In all possible universes, DJ Crazy Times and Ms. Biljana Electronica will find each other. Two years ago, comedian Kyle Gordon blew up on TikTok for his song “Planet of the Bass,” featuring Audrey Trullinger lip-syncing to a hook by Chrissi Poland. The caption on the video read, “Every European Dance Song in the 1990’s,” and it racked up millions of views, many presumably by TikTokers born well after Y2K. Today, Gordon is back with a new throwback genre parody song called “Selekta,” an amalgam of different British rap subgenres in that ’90s-to-early-2000s zone. This time, he is going by Albie Wobble, and his sidekick is Trixie B (a DJ named Sidequest also appears on the track as himself). Like “Planet of the Bass” before it, “Selekta” has caused much debate among Vulture-ites. So Anne Victoria Clark, who’s something of an Anglophile, and Rebecca Alter, who’s something of a silly-song-phile, decided to hash it out (bangers and mash it out?) about TikTok’s new favorite parody track.
Rebecca Alter: Since Kyle Gordon dropped this on TikTok, his rhymes have not left my head. I stim to them. I walk around my house going, “Couldn’t nick a hot pot pie off me nan.” It’s a fabulously sticky lyric. I am someone historically allergic to white comedy guys doing funny raps, but Kyle cracked the code by making it British. It’s so dumb it’s fun. It’s like something Mrs. Lovett would sing before baking you into a dang pie!
Anne Victoria Clark: I would welcome my crusty death in that scenario. Honestly, I am not able to get past the aforementioned cringe of hearing a white guy say “gwan” — though I realize the Britishness adds another cultural layer here.
R.A.: I grew up in Toronto, so white guys saying “gwan” was my entire teen years.
A.V.C.: I just have this intense physical reaction to most musical comedy, or comedy that seeks to parody music itself. Immediately, I’m just annoyed. I don’t mind songs that feature jokes, but this sort of general genre parody feels more reactionary. In this instance, he’s parodying music I actually like! But in a way that makes me feel like he’s never listened to it.
R.A.: That’s interesting, because this is a genre I know nothing about. Which is why I think I can enjoy it without noticing the way that small details of it are “off” or whatever. There was a similar discourse around “Planet of the Bass,” where real Eurodance heads got nitpicky about the ways that small details were wrong about the genre and the time period. But I love a funny voice and a funny rhyme. And these two songs have them in spades.
A.V.C.: Yes, this feels more like a version of “Planet of the Bass,” but with different clothes and with a video shot in what I assume is Forest Hills, a very underrated area of New York.
R.A.: The really exciting part for me is that Biljana Electronica is back and, once again, her hook is phenomenal: “Oglin me baps all through my Burberry / I know you heard of me.”
A.V.C.: I like when she says “all through me Burberry.” But then, that part is also weird to me, because that’s not a thing I associate with this sort of music.
R.A.: But that’s what makes it fun and silly — it’s an American intentionally just cramming random British shit together, like rhyming the British way of saying “Z” with “Greggs.” And it has made British people on Twitter so angry, which makes it EXTRA funny. (Meanwhile, the Brits in the YouTube comments love it.)
A.V.C.: I feel like if I saw Kyle live, I would be watching one continuous track of him changing accents. What he does is so repetitive. This song makes me feel like my dad, in a way that’s like, “All this music sounds the same!!”
R.A.: So you’re telling me you think “Stab ’em in the biscuit / blood on me trainers? Nah, can’t risk it” is NOT a good line to you? You’re telling me “I never knew your crew be doo-doo” is NOT awesome?
A.V.C.: If someone stabbed my biscuit, I would go feral. This song is awesome for babies — like, I know several babies that would smile at the doo-doo part. And that’s not a bad thing! But you know what is? This guy parodying a genre of music having apparently only ever watched Ali G. It’s just boring — and it hurts me, Rebecca. I just started a new antidepressant, and this is maxing out all of it.
R.A.: I think there’s a microgenerational schism happening between those who find it annoying and those who are tickled by it.
A.V.C.: I think the problem with a lot of parody is it very often ends up being lazy, something people do because they want their work to resonate widely without having to craft something original that speaks to the human experience. I am not saying it speaks to no one’s experience, but yeah, I just think this is an attempt to appeal to people who hate something they don’t understand for likes and views.
R.A.: I don’t think his parodies come from a place of hate. Take the annoying stomp-clap millennial song. You need to have listened to a LOT of fun. to get that accurate. He can make it that ridiculous because there’s care there. DJ Crazy Time is all love, no hate, baby.
A.V.C.: It’s good that he’s able to do that with other things, but with this, it feels disdainful and clumsy. Maybe it’s because I think some of the humor relies on everyone agreeing that “these people talk funny.”
R.A.: But, Anne, even they think they talk funny.
A.V.C.: Look, as a Matt Berry FREAK, I am not above being amused at how British people speak, which is at times ridiculous.
R.A.: Ohhh, right, okay. I see what this is now! You think a lot of British comedy is good, so of course you hate this. I’m less cultured in this way.
A.V.C.: Yes! I don’t think there’s anything wrong with liking this song, but it makes me upset personally because it is roasting something I enjoy in a way that feels like generalizing. I am someone who watches a lot of British comedy (and listens to a lot of British music), so when people make fun of it, my eyes narrow. Look, last night I was watching a sitcom where David Mitchell plays William Shakespeare trying to convince his family to help him with his plays. We all like weird things.
R.A.: “Selekta” is the William Shakespeare of the modern age. Shakespeare couldn’t have written “I never knew your crew be doo-doo.”
A.V.C.: I have now listened to this song six times. I hope I never hear it again unless someone is about to bake me into a meat pie.
R.A.: There’s only one way to settle this fight, obviously (rap battle).
A.V.C.: Blood on my trainers? Nah, I can’t risk it.
