If music is a medium of self-expression, how come songs portray women as attention whores and sex-hungry bitches?
In a country such as the Philippines wherein “music is life,” passive consumption of songs is inevitable. With all the videoke-blasting during birthday celebrations, and Sunday music shows and audition singing competitions on the regular in the television, focus is either on criticizing the skill of the singer or just simply having fun. Who bothers reading into the meaning?
Perhaps this is the reason why songs with lyrics like “Sorbetes ka ba? Kasi gusto mong dinidilaan ka,” or “Monay n’ya na malaman na nu’ng una, sabik na mapalamanan,” go viral and dominate the charts. These songs usually fall into the genre of Pinoy hip-hop. According to Spotify data, the once niche genre has now become mainstream in the Philippines. A Spotify playlist called Kalye Hip-Hop has seen a more than 50% increase in streams in 2020, becoming one of the top local playlists with its more than 706K followers.
Who should we hold responsible for the popularity of such songs? Should we point our fingers at the listeners, who are only mere consumers of a product? Or should we put all the blame on the writers and producers of not necessarily the rap and hip-hop genre, but the objectifying, male gazey type of music.
In a 1973 essay entitled "Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema,” feminist film theorist Laura Mulvey coined the term “male gaze” to describe how in movies, female characters are commonly depicted as passive objects while male characters are active protagonists. However, its influence has extended from its initial context in film to any medium where women participate in, including music, as well as in their real life experiences.
Women are often overtly sexualized objects of desire which makes all the spectators, regardless of gender, the active agent that is looking at them. We may not notice it but indeed the normalization of these songs has made everyone, even women, unconsciously submit to the meanings they give out.
The male gaze can be observed in modern tunes such as Neneng B and Mau, and can be traced back to classic hits like Miss Flawless, Legs, and Katawan. Upon reading comments under their music videos, the lack of people calling out the misogynistic lyrics is noticeable. Instead, they are celebrated for their “revolutionary beats,” “stimulating visuals (clue: they all zoom in on disjointed body parts),” and the nostalgia they evoke, bringing people back to their core memory screaming the lyrics of Banyo Queen.
“Ako'y nasa Malate, alas siete ng gabi,
Nakilala ko tuloy itong magandang babae
Na nakabibighani sa aking mga mata…” – Banyo Queen, Andrew E.
One may argue that these songs are only appreciating women and in a shallow sense, maybe they are, because what’s wrong with telling girl she’s pretty and hot, right? But hidden behind the guise of female empowerment is the crude portrayal of how women are always craving for attention or sexual pleasure. The voyeuristic tendencies of these songs inevitably transpire into sexism. When they tell a girl she is pretty and hot, it does not stop at that. It will either branch out into objectification, sexualization, or degradation. What if I tell you that the next line in Banyo Queen is, “Ang 'di ko lang alam ay manloloko lang pala?”
This patriarchal culture of media wherein the spectator is a man while the spectacle is a woman tremendously reflects the reality of our country: where men are considered more powerful and hold more privilege; where national leaders, even the person in the highest position in the country, disrespect and discriminate against women; where the lone female presidential candidate is subjected to misogynistic attacks and belittled simply because she is a woman; where sex scandals of her daughters are fabricated and shared on social media platforms; where women are viewed as sexual beings but shamed for celebrating their sexuality.
If music is a medium of self-expression, why do these artists sing of women simultaneously as subjects and as objects, loudly and proudly? Why do listeners blindly continue to sing along?
As consumers, it is our responsibility to be critical of what we choose to listen to. While artists are responsible for this type of lyrical content, we must remain aware of the misogynistic messages masked by the metaphors of these songs. We must call out the artists who uphold the sexualization of women in music. We must ask ourselves whether what it is we stand for: seeing women as objects or recognizing their value and worth as human beings.
In a country such as the Philippines wherein “music is life,” active consumption of songs should be the norm. With all the countless attacks and micro-aggressions women face daily, focus should be shifted in denouncing misogyny not only in the context of music but also in the real world. We should make the effort to read into these songs’ meanings and remain watchful of the male gaze.
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