(By Joe Lynch, Fuse, August 28, 2013)
Two decades after its birth, Miley Cyrus discovered the
booty-shaking craze and shoved it down our throats. Now it's in the dictionary.
Here's what happened.
It started in the 1990s, got name-checked by Beyonce and Justin Timberlake over
the years and then exploded into the stratosphere this week when Miley Cyrus did it all over Robin Thicke's crotch at the
2013 VMAs. Yep, we're talking about twerking. Thanks to Ms. Cyrus, that particular dance
move—squatting down, sticking your ass out and shaking it up and down—has
officially super-saturated our culture. But while twerking might be new to
many, it's actually been around since 1993 and has a storied history. So from
its birth in New Orleans (as a combination of the words "twist,"
"twitch," "work" and "jerk") to its recent
inclusion in the Oxford English Dictionary, here's the Definitive History of
Twerking.
1993: Twerking was born out of New Orleans' bounce
music scene, a hip hop sub-genre centered around call-and-response vocals and
the endlessly sampled Triggaman beat. The first reference to twerking in a song
is DJ Jubilee's "Do the Jubilee All" in 1993, which features him
telling the crowd to, "Twerk baby, twerk baby, twerk, twerk, twerk."
Much like twerking, the bounce music scene has been getting more national
attention over the last few years. No small thanks due to bounce music's Queen
Diva Big Freedia, whose
reality show Big Freedia:
Queen of Bounce debuts October 2 on Fuse.
1995: New Orleans femcee Cheeky Blakk dropped the
track "Twerk Something," another bounce music track centered around
the Triggaman beat.
1997: DJ Jubilee returns to the world of twerking
with "Get Ready, Ready," which finds him commanding the listener to
"twerk it!"
2000: Atlanta rap duo Ying Yang Twins' debut single
"Whistle While You Twurk" described the act of twerking in (far too
much) detail in its NSFW chorus: "Whistle while you twurk / Go head and
start and make that p—sy fart / And whistle while you twurk."
2003: The first definition of twerking is submitted
to Urban Dictionary: "To work one's body, as in dancing, especially the
rear end."
2005: Beyonce's No. 1 hit "Check On It"
features the line "Dip it, pop it, twerk it, stop it, check on me
tonight" in the chorus.
2006: Justin Timberlake's No. 1 hit
"SexyBack" features the line, "Let me see what ya twerkin'
with."
2009: The Twerk Team—three teenage girls from
Atlanta—upload a video of themselves twerking to Soulja Boy's "Donk."
It receives over a million views in one week.
2010: Miley Cyrus goes to New Orleans to film the
direct-to-video movie So Undercover and learns how to twerk.
2011: Waka Flocka Flame and Drake's "Round of
Applause" references YouTube stars the Twerk Team: "Bounce that ass,
shake that ass like the Twerk Team."
March 2012: Diplo
& Nicky Da B's "Express Yourself" video helps the dance continue
its ascent to ubiquity by featuring a seemingly endless parade of dancers
twerking, including people facing a wall and twerking upside down.
June 2012: French Montana's "Pop
That" with Lil Wayne,
Drake and Rick Ross features
the hook, "What you twerkin' with / Work, work, work, work, bounce."
September 2012: Juicy J's "Bandz A Make Her
Dance" features the line, "Start twerking when she hear her song /
Stripper pole her income."
March 2013: Video of Miley Cyrus twerking in a
unicorn onesie to J. Dash & Flo Rida's "Wop" goes viral.
May 2013: 33 San Diego high school students are
suspended for filming themselves twerking with school camcorders.
June 2013: Miley Cyrus twerks at Juicy J's L.A.
concert. Video of her first public twerk session goes viral.
July 2013: Jay
Z's Magna Carta…Holy Grail track "Somewhereinamerica"
features the line, "Feds still lurking / They see I'm still putting work
in / Cause somewhere in America / Miley Cyrus is still twerkin.'"
August 2013: Miley Cyrus twerks
at the VMAs during her duet with Robin Thicke. It's the most talked about
moment of the night, although many decry it as an appropriation of black
culture and/or morally offensive.
- The Oxford English Dictionary adds twerking to its
vocabulary.
- Diplo
announces his intention to set the "world record of having the most
people twerking at the same time." The DJ will line up a human wall of
twerkers (i.e., the Great Wall of 'Gina) at New York's Electric Zoo fest over
Labor Day Weekend.
And that brings us up to present day. If you're sick to
death of twerking, Fuse News' Elaine Moran hears you and has crafted the
perfect
anti-twerk anthem. And to see what legitimate twerking looks like from a
dancer who knows what they're doing, read our Miley-slamming
interview with the Queen of Bounce Big Freedia and watch
her upcoming reality show, Big
Freedia: Queen of Bounce, when it debuts October 2 at 11/10c on Fuse.
http://www.fuse.tv/2013/08/brief-history-of-twerking?fb_comment_id=fbc_559560890758474_5353729_559949194052977#f2bd733327dda72
Richard's comments:
The thing I don't get about the Miley Cyrus VMA controversy/disaster is how everyone is making it about race instead of offensive behavior. Much of the racial comments are pointed at Miley Cyrus's appropriation of black culture and black dance moves. Commentators and notable black culture icons are saying that it was wrong of her to utilize dance moves that are associated with black culture. That sounds to me like they are saying that white people should not adopt and integrate things that originated within black culture, that the two should be mutually exclusive and completely separate.
You can see what this argument implies if you take it to the logical conclusion. You cannot claim that there are still racial barriers and also get upset when other races integrate your culture and behaviors. What everyone should be condemning is twerking itself. The dance move is basically a barely disguised sexual act being perpetrated in public and should not be accepted as proper social behavior. Dancing should be a metaphor for sex, not a demonstration of it.
The Miley Cyrus
twerktastrophe is important shit, man. Yes, it's important even at this exact
moment, when it looks like we're about to start another war with another
country, and your Facebook feed is full of condescending suggestions that we've
got bigger problems than Billy Ray Cyrus' daughter (dressed in flesh-colored underpants) grinding up against
Alan Thicke's son (dressed like Beetlejuice). We do have bigger problems, it's
true. But we can compartmentalize, and not entirely ignore this one.
Richard's comments:
The thing I don't get about the Miley Cyrus VMA controversy/disaster is how everyone is making it about race instead of offensive behavior. Much of the racial comments are pointed at Miley Cyrus's appropriation of black culture and black dance moves. Commentators and notable black culture icons are saying that it was wrong of her to utilize dance moves that are associated with black culture. That sounds to me like they are saying that white people should not adopt and integrate things that originated within black culture, that the two should be mutually exclusive and completely separate.
You can see what this argument implies if you take it to the logical conclusion. You cannot claim that there are still racial barriers and also get upset when other races integrate your culture and behaviors. What everyone should be condemning is twerking itself. The dance move is basically a barely disguised sexual act being perpetrated in public and should not be accepted as proper social behavior. Dancing should be a metaphor for sex, not a demonstration of it.
Miley Cyrus Matters
(By Brandon Soderberg, Spin.com, August 29 2013)
Even if you're suffering from think-piece fatigue, the post-racial
nightmare that was "We Can't Stop" at the MTV Video Music Awards
deserves your attention
This is a knotty,
vital issue, spanning from racial appropriation to feminist concerns over the
ugly, casual rhetoric of slut-shaming. And however you feel about Miley's
wildly problematic MTV VMA's performance — a symphony of twerking,
tongue-wagging, crotch-rubbing, and butt-slapping — it has already inspired a
lot of great writing, including New York Magazine critic Jody Rosen's charge (and subsequent Twitter defense of that charge) that at its
worst, the debacle tilted over into minstrelsy, as when Miley slapped the ass
of a black dancer, reducing the woman to a symbol — something a provocative
(and white) pop star can stand near and fondle and strip-mine for authenticity.
But it's worth
noting also that the Artist Formerly Known as Hannah Montana's uncomfortable
relationship with black culture has been fermenting for a while. Miley's
rollout as a hip-hop-skewing pop star began in March, when she uploaded a video
of her twerking to J. Dash's "Wop," sending a two-year-old song to the Billboard Hot 100).
In June came future VMA showstopper "We Can't Stop" itself, an appropriately Disney-esque party song with just
enough daring to make it seem mature, its video replete with American
Apparel-style decadence (and a number of black women). Since then, Miley has
stepped in it multiple times in interviews, explaining that she was taking more
of a "black" approach (which to her is synonymous with strip-club
anthems), further boasting that while she may be "a hillbilly," she
can still "twerk." She even showed up in the clip for Big Sean's
"Fire," trying on the video-girl persona for a few minutes. Her new
album, Bangerz, is out in October.
But this exchange
works both ways: "Miley Cyrus" has also become a meme in hip-hop. The
once-clever crack-rap trope where rappers would refer to cocaine as "white
girl" has shifted to naming all white drugs after specific white female
celebs: Atlanta trap trio Migos, for example, have a song
called "Hannah Montana." ("I got molly / I got white /
I've been trapping, trapping, trapping all damn night.") Meek Mill:
"Got a bad bitch in my Chevy / She's selling Miley Cyrus." Lil Wayne:
"I wish we were single, like a couple of dollars / And when we get
together, she be on that Miley Cyrus." Jay Z, even: "Somewhere in America / Miley Cyrus is still
twerking."
That's a funny,
mock-poetic Jay line, actually. It exists to get people talking, of course, but
there's a biting edge to it, a bemusement with the racial politics of 2013 even
as it perpetuates this sense of a "post-racial America" — enabled in
part, Jay believes, by his own rise to superstardom. It's also part of a song
about how "you can't teach racism when your child is connected to the
culture," as he told Elliott Wilson. That betrays a deeply naïve
understanding of how racism is internalized, and/or the twists and turns
racists' brains make to accept blackness while also rejecting it. But it's also
instructive: Jay's perpetuation of the post-racial myth is integral to the
marketing of mainstream music now. Even Mylie's.
This is all part
of our current egregious pop moment, when the removal of black voices seems
persistent and calculated. So much of the criticism of this year's VMA's has
centered on the relentless whiteness, from Macklemore's filibuster of an
acceptance speech to Justin Timberlake's epic victory lap. And for me, it
recalled another terrible awards show: the 2011 Grammys. Remember that? Gang
Starr's Guru left out of the "In Memoriam" montage; the Best Rap
Album nod going to past-his-prime Eminem's Recovery; Lady Antebellum
paying tribute to Teddy Pendergrass; Mick Jagger singing Solomon Burke songs;
and Cee-Lo singing "Fuck You" (or "Forget You," or
whatever) with Gwyneth Paltrow, who also sang it on Glee.
At the time, I called the show a "great
whitewash"; The Fader's Naomi Zeichner just said the very same thing about the 2013 VMA's. (Perhaps the
shock here is that we assumed MTV to be a bit hipper than the Grammys.) That
2011 disaster sure felt like a terrible and significant event: At the precise
moment when hip-hop was fully integrated into pop (not hip-hop as pop, but
rapping as but one more signifier in every pop-music song), blackness was
shoved into the background. Since then, the charts have grown yet whiter, and
hip-hop too is suffering a whitewash: Mac Miller is being given a great deal of credit for aping the bugged-out
qualities of MF Doom and other eccentric underground hip-hop, while Macklemore
is not only presented as a valid rapper, but as a socially aware alternative to mainstream rap's excess.
This is how Miley Cyrus happened.
As for this
week's raging Miley debate, it often has the odd effect of pitting feminism
(combating the clowns whose primary reaction to the VMA's was to make fun of
Miley's ass) against racism; Jezebel wisely addressed this issue, offering a woman's
perspective that didn't ignore the "incredible racist nature" of her
performance. (There's been lots of great writing this week about the way white people objectify black bodies, too.) You
can't govern what people — even clueless white people like Miley Cyrus (and the
machine behind her, which by the way, knows exactly what it is doing) — get out
of hip-hop. She deserves criticism for reducing rap culture to its basest, most
sexually depraved instincts, but those who merely slut-shame her in response
should invite ridicule, too.
It's outrageous,
by the way, that Robin Thicke has shouldered none of the responsibility for the
VMA's performance; he didn't exactly comport himself with any more dignity. And
don't forget that Miley's father, Billy Ray, gained wider success by
objectifying himself, too — within the world of country music, at least,
shaking his butt in tight jeans and courting a roughneck, working-class appeal. Cyrus' story in and of itself is unimpressive
and boilerplate: Young white artist looking for edge and controversy,
ill-informed about the world bigger than her dumb little
Los-Angeles-by-way-of-Nashville privileged bubble, grafts elements of hip-hop
culture onto herself in an attempt to appear "down," and winds up
talking about "hood" culture and serving up "black is an
attitude" nonsense as a result. What's shocking about this is that she's
getting away with it, that people are indulging her, and that the interplay
between white artists and black artists seems like it is actually growing more
one-sided.
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