It’s official: pop has run out of songs. Whilst cocking an ear at the new Cher single “I Hope You Find It” earlier this week, I thought to myself “this seems awfully familiar.” And barely thirty seconds of research revealed that, yes it was familiar. It’s an old Miley Cyrus tune from 2010, and a pretty terrible one at that.
It’s one of those awful Anthems of Low Self Esteem where a spurned lover lingers by a rain-dappled window looking miserably hopeful. I was about to get all grumpy at this horrific example of pop eating itself, but then I realised it gave me a chance to bang on once again about two – actually three – of my favourite ladies.
Miley, of course, is on an upward trajectory at the moment, while only a fool would argue that Cher isn’t sliding, albeit loudly, towards the Shady Pines retirement home of her career. She has in fact become the batty old lady who sits on her porch swing shouting obscenities at provocatively dressed young people who cross her line of vision.
With pleasing symmetry, much of her recent vitriol has been directed at none other than Miley: “She can’t dance, her body looked like hell, the song wasn’t great, one cheek was hanging out. And chick, don’t stick your tongue out if it’s coated.”