In a pretty fascinating role reversal, Miley Cyrus revealed this week that, supposedly, she’s an obsessive fangirl who could “die happy” after a meet-and-greet with her favorite band, which just so happens to be…Radiohead. There are so many intriguing layers to this story, that it’s already a few days old and yet we can’t get over it. By recounting the story of how she was miserably snubbed by Radiohead after requesting to meet them at the Grammys, Miley wins the “highbrow meets lowbrow” award of the week, blowing our minds with her seemingly earnest admission that the tweeny bopper who most resembles her own Madame Tussaud’s wax figure probably sits in her trailer getting in fights with her friends about how underrated Amnesiac was.
Perhaps the most intriguing part of this whole “Miley’s on Pitchfork!” business, at least to us, is the extent to which this was met with general blogger awe, as if by admitting this she was messing up the general musical hierarchy. Miley Cyrus is a product, a pre-packaged superstar molded by Disney, and because she is Miley Cyrus, she can’t possibly listen to anything other than what her fans listen to, right? Is this like the time everyone got a bit sick reading the Nick Jonas/Elvis Costello interview? Why is this so jarring?
Listening to her upset ramblings and her croaky rendition of “Creep” actually made us, for the first time, appreciate the non-plastic version of a teen pop star. It seems as though this is just the latest (and quite sweet) hybridization of the seemingly gross commercial aspect of Miley Cyrus pop culture and its opposite, the pay-what-you-want moody genuis of Radiohead. And we better start getting used to it.