![]() ![]() ![]() Or as Miley didn’t put it: “Došla sam u ovo party, vreme da bih twerkala.” As a result, in the absence of sufficient cultural protections like France’s radio quota for French-language music, local bands singing in a country’s native language or even in English soon find they can barely get mainstream radio airplay because stations are too busy promoting the latest Katy Perry single on hot rotation. Like it or not, Anglo-American pop music is our global sonic wallpaper – and I choose that word deliberately, in that it’s bland, uniform, and quite literally wallpapers over domestic music scenes by virtue of its greater marketing budget combined with cultural cringe, the widespread phenomenon of people in westernized countries (and those in the process of westernization) looking down on their own culture as parochial and uncool while embracing the newly imported, superimposed culture of the colonizer. Partying in a huge beer tent in Germany in which thousands of people are swaying not to oompah music but to a band playing Robbie Williams covers: All things I’ve experienced in the past decade, and all things that rankle me. Dining in a restaurant in rural eastern Slovakia where Lily Allen is being piped in over the speakers. Driving through a remote Austrian Alpine valley, turning on the radio and hearing 50 Cent. ![]()
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