Pop – like feminism, Donald Trump’s hair and, er, the sea – comes in waves. In the late 90s and early noughties we had the perma-smiling Disney kids – Britney, Christina, Justin – and shiny, globe-straddling boy bands such as ’N Sync and Backstreet Boys. Then came the second wave of Disney and TV-based whippersnappers in the shape of Miley Cyrus, Demi Lovato, Ariana Grande, the Jonas Brothers and Selena Gomez. As social media grew and album sales started to dip, a new type of young pop star – ones that seemed to only exist online but who sold a lot of singles - was born, led by Justin Bieber. But, regardless of external influences, there’s always been one consistent factor that even perfectly preened and media-trained pop practitioners can’t avoid; the passing of time. So with all of the above having traversed pop’s coming-of-age precipice with varying degrees of subtlety and success, who are pop’s future hopes and where are they being created?
How a pop act handles the coming-of-age moment – that liminal space between innocent teenage star and controversial adult artist – can often define your future career. Britney’s was the toughest ascent into adulthood and involved trying to challenge the public’s ingrained perception of her as a forever virgin. Christina, meanwhile, had no such problems given that she broke out of her innocent pop star mould by performing a song called Dirrty on a Saturday morning TV show while wearing leather chaps. When she couldn’t sustain that initial shock factor, however, her career stalled. For Justin, the move was easier, with his sexual proclivities – his nickname was Trousersnake, let’s not forget – celebrated and championed from the start. For Timberlake it was a case of updating his image and moving the music into a more credible framework, ie his first album sounded like Michael Jackson.
These initial pop crusaders set the benchmark for those that followed. So, having escaped Hannah Montana, Miley Cyrus fell into the Christina framework of obliterating her past in a fairly swift and dramatic way, while Justin Bieber mixed a hint of the darkness of Britney’s 2007 meltdown with the Timberlake route of trying to sound like Michael Jackson. However, he did it under the increased spotlight of internet thinkpieces, social-media scrutiny and an angry Sinead O’Connor. Nick Jonas, meanwhile, is basically a facsimile of Timberlake circa Justified – ie he, too, sounds a bit like Michael Jackson – but with less to lose considering he was never the Jonas that people expected to be a good pop star (that was Joe). Meanwhile, Demi and Selena have both arrived at their Christina moments from slightly different angles. Bored of being her fan’s self-help guru via the uplifting ballads Skyscraper and Warrior, Demi’s new single Cool for the Summer is a Max Martin-produced bisexuality banger, all whispered coos of “don’t tell your mother” and outfits that would frighten said parent. As if to hammer home the point – and the coming-of-age period is never subtle - her new album is called Confident.
Christina’s influence, particularly her Stripped album, is also all over Selena Gomez’s forthcoming Revival. With black-and-white artwork featuring a semi-naked Gomez and a blog-friendly lead single featuring A$AP Rocky, it couldn’t scream “I’VE GROWN UP AND I’M CREDIBLE” more if it came with a copy of her birth certificate and the latest Pitchfork review. For Ariana Grande – a former Nickelodeon star – her incredible voice has meant she’s always been respected by the credibility gatekeepers. In fact, perhaps this recent spate of doughnut licking and anti-American outbursts are an attempt to stir things up a bit.
So now that our pop stars are all grown up, have thrown out lots of unnecessary clothing and are apparently enjoying varied and fulfilling sex lives, what of the future? It’s complicated. Music has fragmented so much that the traditional avenues have been squeezed out by everything from TV talent shows to social media to YouTube and Vine. Music genres aren’t as defined as they used to be so the big move from bubblegum pop into the so-called credible and more “adult” world isn’t as marked. The rigid expectations set by being a so-called Disney kid is also absent from their assessment, which makes their trajectory more simple.
It also feels like savvy young kids are becoming savvy young pop stars, perhaps influenced by chief savvy young pop star Lorde, who’s multilayered, thoughtful pop not only belies her years but is also enhanced during her interviews, betraying something that was once pop’s former kryptonite: honest opinions.
We now have a slew of young pop stars – some of whom seem to exist outside of mainstream media’s attention - using the internet to connect directly to their fans and speak to them in an open way. For example, there’s 16-year-old Shawn Mendes, who built his fanbase after uploading six-second covers of other people’s songs on Vine. His debut album, Handwritten, recently topped the US charts. The 20-year-old Halsey – who’s steadily fostered her fanbase via Twitter – recently scored a massive US hit with her debut album, Badlands, despite barely any radio airplay. Then there’s 20-year-old Troye Sivan who is part of a wave of YouTubers revealing a talent outside of just sitting in front of a web cam creating content. With a pop sound every bit as mature, complex and enrapturing as Lorde, his new EP Wild is currently sitting pretty in the top five on both sides of the Atlantic.
This direct dialogue with fans (Sivan has over 3.5m subscribers) also means that there’s a genuine connection. Fans know what to expect from Sivan because they’re of a similar age and have, albeit in an accelerated space of time, grown up with him. When he announced he was gay, it wasn’t as part of a newspaper front-page splash or to usher in a new, more mature era; it was in a video he’d filmed on his YouTube channel. The future of pop is now governed by outspoken young artists who understand the power and reach of social media especially. The 19-year-old R&B singer Zendaya – who is the closest to the old guard, having starred in three Disney TV shows – recently defended herself against Fashion Police host Giuliana Rancic after Rancic said she imagined a dreadlocked Zendaya, who was on the Oscars red carpet at the time, smelled of “patchouli oil, or weed”. Unafraid to call her out, Zendaya’s mature response was retweeted over 82,000 times. Also when 17-year-old Swedish future superstar Zara Larsson posted a picture of her leg with a condom stretched over it and the caption “To all the guys saying ‘my dick is too big for condoms’ TAKE A SEAT” on Instagram the honesty reflected how fans her age speak. It feels like the barriers between artist and fan are lifting, which in turn means any shifts in musical style or attitude are usually prefaced on social media. Miley fans with a passing interest in her Instagram wouldn’t have been shocked by her making an album with Wayne Coyne, for example.
But perhaps pop’s most interesting story of a star surging through adolescence is that of Willow Smith. An accelerated reflection of her own audience’s constantly shifting music tastes and the way in which they find music online, the 14-year-old has gone from pure pop (2010’s still incredible Whip My Hair) to Tune-Yards-inspired experiments such as recent single F Q-C # 7 in the space of four years. Stylish (she’s currently on the cover of i-D), precocious (this interview with her brother Jaden is quite something) and talented, Willow Smith represents how the sudden coming-of-age moment of old is now just an ever shifting, much more self-controlled and fan-including process that needn’t be so shocking.
