When my cantankerous old grandmother learned that I was finally getting paid to travel and play music, she wanted to know one thing: was my act “like Madonna?”

 

“No” I told her, “It’s more like Chuck Berry.”

She was relieved (probably because she’d never heard of Chuck Berry). “Good,” she said, “because that Madonna’s a SLUT.”

Oh Granny, gawd rest your soul, if you thought Madonna was a ho-bag what would you have made of Britney and Xtina? And, if you thought Britney and Xtina were hose monsters, what could possibly have prepared you for Girlicious?

If you haven’t been keeping up with the ghastly contents of reality programming lately, Girlicious is the T&A Frankenstein created by choreographer/entertainment impresario/Pussycay Dolls creator Robin Antin. The result of a ten-episode “search for the most talented girls in America,” the act consists of four teenage bimbos who sing (with the assistance of studio magic) and undulate in time while their clothes fall off.

The description on the “group’s” website probably explains it best:

“They ooze a sex appeal so innocent, it hurts. They are more than just delicious, they are Girlicious. And they are going to make you squirm with delight.”

They’ll make you squirm alright.

Check out this video for their new track “Stupid Shit.” If you want to skip all the histrionics and get straight to the money shot, fast forward to about 1:55 – that’s when the Catholic schoolgirl uniforms come flying off.

The most humiliating thing about Girlicious is that some of the biggest names in the music industry are behind it. Executive produced by Antin, Geffen Records chairman Ron Fair and legendary record exec Jimmy Iovine (Interscope Geffen A&M Records), this teenage poontang cash machine speaks volumes in terms of the future of popular music/entertainment.

I have a friend that won’t even let her daughter play with Bratz dolls because she thinks they’re “too provocative.” What’s she gonna do when she hears “Stupid Shit” creeping from under the bedroom door?

I like naked people as much as the next guy (or “gal,” as the case may be), there’s no doubt about it. But I know where to go when, as an adult, I want to see bobbing naked flesh – and it ain’t to Bob Dylan’s house.

I try to picture my grandmother watching a Girlicious video, and imagine the extraordinary language she would conjure to express her feelings about it. It would probably go something like this: #$%&*  F%$#  U*%$#$%^* SLUTS!!!

I’m with ya, Grams.

Wendy Case is the MOLI View's contributing editor for Arts & Entertainment.