Arts section,
I’ll just give you the meat
and potatoes of the subject.
Trigonometry
reveals
that
there is a method to the madness
of the lengths and angles
between these three points.
Trigonometry can be applied
to countless subjects, and it’s
always funny to remember
that
locating
the
apparent
positions of stars in astronomy
is possible because of triangles.
In art, too, the tension of
three finds usefulness in the
“rule of thirds.” A centered
single object or two objects
in any relationship are boring
to the eye. Offsetting the
presumed harmony of unity or
symmetry makes the eye look a
little harder at a painting or a
photography. Perhaps there is
beauty in the tension of three.
Let’s return to the idiom,
though. Three is a crowd, sure,
as the chance for exclusion
and “a loser” always exists in
a love triangle, yet three is also
complex and beautiful. Within
three, there’s a productive
friction that leads to great
works of art and science —
the same friction produces
tension and hard feelings in
relationships. It’s easy to feel
behind the eight ball in love
and life (just look at the crazy
things
that
Bella,
Edward
and Jacob do competing for
one another’s affections), but
remember that two — er, three
— can play at that game.
Idiomatic uses of three
JACK BRANDON
Managing Arts Editor
B-SIDE: NEW MEDIA
‘Cool’
Jonas Brothers
UMG, Downtown
Music Publishing