Willow Smith, progeny of Will and Jada Pinkett, has arrived on the music scene faster than we can say “heart–shaped weave.” The neon–hued video for her single “Whip My Hair” has been making the requisite rounds on the blogosphere, dividing music fans along the way. This wouldn’t be big news, if not for one key fact — Willow is nine years old. Here, an impassioned Willow fan and a dedicated hater fight for their respective sides.
PUNTAL: Willow is fly!
A young Britney Spears spiced up the drab hallways of a Catholic high school with her belly–baring button–down and fuzzy pink hair ties all of 11 years ago. Counting down the seconds until the final bell rings, she taps her oxford on the desk in front of her as she waits to unleash her bubblegum pop on the world.
Sure, Willow Smith wasn't even born when the video for “…Baby One More Time” was released. That doesn’t matter. The nine–year–old has traded Spears’s schoolgirl shoes for knee–high Converses and swapped pigtails for a gravity–defying, heart–shaped weave — but her video is every bit as fun and ground–breaking as Britney's. Willow strides into an industrial lunchroom full of sad–looking students, and, paint–can boombox in hand, schools her classmates in the art of pre–teen swagger.
To be sure, “Whip My Hair” isn’t striving for lyrical depth or sonic sophistication; over a peppy, ringtone–rap beat, Willow wields her braids as weapons in the war against haters. The chorus is unapologetically repetitive, taking cues from Dem Franchize Boyz’s “I Think They Like Me” and Cali Swag District’s “Teach Me How To Dougie.” But it all works. The song is both plausible and age–appropriate for a nine–year–old to be singing, and the video is equal measures sassy and street. “Whip My Hair” is, to me, the perfect pop song for 2010.
The “Whip My Hair” video has gotten well over six million views on YouTube — and deservedly so. Willow brings an energy to the video that is virtually unrivaled in current pop music; she exudes youthful excitement from the top of her multicolored afro down to her rhinestone–encrusted fingernails. The video is elaborately choreographed and, despite a playground’s worth of dancers behind her, Willow manages to stand out. This is particularly true during a mid–song interlude, in which Willow leads a hard–hitting step routine. Throughout the video, it’s hard not to smile at her adorable attitude; you can tell she really wants to shake off those pesky haters. Alone in a white room, her pouts and poses are reminiscent of her father in his Fresh Prince days.
Willow detractors are particularly keen to point out her age as a reason to disregard her as an artist — why would a college student take a nine–year–old seriously? Because she’s awesome, that’s why. I have no qualms about loving such a talented pre–teen, knowing that I would never be able to produce a video of “Whip My Hair”’s quality. In fact, Willow’s achievements remind me how little I, as a 21–year–old, have accomplished; in addition to crafting a fantastic pop song, Willow Smith is encouraging me to step my game up.
– Lauren Lipsay
CONTRAPUNTAL: Because nine is just too young.
In his 1988 hit, “Parents Just Don’t Understand,” Will Smith tells the story of a trip to the mall with his family. After his mom buys him Zips instead of Adidas, he says, “Mom, what are you doing? You’re ruining my rep.” She says, “You’re only 16. You don’t have a rep yet.” It’s a specific, very real problem being presented in a relatable way.
There is nothing close to that in Willow Smith’s “Whip My Hair.” In fact, it’s as if Will Smith looked back on those lyrics and thought, “Now that I am a parent myself, and a man 20 years older than the kid who wrote those lyrics in 1988, I have to say, I was totally right in my thinking then and will do nothing now to teach my children about perspective.”
It’s tough to blame Willow. It’s not her fault she’s nine and her parents are movie stars. But maybe she’d be better off just living a normal life instead of trying to rush into being a famous singer. She’s in a position right now where she can’t really sing about her life — who wants to listen to a brag track from a very privileged pre–teen? And she can’t really sing about the average kid — that’s not her, and no one wants to hear about that either. So what she has to do is record an overly processed song with generic lyrics about swagger and haters.
While those lyrics would certainly be lazy coming from your everyday pop singer, they’re lazy and out of place when crooned by an elementary schooler. She sings, “Keep the party jumping,” referring to, presumably, a party that does not involve party hats and is not held at a bowling alley. She sings, “When they see me pull up, I whip it real hard.” Again, she’s nine years old, so her driver is probably the one who pulled up.
Since the backing track is pretty much run–of–the–mill, overly–processed dance music, it seems that part of the appeal of “Whip My Hair” is Willow’s risk–taking, fashionista persona. But it just doesn’t ring true because of her age. It feels like she's just a kid going through a phase, only with unlimited resources and access to the press. And it’s hard to buy into someone that age, with that background, needing to express that much supposed individuality — what life experiences in her few years led to a need to be so different?
There’s a baby who dances in the “Whip My Hair” video. The baby just bounces up and down, too young to recognize he or she is in a video. It’s great. Mostly because dancing babies are the best, but also it’s just nice to see something real in the midst of so much empty posturing.
– Ben Rosen
