Much has been made of Robin Thicke’s indifferent album sales figures, hundreds
in this country
as opposed to hundreds of thousands for his last effort. We all love a bit of schadenfreude
but the sheer quantity of glee could easily be pronounced professional trolling
(by proxy?).
Haters gonna hate, it’s easier to deflect the animosity when you’re riding a wave of success, somewhat harder when you’re in free-fall. Not that many should shed tears for him, the likely earnings from ‘that song’ and subsequent album would keep him off-the-streets for a considerable period of time. He earned, experienced and probably enjoyed his fifteen minutes but, like most acts, it will always lead him to yearn for more.
The hubris that infects a lot of successful artists led him to believe that he could interest his newly acquired audience in an entire album dedicated to the break-up of his marriage. Turns out he couldn’t. What might have been a good ploy for a land-grab, following up a huge album so quickly could’ve capitalised on his success, instead it has turned into the current story of popular music – having a big hit doesn’t mean you have fans.
Politically-correct commentators seem keen to attribute his
downfall to the backlash against the divisive ‘Blurred Lines’ and its
borderline-‘rapey’ lyrics and dated misogynistic video but this is unlikely to
be the case. The backlash started early and did nothing to diminish the vast
sales of that mega-track or its accompanying album. If anything they contributed to its all-encompassing
vastness. The well-deserved criticism also seems to have done little harm to
the global domination of song-collaborator Pharrell yet Thicke gets to wear it
like a crown of thorns.
Haters gonna hate, it’s easier to deflect the animosity when you’re riding a wave of success, somewhat harder when you’re in free-fall. Not that many should shed tears for him, the likely earnings from ‘that song’ and subsequent album would keep him off-the-streets for a considerable period of time. He earned, experienced and probably enjoyed his fifteen minutes but, like most acts, it will always lead him to yearn for more.
The hubris that infects a lot of successful artists led him to believe that he could interest his newly acquired audience in an entire album dedicated to the break-up of his marriage. Turns out he couldn’t. What might have been a good ploy for a land-grab, following up a huge album so quickly could’ve capitalised on his success, instead it has turned into the current story of popular music – having a big hit doesn’t mean you have fans.
The argument is that a lot of people liked Blurred Lines and
didn’t like Robin. Some of them clearly liked that song enough to warrant
buying the album to see if there were any more like it. This alone is the
reason why albums will probably always exist.
People persist in the theory that music fans are all about single-tracks and
playlists but then an album featuring ‘one song’ sells multi-millions and seems
to disprove that.
Robin Thicke spent many years trying to build an audience
and finally found it by playing to the crowd, hitting the
lowest-common-denominator with a ‘provocative’ video. Crowds have their own
mentality, acting as they do en masse and often on impulse. A crowd also
attracts a fair share of agitators keen to ridicule the populist. In an ideal
world your best option would be not to give them any ammunition. That advice clearly didn’t penetrate Robin’s world but then it
can be difficult to tell successful artists how to behave, that’s the kind of guidance
that normally earns you a P45.
Thicke now needs to prove he’s resilient, that he has skin
that (almost) matches his surname. He could grow a sense of humour to rival
James Blunt. He could make a silent album for insomniacs or he could get
back to the grindstone and try to make better music. Failing that I hope he’s
still got Pharrell on speed-dial.
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