This article first appeared at upstart.

Assigning an artist to a particular genre can be a challenging task. Do Ke$ha’s drunken ramblings count as crunkcore, hip-hop or electropop? Should The Mars Volta be filed under psychedelic-rock, jazz-fusion or progressive-punk? Are Godspeed You! Black Emperor an embodiment of post-rock or should we just call them alternative? Thankfully, some musicians are a little easier to pigeonhole; Katy Perry for one.

If you were looking for a definition of ‘pop music’, Perry’s recently released second album, ‘Teenage Dream’, would be all you’d need to know. It’s a 40 minute trip through a sugary world of catchy choruses, up-tempo dance beats and barely-restrained sexual desire. The songs are short and sharp, produced and processed within an inch of their lives, and Perry’s vocals sound like they’ve been tweaked and tuned at every possible opportunity.

In fact, the entire album is one giant pop cliché; there’s the token party anthem, complete with a celebration of teenage booze culture (‘Last Friday Night (T.G.I.F)’), the predictable declaration of undying love (‘Hummingbird Heartbeat’) and, of course, the heartfelt piano ballad (‘Not Like the Movies’).

In many ways, this album encapsulates everything that’s wrong with popular music today. It’s a formulaic, over-produced and largely lifeless outing that does little to advance the state of music. The majority of the lyrics are bland, predictable or both and singing about the virtues of weekly intoxication is so 2008.

Strangely though, it’s still thoroughly listenable.

Thanks to strong support from commercial radio stations, dance-pop tracks like ‘California Gurls’ and ‘Teenage Dream’ are already firmly entrenched in the popular consciousness. But while hits like these will draw listeners to album, it’s the non-radio tracks that are likely to give ‘Teenage Dream’ some sort of longevity.

In ‘Pearl’ Perry recalls a time when she allowed herself to be controlled by the man in her life, meanwhile reassuring the listener that such a relationship isn’t all that conducive to personal growth. In ‘Circle the Drain’ Perry takes a break from sugar-sweet party anthems and delivers a fairly biting account of her ex’s seemingly-destructive drug habit. While a break-up song is hardly a novelty for a pop album there’s something refreshing about Perry’s change of pace here.

In fact, it’s the album’s darker, more thoughtful moments that really give ‘Teenage Dream’ substance. ‘Who Am I Living For?’ is probably the album’s strongest track due largely to its surprising, and refreshingly original references to the biblical figure of Esther. With lyrics like ‘It’s never easy to be chosen, never easy to be called, standing on the front line when the bombs start to fall’, this track is a far cry from the clichéd dance-pop that dominates the album.

Unfortunately, Perry’s foray into the world of thoughtful subject matter is short-lived. On ‘Peacock’ she delivers one of the most unconvincing attempts at subtlety in the history of popular music;

‘I wanna see your peacock, cock, cock,
Your peacock, cock.
Your peacock, cock, cock,
Your peacock.’

But lest the audience be confused by her attempted double entendre, Ms Perry makes it quite clear that she isn’t talking about brightly coloured birds;

‘Are you brave enough to let me see your peacock?
What you waiting for, it’s time for you to show it off.
Don’t be a shy kinda guy, I bet it’s beautiful,
Come on baby let me see, what you’re hiding underneath’.

‘Teenage Dream’ will not win any awards for its musicianship, its originality or its lyrical content but there are certainly worse things you could be listening to. This is about as ‘pop’ as pop music gets but if you’re prepared to listen to it as such then Perry’s brief departures from the pop-princess paradigm will come as a refreshing change.

The Verdict: 3/5

Once upon a time it was possible for professional athletes to ply their trade without having to deal with the stress of the modern media. It’s hard to imagine the ancient Olympians facing public scrutiny about their personal lives, for example. But nowadays, with the rise of the global media and a collective devotion to celebrity culture, being a professional athlete entails far more than simply being good at the sport in question. Just ask Michael Clark.

As attention on professional athletes has increased, so has an awareness that athletes need to be savvy when it comes to interacting with and participating in the media. Rather than allowing athletes to speak their minds, great care is now taken to promote good sportsmanship and maintain the reputation of the game in question. While a fight may well break out during an AFL match, for example, it is highly unlikely that the confrontation will continue off the ground, such is the desire to uphold the reputation of the game.

To this end sportsmen and –women are taught skills that will help them act appropriately when interacting with the media. For example, they are taught to be humble and not big-note themselves; they are taught to have respect for their opposition and for the game’s officials; and they are taught to take responsibility for their off-field actions.

While all this might sound fairly reasonable the reality is that it makes the whole process rather dull and predictable for the public. In his address at the conclusion of last year’s AFL grand final Geelong coach Mark ‘Bomber’ Thompson said the following;

‘Firstly to the St. Kilda footy club, footy sucks sometimes and you guys have had a fantastic year. You’ve done so much right and you’re one of the hardest teams to play against’.

An undoubtedly noble gesture, but also a rather predicable and unoriginal one. If only he had said something along these lines;

‘Firstly to the St. Kilda footy club, you only lost two games for the season and you finished two games clear on top of the ladder. You also outscored us in three quarters of today’s match and yet you still managed to lose the game. Good effort.’

Sure, it wouldn’t have made Mr. Thompson the most popular man in footy but at least he would have been the most original.

But more than making the whole process extremely predictable it would seem that the regulation of media interaction in the sporting world has reduced such interaction to a series of clichés.

An example of this can be seen when an AFL player is asked to assess his team’s finals chances. Rather than answering the question honestly the player will almost certainly revert to one of the great sporting clichés – ‘we’re just taking it one week at a time.’

Similarly, after a match-winning performance a player might well be asked to comment on his or her contribution. Rather than taking the opportunity to provide an accurate account of proceedings, the modern sportsperson will often reply ‘it was a great team effort’.

If the same player was on the losing side he might well be asked to explain why it was that his team lost. In this situation it is unlikely that he would call the opposition a pack of cheats, even if he had wanted to. The preferred response seems to be something along the lines of ‘we had our chances but let them slip away.’

There seems to be a cliché for every situation in sport and it’s not just the players that are getting in on the action. Sports commentators also seem to revel in language that is saturated with repetition and recurrence. Cricket commentators seem to be quite partial to the phrase ‘good line and length’, for example, while AFL commentators will often mention a courageous player’s ability to put his ‘body on the line’.

The final word today goes to The Australian columnist Chip Le Grand and his brilliant piece about clichés, jargon and the AFL. Hopefully someday I can write like this but until then I’ll just keep giving it 110% and taking it one week at a time…