Songs in English

And I watch music videos on YouTube. Last week I saw the new Billie Eilish video, which is a lot different from the last Billie Eilish video I wrote about:

I've been informed by various headlines that people are upset Eilish wants to show off her body and look glamorous after being known for looking rebelliously frumpy. Enough headlines have informed me of people's complaints to make me wonder if anyone's actually complaining at all. I'm certainly not. She seems to be channelling Jessica Rabbit with this video and song which basically seems to be a modern "Why Don't You Do Right?" The message conveyed is, "Look at these marvellous breasts you can't touch because you're a loser." And she has a team of girls with her seemingly cast for bust size to back her up. This video pleases me. I am pleased.

I've also been watching videos recommended to me by students, including the new video from BTS:

That video already has over 314 million views for something that's essentially New Kids on the Block all over again. It's not my cup of tea but I'm happy the students are pleased. What interests me is that the song is entirely English, possibly a reflection of the band's runaway success in the U.S. How often do American bands write songs in foreign languages when they become popular in other countries? I can't imagine Billie Eilish writing a song in Mandarin (though I have no idea if she's popular in China). The U.S. has been massively in debt to Japan and China for years but still, as I can obviously attest to, everyone's trying to speak English. I find myself wondering if the language has an intrinsic value. I'm aware of how differently thoughts are organised in Asian languages. Many assume that the continued proliferation of English is only a legacy of British and American tyranny but I'm not so sure. Maybe I'm biased because I love English so much.

Twitter Sonnet #1450

The cable nose retrieved the deepest sand.
And now the learning starts with noodle guns.
We built the arm to rightly end the hand.
Our masters baked the butter deep in buns.
The bottle saved a letter pack with sauce.
Remembered thoughts were wet with inky rain.
He changed a word when years promote a boss.
The restless crew was pink from daily strain.
Divided months became important seeds.
Referring noodle cups we ate the phone.
Behind the ducks we watched the gentle reeds.
Beneath the bark and leaves we find a bone.
The painted rope has slipped from colour space.
Behind the door there waits a stranger's face.