With “Despacito,” Justin Bieber Has Finally Won Over this Longtime Critic

Once upon a time, I was in middle school, desperate to prove my place among the vicious social circles of self-important tween boys.  Justin Bieber had just released his first megahit, “Baby.”  All the girls were listening to it, professing their crushes on him and his big flap of puppy-dog hair.  My boys and I, jealous for their attention, began to mercilessly mock him, using “Baby” as the butt of pretty much every joke we made about pretty much everything.  Even when the Beebs pivoted intentionally towards a more “adult” sound (after all, his prepubescent pipes couldn’t last forever), I laughed him off.  And after he got plastered all over the tabloids, arrested for drinking and driving and partying like a nut, seeing his life fall apart like the broken hearts he wrote about (including Selena’s… whoops I went there), I dismissed him entirely as just another teen pop star gone off the wayside.  Think a male Miley Cyrus.  I smh’ed and lamented the sordid state of teen celebrity culture.  I prayed that God would rapture us quickly so we wouldn’t have to witness the inevitable Justin Bieber / Jaden Smith entitled-rich-kids collab (oh wait… they already did that in a “Never Say Never” remix… and I never want to hear it again).

Then Justin released probably the most surprising album, personally, in the past five years: his tour de force, Purpose (Deluxe).  At first, I greeted Purpose with the same amount of skepticism as I had everything else he had written up to this point.  Then I heard “What Do U Mean” on the radio.  I was like “holy crap, who’s this?”  When I realized it was none less than the Beebs himself, I felt an entire sector of my brain crumble into the nether, Inside Out-like.  My childhood was bashing Bieber at school, bashing Bieber playing video games, bashing Bieber at church… and now he dares to release something catchy and appealing to me and my world spun right round.  But it was undeniable: “What Do U Mean?” is sweet, electronically-tinged, and especially beautiful on acoustic – and Justin’s supple and breathy vocals add, rather than detract, to its production.

Almost as if hoping for this to be an aberration, I listened to Purpose by myself at a fitness center in my dad’s apartment in Baltimore, red-faced, hoping no one would step in and see me even for the miniscule possibility that they would catch me listening to Beebs.  I was stupefied.  “Sorry” was an exercise in pop engineering at its finest.  “The Feeling” with Halsey (of “Closer” fame) experimented successfully with lush atmospherics and sky-soaring duet vocals.  And my favorite cut of them all, the silky-savage “Love Yourself,” is a total roast disguised as a feel-good positivity song.  Its vicious satire not only of the poor girl he’s singing about but also cheesy positivity songs in general.  “Love Yourself” is the ultimate in lyrical genius, mixing with a minimalist texture that grows with every listen.  One can almost hear him growl under those husky pipes.  Well done, Beebs.

But it wasn’t until a couple days ago when Justin forced his way into my life again, this time in his sultry new remix of a Latin jam, “Despacito” (by Luis Fonsi feat. Daddy Yankee and Justin Bieber).  YOU HAVE TO LISTEN TO THIS SONG.  Honestly, here’s the link.  Reggaeton in essence and urban in production, Bieber shows off his Spanish vibes in this song to smooth thrills and seductive heights.  He sings:

Come and move that in my direction

So thankful for that, it’s such a blessin’, yeah

With a hook so cool and infused with suaveness, I can’t help but dance a little, the way I always do when Justin Timberlake’s “Mirrors” comes on.  When I compare anything to the finest song in the world, “Mirrors,” you know you’re doing a good job.

I have to hand it to you, Beebs.  You were cynically typecast as a tween-pop idol-turned debauched partyboy, and you turned even that around to release some of the most innovative singles that have touched my ears.  “Love Yourself” and “Sorry.” “What Do U Mean.”  And now, the summer’s hottest new jam, “Despacito.”  I’ve been spinning this song twenty times since I was introduced to it.  This thing is spicier than Sean Spicer, y’all.  Justin Bieber, the singer who I had grown up with and relentlessly criticized most of my life, has dragged me, kicking and screaming, into this awkward, reluctant fandom, one that doesn’t feel right and yet one that I can’t deny.  His music has emerged from being panned by the men of my generation to becoming the club jam we listen to on the dancefloor and the radio.  Yes, this is the day I admit it, but you can officially call me a fan.

Dare I say, a Belieber.

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