It’s Just Mimi or Why It’s Not Wrong To Untwist Your Panties And Love "Obsessed"

Though I never thought I’d find myself in this position, I feel it is my duty–there’s been a rift in the blogosphere, and you’re either loving MiMi Carey‘s “Obsessed” or sippin’ on the haterade.

Now I’m no proponent of the Auto-Tune trend (even if every single one of my artists abuse it), but if there’s something that burns me up more than a robot on my radio, it’s when the blogosphere gets butthurt about ONE. SINGLE. For God’s sake, have we learned nothing? Remember the hideous backlash against Kylie Minogue‘s “2 Hearts,” anyone? Because I do.

Perhaps more importantly though, it seems to me that Carey clearly wants to sing songs in this style. This isn’t a Hard Candy botch job reeking of relevancy issues so hard you could faintly hear The Queen pondering the thought “Do you think the kids will like this?” behind the music. Mariah has been on this faux-ghetto, semi-guilt-ridden pleasures kick for a while now. And why shouldn’t she be? (And, not to be mean, but doesn’t that sound fit in nicely with the Shopped-to-death promo photos she’s taken since 2006’s Emancipation?)

I’m making a stand against the overdramatics who have consistently thrown their hands up in mourning of the music industry anytime an artist decides to do something different. And yes, that includes trend-hopping and pandering to the Top 40. Because, lest we forget, it wasn’t so long ago that our own Titans of Pop rode the same musical waves in the yesteryear. That “selling out” moment, that desire to include the new production technique never really changed–the desired sound has.

Besides, you just know that if broke out another “Heartbreaker,” the critics would come crawling out of the woodwork to shout “SAMEY! She’s unoriginal. She’s over.” I have no doubt that MiMi will, at long last, return to those “glory days” of actual sanging, but who cares if she has a little fun along the way?

“Obsessed” is a hot, guilt-ridden stormer of a track, and I look forward to singing along in a silly voice when it blows up on the radio until I hate it.

Now get up out of my George Foreman.

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