Although Jack Harlow set an intention long ago (a.k.a. in 2020) to work with Doja Cat, it took five years to make it happen. Conveniently, at a time when Doja Cat has never known higher favor. This despite various “snafus,” including, but not limited to, being accused of condoning and promoting white supremacy and telling her fans that their beloved Hot Pink and Planet Her were nothing more than cash grabs).
But after coming through the other side with labels such as “visionary” and “avant-garde” for her album, Scarlet (titled, at various points in the process, Hellmouth, Moist Holes and First of All), Harlow cited that the timing was “just right” for a collaboration to Zane Lowe. In addition to insisting the two are naturally simpatico because, per Harlow, “Doja and I emerged at a similar time in the music culture” (i.e., during the pandemic, when defenses were down vis-à-vis content absorption), it can’t be denied that, lyrically speaking, the duo is definitely attuned. Namely, in terms of spitting out what can best be described as “Newspeak” phrases (what with 1984 apparently serving as a handbook for most people, rather than a cautionary tale). For Doja, that reached a peak with Planet Her’s “Get Into It (Yuh),” featuring such “eloquent” verses as, “Get into it, yuh/If she ain’t got a butt/Fuck it, get into it, yuh.”
Something about such “poetry” must have appealed to a similar lyricist like Harlow, who opens “Just Us” with the oh so descriptive picture, “I wish it was just us in this bitch/But they can’t trust us in this bitch/‘Cause I’m tryna bust nuts in this, huh.” Luckily, one supposes, there’s a music video to better paint the image that Harlow’s language fails to delineate. Opting to set the stage at Horses in Los Angeles (specifically, West Hollywood), Harlow sits at a corner table as he lasciviously eyes Doja from across the room. Outfitted in a red sequined dress (that many might mistake for latex) that’s cut just below her bum, Doja returns the flirtation by getting up and heading to the kitchen, looking back at Harlow with a come-hither glance as Harlow continues, “Slow it down like macaroni/I know it sounds like Zack and Cody/This life’s sweet, I mean high-key.” This said as he approaches her in the kitchen, the staff on deck evidently immune to any notions of “scandalous” behavior, what with having worked in Hollywood for so long.
And yes, Horses is inarguably a celebrity watering hole thanks to its price points alone. Perhaps that’s part of why there’s a barrage of cameos from famous people of varying degrees, including Matt Damon, John Mayer, DJ Drama, Taylor Rooks, Nicholas Braun and Malcolm Todd. Matt Damon’s appearance makes a bit of sense compared to the others, considering Harlow appeared in a movie with him (The Instigators). As for the rest, well, maybe it’s just another night in romantic H’wood (though there’s nothing romantic about John Mayer). Complete with Doja grabbing some ingredients from the prep bowl and tossing it at Harlow like someone didn’t just spend hours working on it. Oh, the rich and their little bubble.
As the two keep doing their “kitchen dance,” interspersed scenes, courtesy of director Neal Farmer (known for his editing work for the likes of Charli XCX, Billie Eilish and Kendrick Lamar), of Harlow and Doja “canoodling” at the bar—much too Matt Damon’s annoyance—give Harlow the chance to repeat the non-thinking man’s chorus, “Let’s keep it/On a hush-hush in this bitch/I told her she’s so pretty/And she just blushed in this bitch/She clutch-clutchin’ my—, huh I’m adjusting my—, huh/She husky like mush-mush in this bitch/You must be nuts rushing this.” For, as it is said, “It’s not the destination, it’s the journey.” And whoever proclaimed the original version of that must have been a big believer in foreplay (*cough cough* Ralph Waldo Emerson).
But it’s in the kitchen that the following lyrics play: “And you might be/Something that isn’t quite but slightly/Resembles wifey [how…flattering?], I’ma need this nightly/You say you know all about Pisces/I disagree, but call it out nicely/I’m all on you, falling out my seat.” Let’s just say that Kurt Cobain is in no danger of his own Pisces line (“She eyes me like a Pisces when I’m weak”) being usurped.
As for Doja, she finally decides to enter the chat with her own verse at the one minute, eleven-second mark, declaring, “Yeah/Two hands on my ‘fro, starin’ into my soul/Leg up on that chair, hand on that arm, tongue in that throat/I don’t play with my pen, leave it on a good note/Keep you all on your toes, leave the TV off for this show/You a softy, marshmallows and black coffee/My mouth cold from this blue frosty/My back blown ’cause you blew it off me, like, uh/You want me or what? Prove that with yo’—, huh/Spend sum’ for this, huh?/Who said that ain’t love?/And this bass hittin’ real backhanded/Insatiable, I’m like Pac-Man/We go back further than backgammon.” By this time, the restaurant has devolved in something resembling what must have went on in pre-smartphone Hollywood, with people grabbing each other and kissing, lighting up cigarettes from candles and generally following Doja and Jack’s sexually-charged lead.
And while some might have thought that Doja would stop with the backgammon line, she keeps going, “Hey, Jackman, I mean, Jack Rabbit/I’m runnin’ while I look back at it/Fans really some fanatics/They cooked, kinda like crack addicts/We cookin’ shit up like black magic/Backs to ’em, paper talk, spoke fax to ’em/Makeup on for these pop features/I’m throwin’ ass to some bad music/Yeah, I’m that stupid, like, duh/You mad cute, I wan’ fuck/Don’t icebox me, let’s touch.” More shade directed at fans just had to be thrown in for good measure.
As for Harlow’s concluding lyrics, one of them gives away the fact that he would be asking too much of his audience to know who The Temptations are (and it was already asking too much to wield The Suite Life of Zack & Cody as a pop culture reference via “I know it sound like Zack and Cody, this life sweet”). Hence, really spelling it out for “Googling it” purposes with, “We got all these Temptations like the group from Motown.”
In the end, though, the temptation appears surmountable as the pair does slow it down, opting to just sit at the table together. Where the rest of the night might go, who knows… Either way, it’s a ringing endorsement for Horses.
+ There are no comments
Add yours