The 40th Annual American Music Awards was held live at the Nokia Theatre last Sunday in Los Angeles, California. And singer Pink, singing her single “Try,” once again held us captive. Mostly with fear. The school-age gymnastics have obviously paid off for Pink. But it is the teenage angst-filled years of Pink’s not-so-perfect existence—the not-so-soft filling in the middle of songs like “Try”—that have made her fascinating.
Palatable.
When Pink takes to the wires and flies through the air for the sake of artistic expression, publicly the whole world oohs and aahs. Privately—and the world will never admit it—but words like “desperate,” “attention-seeking,” or “trying too hard” come to mind. We cringe, silently pleading, “Please, Pink, next time, could you spare us the theatrics?” But why?
Upon a closer look, why is simple. Consider Beyoncé. When Beyoncé exercises artistic license, she seems to always come up smelling like pink roses. One theory is that by the time Beyoncé performs a song, the fans have already heard the song or seen the video a million times. Trying to listen closely for meaning and the words is unnecessary. We know the words, know them all, and every beat of the music by the time of the performance. And because we have already snuggled up close as lovers to the lyrics, we can just relax and enjoy the snap-crackle-pop of her interpretation.
Comparatively, when Pink makes an appearance, most of us can only guess what song she will perform. Suddenly we realize she has planned some big over-the-top artistic performance piece. Then we get so caught up trying to decipher the words and marry them to the performance, we find it difficult to judge whether the artistic interpretation through gymnastics, dance, fire, and broken mirrors is even worth the extraordinary effort. Time slows down—seems to stand still—but not in a good way.
All that is remembered is Pink’s physicality, the androgyny, the costume, the set, the face paint, the distractions. Unfortunately, the song is forgotten. Her big beautiful singing voice, lost.
Negative reactions can, in part, be attributed to an overwhelming sense of fear that the artistic performances (slow as they are) will fail. That somehow the “song and dance,” already too long, like a bad explanation, has gotten too complicated. Fans are waiting for slips and falls with anticipation. Not like a personal injury lawyer, the paparazzi, or a dog panting for a crumb to fall from the table. But like a fretful parent, holding her breath.
Fans do not like this feeling.
While it takes big talent and big confidence to do what Pink does physically on the stage, you get the sense that Pink herself is only too graciously hoping—like a beggar—that we, the fans, will appreciate or even like it. Consequently, if we can sense that an artist has doubts (no matter how great the performance), it ruins it for us. The most memorable singers, dancers, and entertainers are not always the best at their art form. They are not always the most beautiful either. But what they do consistently is exude the most confidence.
Until Pink can stop sucking all of the air and energy out of a room by terrorizing us with her scary acrobatic contortions, it might be best for her to drop the drama. It might be best for her to simply stand in place and sing big—which is all we fans really want or need her to do. Then she might recognize that there is no need to turn the Big Time into a Big Top Circus. Or, at the very least, some cheesy off-Broadway musical.
Well, better to do a little, but show some quality than overdo. Pink tries to impress the public, but she really goes too far sometimes. Some celebs don’t know how else they can show themselves to their advantage and behave…rather odd.