Lady Antebellum’s song ‘Need You Now’ aka ‘Booty Call’ (what in the hell is this song about, anyway?)
I was in the liquor store the other day, and they had Z100 (or something similar) on the radio, and I was treated to Lady Antebellum’s song, ‘Need You Now,’ which I believe I heard earlier in the week at a grocery store. This time, I actually listened to the lyrics instead of immediately dismissing it for pop-country crap.
Don’t misunderstand; it is pop-country crap. But the lyrics take it to the next level. The first line of the chorus varies between the following:
It’s a quarter after one, I’m all alone and I need you now
It’s a quarter after one, I’m a little drunk and I need you now
Get that? Wow. First off, these lyrics just aren’t good poetry; it’s crap. Secondly, they seem to be romanticizing a booty call. Well done! You might say that, ‘Crash into me,’ by Dave Matthews Band has a similar theme, particularly when Matthews sings, “Hike up your skirt a little more, and show your world to me,” although when listening to the entire song, he seems to be romanticizing sex with someone he’s in a long term relationship with, given that he starts the song by referring to this person as the ball and chain. So if it’s the same idea, “Need you now,” is the worst possible version of, “Crash into me.” And I’m sorry, but there are no circumstances where you can romanticize a booty call. That’s why we call it a booty call instead of a romantic encounter.
Lets wrap it up by checking out that name: Lady Antebellum. In case you didn’t know, antebellum is latin for, ‘before the war,’ which makes sense, because this song may inspire you to raise an army and invade whatever country Lady Antebellum is from… oh really? Fuck! Again, don’t be mislead: this is not a solo artist, but instead, a trio of three people trying to ruin my life with their horrible music in the persons of Charles Kelley, Dave Haywood and Hilary Scott. So that means these lyrics presumably got through at least three people and everyone said, “These are fine.”
FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK! Poetry majors everywhere are weeping.