So I woke up at four in the morning, as I usually do.
As is the norm, I checked for emails, then flipped open my twitter and newspapers. There was The Herald up to its usual bullshit, trying to shoehorn MPs into a scandal of their own making. Just another day in Zimbabwe, then.
But hark! What clarion call doth the magical intertubes ring out? Jennifer Lopez has a new music video? Featuring Iggy Azalea, O She of the Plastic Cakes (well, the other one)? And it is titled “Booty“?
Well, for research purposes, I obviously had to head over to the YooToob and check it out for myself. And this is what I saw.
Actually, instead of telling you what this video is, I’ll start by telling you what it’s not.
This is not piña coladas and getting caught in the rain. There are no planes, trains and automobiles. This video does not have J Lo in a drop-top, hair streaming behind her, rolling down a palm-lined Miami boulevard on a summer’s day.
There is no night-time shot cruising down the Strip, Vegas lights brightly mirrored on a glossy black SUV. This video has no helicopter shots of a speedboat, which kinda surprised me for a Hype Williams show. There isn’t even a single swimming pool in sight.
There is no black limo or Rolls Royce pulling up to the obligatory private jet, a music video staple now appropriated by Nigerian “artists” in particular, and Africans in general.
There isn’t even a group dancing shot, preferably on a busy street or in a traffic jam; I know, right? A J Lo video with no “break it down” and a group jive?
There is no alcohol of any kind, or an indication that these two classy ladies are anywhere near a nightclub populated by homogeneously attractive, racially diverse people all dancing like everyone can’t wait to rip everyone else’s (minimal) clothing off.
No, this is definitely not that.
This is a visibly ageing J Lo trying very hard to prove how fit she still is. It is three minutes of Jennifer flexing and stretching, stretching and flexing. This is ol’ mami doing struggle-twerks to a strange, up-tempo beat that doesn’t know if it’s EDM or salsa-infused reggae.
This is Iggy Azalea (not her real name), who is six foot of vanilla hailing from deepest, whitest Mullumbimby in New South Wales *, Australia, shaking her obviously fake struggle cakes, and mouthing off in what I can only surmise to be a Kim Jones-marries-Misdemeanour-and-raises-an-orphan-in-Atlanta patois. While violently, meaninglessly jerking her waist around and trying to look “sexy”.
This video kind of had an aspirational “Beautiful Liar” quality to it, including a Shakira-doing-the-snake backshot which (obviously) failed miserably.
In conclusion, for a song named booty, it kinda sticks to the overarching theme. Booty by the window, booty by the wall. Want some booty under a shower? There you go. Here’s some bonus oil-covered booty (inevitably).
J Lo dance break! A pause, a pose, a (rather unnecessary and confusing) cigarette and now we have floor booty.
So. The video called booty is about, you guessed it, asses. Asses shaking. Vigorously. And that’s about it, really.
* Mullumbimby has also produced a beatboxer, which kind of makes you wonder what the local kids get up to down there.