Songs: “Makeba” by Jain, “Home” by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros, “Finance” by Boni
Before anyone starts vehemently bemoaning how TikTok- currently the world’s most popular social media platform- is a Chinese Communist spy tool liquefying the brains of Gen Z, let’s get two things straight. First: you’ve heard this unique, lively gem before (and may have even watched the dazzling graphics in the original video.) Second: if not for those gosh darn young’uns, you may not have heard this long-buried 2016 French pop hit about a South African singer and human rights activist. Which would be an abject loss on your part.
The Internet has hyped and boosted artists for decades. Justin Bieber got his big break via YouTube and audio streaming service SoundCloud launched its own gritty lo-fi emo-rap genre with contributions from Juice WRLD and Lil’ Peep (rest easy, gentlemen.) Each story pretty much went the same way: get discovered, sign with label, record material that was inescapable for a couple months until the next great thing came along, etc. But what’s new with TikTok is the popularity of songs based on users’ ability to interact with the music via their own videos. “Makeba” is a magically whimsical, bouncy composition, but if TikTok hadn’t given it legs (with the help of a Bill Hader video), there’s zero chance it would have received worldwide acclaim. It was the second single from the debut album of a then-unknown French singer-songwriter who first caught the eye of a producer with her MySpace tracks; her first single, “Come,” was far more commercially successful. “Makeba” showcased Jain’s diversity and creativity, but it felt like just that- a proof point, an afterthought- rather than a serious piece in its own right.
An even older and far more obscure song to experience a recent TikTok resurrection: “Home” by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros. It’s a charming and genuinely heartfelt duet, but even for indie country-folk, this band was out there. Formed in 2009, the crux of the group revolved around a “messianic” character named Edward Sharpe who- according to their lead singer- was “sent down to Earth to kinda heal and save mankind, but he kept getting distracted by girls and falling in love.” Their large ever-rotating lineup looked less like a band and more like a gang of pleasantly sunbaked barefoot hippies with trumpets, fedoras, tambourines, and polka-dot dresses. “Home” wasn’t released on a major label and its one record-industry achievement was ranking #73 on an Australian radio station’s Best of the Decade list. Unless you went to a liberal arts college in the Southern Appalachians around that time (like little Musette), you might have missed these folks completely.
“Home” wasn’t completely relegated to the dustbin of yesteryear- it appeared in a handful of commercials and TV shows throughout the 2010s- but it didn’t gain widespread popularity until 2020. That’s when TikTok discovered a 2015 cover by English musician Tom Rosenthal, recorded under the pseudonym “Edith Whiskers.” In keeping with Edward Sharpe’s marvelously strange aesthetic, Rosenthal created a fictitious identity for Whiskers, described as an older woman who “enjoys long hot baths, a spot of beekeeping and the occasional bike ride.” The Rosenthal version has been certified silver in the UK and used in several hundred thousand videos; meanwhile, the original has 195 million YouTube views (180 million more than their second-most popular track, a sprawling six-minute opus called “40 Day Dream” that’s definitely worth a listen.)
But as TikTok recently proved, sometimes you don’t even need a label, a band, a studio, or even a full composition to go viral. (Or, as the more cynical elders among us would darkly snicker, any kind of discernible talent.) Case in point: 24-year-old TikToker Megan Boni, posting under the moniker @girl_on_couch, shared a video mocking the dating scene in a nasal sing-song tone. Her sarcastic a-capella lines- which barely clocked in at 20 seconds- were set to a backing tune by London EDM ingenues Billen Ted and then remixed by David Guetta (arguably the world’s most pre-eminent DJ.) Although Boni graciously declined offers from record labels to make her a pop star, she did sign a one-off deal with Capitol to license her vocals for “Man in Finance”- and then quit her corporate marketing job. Can’t say most people wouldn’t do the same!
The way that our species experiences music hasn’t really changed with the advent of 24/7 social media. From prehistoric cavemen dancing in a sacred circle to the rhythm of skin drums and bone flutes, to the plucking of ancient split-gourd banjos of West Africa, to the soaring polyphony of medieval European choirs, to the flirtatious gaiety of 20s flappers whirling the night away in jazz clubs, we’ve always both listened and moved to sound. TikTok is no different- it’s just recorded for the whole world.
What has changed is how we engage with songs and what we value or seek out in a composition. My former coworker’s nine-year-old daughter enjoys watching dance clips on TikTok that are all invariably 30 seconds long with some modern pop hit subtly tracking in the background. When I was that age, my friends and I listened to Mariah Carey’s Daydream on cassette and marveled at her ability to hit the high notes all the way into the whistle register. Would my colleague’s child set a choreographed routine to “Always Be My Baby?” No, because Mariah’s vocals are too distracting and steal the attention away from the subject of the video. But the steady, simple bounce of “Makeba”? Absolutely.
Hey hey! Thanks for visiting- your presence is warmly welcomed. Please correct me if I accidentally got something wrong. If there are any songs, artists, or genres you’d love to learn more about, I’m always down for recommendations! This blog is free to read (and always will be) due to a fair amount of academic traffic, but you can always buy me a coffee (aka put a tip in my jar) if you enjoyed this article.
