Robin Thicke gives the impression of some form of musical Terminator, the T-800 of Testosterone Pop, if you will. However, instead of going back in time to kill Sarah Connors, he’s returned with the aim of singularly, comprehensively, killing off the idea of the Modern Man, with his reinforced stereotype of The Man as sexual entity, procreator, devoid of anything beyond going ‘corrrrr look at them’ at the breasts that bounce past him in the ‘Blurred Lines’ video and hiding his soul behind a large pair of sunglasses.
Caught somewhere in the middle of looking like Danny From The Voice Formerly Known As Danny From The Script and a physical embodiment of a man you would not get along with, Thicke is an outsider. His international breakthrough comes at the age of 36, which makes you wonder what he’s been doing since he left school about 20 years ago. If you visit Wikipedia (other free online encyclopedias are availa- oh.), you can find out all about his past releases. But that isn’t fun. We all know he has spent the last 20 years, how Blurred Lines and Robin Thicke as we know and love him, came about. He was in his cave, reading page 3 of the sun, as is his daily routine, when his ears pricked as they heard the sounds of a protest against page 3.
He looked up, scrunched the paper up in his hand and cried: “noooooooooo”. Apparently the sound of Thicke’s anguish could be heard for miles. Thicke vowed from that day on that he would seek to nullify, nay reverse, the progression of equality of the sexes in the Entertainment Formerly Known As The Music Industry and write a song that would bury this “bloody woman rubbish stuff nonsense” (citation needed) forever and ever thankyouverymuch.
The funny thing about Thicke is how out of place he looks. When Miley Cyrus was busy ‘twerking’ at him during the VMAs (i thought Jamie Oliver got Twerks banned?) he tried to enjoy it and be all manly, but really it was obvious – in his head he was thinking oh ‘god, oh christ what shall I do, I’ve got a reputation to remain loyal to. Must. Grind.’ As for the suggestive eye-browing, well, Robbie Williams has had that covered for years now, come on mate.
At least he’s doing a favour to all the Robins in the world. We need a famous Robin, considering that, as it stands, Robins with any celebrity credentials currently extend to ‘Batmans Mate’, and ‘The Robin’ – we need more Robins. But what we really want is for Robin Thicke to just give this pseudo-Alpha Maleness a break for a bit before he cracks and we find him crying to ‘I Want Love’ by Elton John and watching Mean Girls with his besties while destroying a box of Milk Tray.
Here’s hoping Little Robin Grope-Breast finds love soon.