As I sipped coffee at my desk this morning, making puns and listening to the Kendrick Lamar album on Spotify, I thought about the lyrics, and I couldn't help but wonder: if he can "fuck the world for 72 hours," why can't I? Has Samantha tried it? And after all, are rappers and writers really so different? Are men and women?
Well, what actually happened is that I couldn't help but be interrupted by a strange new Spotify promo for Sex and the City's teen spinoff The Carrie Diaries, offering to take any playlist of mine and give it an "80's makeover" in order to "take a walk down memory lane (in acid washed jeans)". Uh, yes, exactly what a too-old-and-cranky-for-the-demographic listener wanted when belatedly listening to a specific album by a new-ish artist. How did the elaborate sales algorithm that matched this ad to my profile ever guess?
Rather than throwing myself off of a bridge at yet another odd sign of what happens when capitalism goes utterly unchecked, I decided to give it a whirl, plugging in our very own Brooklyn in 2012 Crash Course playlist. Isn't it about time Brooklyn got the Sex and the City treatment? Well, please don't answer that, but anyway, it didn't turn out nearly as bad as I had expected. The elaborate musical algorithm actually made some interesting choices, like pairing the Babies with the Waitresses, or Sleigh Bells with Toni Basil. Fair enough. That said, no one got out of this totally unscathed. Behold, a few of "Carrie's" more bizarre takes on Brooklyn bands:
Angel Haze's dark, belligerent "Werkin Girls" morphed into always-peppy "Cool it Now:"
The Men's mellow, bittersweet single "Candy" got swapped out for Starship:
And "Cali in a Cup" somehow becomes "Livin' on a Prayer:"
I guess the only real lesson here is that in addition to making over the entirety of Manhattan in its own image, the Sex and the City behemoth is now claiming an entire decade to itself. Which I suppose is plausible enough in this day and age, given, say, Buzzfeed's (possibly contractual) chokehold on the brand that is... the 90's. Carry on, everybody. And I promise that was not supposed to be some kind of pun.
Follow Virginia K. Smith on Twitter @vksmith.