Sports Car (Tate McRae)


Unless you've been living under a rock, you've heard the dirty, little pop song that is Sports Car. Funny thing about the video is nary a sports car is to be found. In its place is a whole lot of innuendo, costume changes, and well, Tate McRae. Nothing to complain about there. 

But I do like sports cars and believe the absence of one is an oversight. And don't talk to me about Mustangs or Camaros; those aren't sports cars. Those are muscle cars. Can't tell the difference? You will if you throw a muscle car into a corner like you would a sports car. A lot of people made that mistake and paid for it with their lives. I knew a few, rest their souls. Muscle cars are about straight-line acceleration. Those who dare mix copious amounts of horsepower and poor handling will pay the price. 

May I suggest the Nissan GT-R? AKA Godzilla. I mean, it literally spits fire. Sure, it's an oldie now, but it's a goodie. And looks good in every color. Over-engineered, yes, and heavy, but it's a mechanical wet dream come true for car enthusiasts. For my money, an Accord (Car & Driver 10Best, yo) would suffice, but that's because I'm both practical and somewhat poor. Sports cars are dream cars; not everyone achieves their dreams. My dreams seem to involve zombies and shotguns, so not much chance that will come true either. 

Okay, so it's a metaphor. The feeling of falling in love and all that correlates to driving a sports car. You go, girl. I would accept that notion, had I not listened to the lyrics. My, my, Tate McRae, those lyrics are dirty, but they stop short of being pornographic. Let's be honest. This song is about fucking, and we know that after the first line. We nod along to the rest of the song because, we actually do "know what this is." 

The cuts in the video are fast. And the hooded person is watching the girl perform in her little box. Definitely a sex-kitten programming theme. At the end, we see the mysterious hooded person is actually Tate. Symbolism dominates the video. As with action movies, you have to play hard and fast with archetypes and easily identifiable symbols because time is of the essence and subtlety simply doesn't work. The whole video says, "Get in the car, loser." Except there is no car, dammit. We are driving a damn metaphor. 

I became aware of Tate McRae a few years ago when I heard "You Broke Me First," which is out-of-this-world good. I can't help wondering what that song would sound like faster. It would be such a banger, in the modern parlance. The fact that Tate is now 21 and "You Broke Me First" came out in 2020 means (checks math), she was 16 when it was released. That's nuts. I never would have guessed. And who the fuck was breaking that beautiful 16-year-old girl? I will kill you. 

Her voice is often processed but always unmistakable. You hear her on the radio and can't help but recognize her trademark voice. That's one thing that makes an artist successful: their unique sound. No one sounds like her. (Billie Eilish is one that's close.) And she looks good too. Am I allowed to say that about a 21-year-old? Feel free to judge. I'm judging you too, if you say that's not okay. You might be gay. Honestly, she's gorgeous. Those big, emotive eyes and full lips? And I love girls with a strong nose, except they can smell my bullshit a mile away. All jokes. 

I do like the horse in the video next to the engine. I screamed, "I get it!" Horsepower, right? Yes, a bit lame, but I'll take it in lieu of an actual sports car. "Neigh," you say? Okay, I'll quit. This energy drink is going to my head. I feel lightheaded, so will end here. Looking forward to what Tate McRae pulls off in the future. I hope I'm around to see it. Energy drinks and weak hearts don't mix. But for 10 glorious hours, I am a fully-gassed-up GT-R terrorizing the streets. 

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