How did it come to this? While we were questioning whether Lorde, Haim or even Turnstile would take the baton from Charli and dominate the charts this summer, it was the straight white males, coming ‘round the outside, that we should have been keeping an eye on.
Currently sitting firm at the top of the Billboard Hot 100 is Alex Warren. I know, you’re probably wondering if he was that timid lad in your Year 7 PE class. A fair question for a man who, as one Redditor aptly put it, is the ‘musical equivalent of Cornflakes.’
But no. Alex Warren is the Tennessee-born, once homeless, internet prankster-turned-musical-man-of God, behind the supermassive, chart-topping hit ‘Ordinary’ which – on Spotify alone – has been streamed 759 million times.
759 million times? I hate shit like this. My algorithm is so firmly skewed to drown out ‘this sorta thing’ that when I hear a number like 759 million (ridiculous, no matter the context), followed by the name ‘Alex Warren’, I immediately question everything.
Fucking who? How many? What?
The track, ‘Ordinary’ (its actual name, not Pitchfork review) is a stomp-pop ballad about loving the same gal until you die. Warren, despite looking 19-ish, is married and the song is about his wife. Fine. What else?
His voice has that same bellowing baritone that makes frat bros say “I love you man” to their buddies (in a purely platonic way). You know the one; you’ve heard it boom from the hallowed lips of Rag n’ Bone Man, George Ezra and at least three other ‘artists’ that I actually couldn’t name you (thank you, algorithm).
It takes but 35 seconds for the first insufferable stomp to kick in. If you’re not familiar with the term Stomp Pop, let me enlighten you. It’s characterised by an unbearably slow beat on a floor tom, which allows ample space for the audience to stomp their feet, clap their hands or make some sort of “woh-oah” noise. Sometimes you don’t need lyrics, do you? Just a big woh-oah will do it.
Stomp Pop is anthemic, emotionally driven pop for people with limited brain cells. It’s formulaic songwriting, which unfortunately for us, seems to endlessly deliver ‘numbers’. Because, in short, a lot of people are stupid. Oh, did I mention the key change? There’s probably one of them.
In recent years, Imagine Dragons have flown the Stomp Pop flag with pride, handed it long ago by Mumford & Sons, Of Monsters & Men and Bastille (sorry Dan, you’re still fine).
But it’s not really about Warren. I saw him on Lorraine and he seemed alright.
Elsewhere in the Billboard Top 10 right now are three Morgan Wallen songs. Three. This is a man who was caught on camera in 2021 using a racial slur and now tops the charts with his truly abysmal brand of ‘modern country’. I want it to stop.
At No.9, we’ve got Teddy Swims. I wasn’t familiar with Edward until he swam across the pond and popped up at the Brit Awards earlier in the year dressed as a human duvet. In his song, ‘Lose Control’ #stomptime happens at 41 seconds (though there are a few little finger clicks to whet your whistle beforehand.)
Elsewhere, there’s Shaboozey with ‘Tipsy’ who, granted, is not a straight white male but has written a song about drinking that makes you feel like you’re suffering the worst hangover known to man. And given that it was first released fifteen months ago, that you’re living it again and again and again.
All in all, it’s a sad state of affairs and much like elsewhere in America, the charts suggest the 77.3 million Trump voters are not just alive – they’re thriving. And apparently, when they’re not waiting for dear Donald to ‘release the files,’ they’re streaming ‘Ordinary’ an average of 9.82 times each.
Stomp Pop is the antithesis to the brilliance of the chart-topping, innovative, genre-defiant women we’ve seen release music in the last few years. Devoid of originality, lyrical substance with a layer of thinly veiled toxicity bubbling up near the surface, it’s the musical embodiment of MAGA itself.
What’s perhaps most depressing, though, is what the charts don’t show: women. In this week’s Billboard Top 10, not a single solo female artist is present. The only women are guests – voices in service of someone else’s narrative. It’s a shift so stark and regressive, you’d be forgiven for wondering if we accidentally stomped straight back into 2013. What happened to the girls? To the weirdos and boundary-pushers? To the Brats? This isn’t just a blip – it feels like a backlash. A return to the safety of the masculine voice: chest-thumping, heartbreak-having, Jesus-loving, beer-drinking ballads that keep emotion palatable and perspective narrow. And if the dominance of Stomp Pop tells us anything, it’s that toxic masculinity is learning how to sing again – and it’s got a kick drum.
