Today marks another important anniversary1 in my life—I don’t think it will ever become unimportant, but its relevance has faded significantly over the past 10 years or so. The song hints at why.
I freely admit that this is the only song by Gotye (aka Wally De Backer) I’ve heard to date (I’ll be remedying that later today). “Somebody That I Used to Know” was an unexpected monster hit for him; it’s off his third album, Making Mirrors, which was released in 2011.
I’ve chosen to feature a live version of the song because the vocals aren’t as lost in the mix as in the studio version.
Just in case anyone reading along hasn’t seen it yet, the music video for “Somebody That I Used to Know” is beautifully done and worth seeing.
The only other thing I’ll say about the personal reasons for this choice is that I of course understand that the person referenced may see some parallel lines in the song and our relationship; I can also attest with equal confidence that the main point of my featuring the song will be lost on them.
Nearly every piece of the song is pop perfection: catchy instrumental sounds and a bouncy melody; lyrics that many people can relate to (and did worldwide); slowly building and subsiding energy; and a luscious performance by guest vocalist Kimbra, who matches Gotye’s energy very well. I was fully hooked long before I watched the music video.
In short, the piece is art. That’s why I grew frustrated and then angry as I came across multiple “what happened to Gotye?” and “Gotye, the one-hit wonder” videos while looking for a suitable version of “Somebody That I Used to Know” to feature today. Let me be clear: I don’t know Mr. De Backer personally and likely never will; the chances of him finding this essay, then reading it, and then deciding to respond in some way are minuscule; and this is not a written equivalent of “Leave Britney alone!” It’s a defense of musical art against its relentless commodification, and unreasonable demands put on artists.
I’ve never liked the “one-hit wonder” label, implying as it does that mass popularity is the most important metric for valuing a song. So many things have to align these days for a musician to break through and become popular in a region, let alone nationally or worldwide. And it’s even more rare for a piece to become discovered and get acclaim years after its release, unless it’s a rare or newly discovered work from a beloved artist. Given the challenges of the artistic process—and often, the personal cost of success—why is it reasonable to expect everyone who’s achieved one hit to pursue more? Unless a musician has as their primary goal to earn as much money as possible, it’s rare for them to be happy with a Garfield-style production process.
In any event, a creator owes their fans nothing in terms of future production. For me, one of the best things about being a fan is buying a new album and seeing what new and interesting things the artist(s) have created. If I wanted to hear something familiar, I’d listen to the old album… and how boring would it be for a musician brimming with creativity to try to mirror the same sound album after album, year after year? Art comes from looking ahead, stretching one’s abilities, testing new things.
Some years ago, I used to occasionally receive CDs and digital files from musicians who wanted to share their music with me, as I’d sometimes write reviews. Some weren’t to my taste, but not one was objectively bad. All those people had musical skill at composition; instrumentation; performance; and recording their original pieces. They created their own unique art, which is valuable for that reason alone. I’ve searched online for traces of many of them, because I’d like to be able to feature some here. I’ve only found a few songs from one band, none of which is from its first album, which is the one I like best. They’ve been through a few lineup changes over the years, so it’s very unlikely any of those great tunes will get posted online now.
I dislike that money has become king in the music industry; it’s abhorrent that this country exalts turning loved hobbies into side hustles. So many artists have crashed hard after getting a taste of success in the music industry, which says a lot about that process.
One of the best amateur torch song singers I’ve heard à la Billie Holiday and Ella Fitzgerald is Latvian or Estonian; she was a teenager when I heard her belt out an American song so beautifully I could have sworn I was in an American jazz club listening to her (we were in Eastern Europe). I learned that in several Eastern European countries, singing is a very popular hobby that also helped preserve their culture during the Soviet years. In my limited experience, it was more rare for a young person to not sing at least moderately well.
They create their art for the love of it and generously share it for the same reason. Yes, some become successful professional musicians, but it seems to me that the music holds more value than the success does. From the little I’ve read about Mr. De Backer’s life so far, I think he groks all this, and is content with the financial security his hit single has brought him; he can pursue what interests him musically. That’s the way I’d like it to be here.
Hahahaha … I didn’t expect all this to come flowing out today. The only thing missing is: get off of my lawn!
Don’t fret: I won’t be marking each one every year. For this first year, though, it’s feeling good to observe each; for the negative ones, it’s helping me let go.
Delightful rant and I heartily agree! For what it's worth, this is the first time I'd heard the original version of this song, which I knew only from a cover by Pentatonix: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hOKuAigsrec (much as I like the latter band, I love the instrumentation and vocals on the original).