Mariah Carey – Get Your Number

In a world where Charlotte Church is changing her name to Charlotte Bordello (and swearing like a thirsty trooper); and in an era when the Welsh Boys Choir is in the studio doing an album of Notorious Big covers, at least we have Mariah Carey. Mariah, for the best part of 38 and half years has been singing her quaint little pop songs that are charmingly choc-topped with winsome smiles, coquettish glances and cute, PG-Rated wholesomeness.

Then there’s this latest abomination — Get Your Number.
Evidently, since I last checked, the world has gone completely mad. Mariah is no longer the unattainable girl next door, she’s some sort of tramp on the pull.
Check out the opening line of Get Your Number (delivered by some generic homeboy): “You know, it’s crazy. I’ve always wanted a girl like you. A fine Muthaf—er… Can I get ya number?”
Nice work Homie. Smo-o-o-o-the. But hardly Cosby Show banter.
The other non-negotiable staple of Mariah’s pop canon are the dog-whistle vocal gymnastics — regardless of the tune, you could be absolutely guaranteed that Mariah would find an opportunity to squeeze in some hypersonic hemi-demi-semi-quavers.
Well, again, apparently since I last had a look, the world has been turned on its head. Get Your Number is resolutely sans the trademark vocal triple-pike backflips. Sure, there’s a smattering of non-verbal warblings but nothing that’ll have Rover digging his way out of the lounge room.
Thinking about it, maybe I’m barking ‘round the wrong bush entirely. Perhaps it’s simply Mariah’s advancing years that have changed her approach. One thing’s for certain, the Get Your Number video is bursting with ‘does-my-bum-look-big-in-this?’ paranoia. Why else would you surround yourself with oversized props? I mean, what better way to make yourself appear tincy-wincy — petite as a French poodle — than to share a room with a telephone the size of a double garage? Or, what better way to make your legs look like articulated chopsticks than to kick back on a 100-foot-long banquette?
Yep, the more I think about Get Your Number the more I think I have Mariah’s number… I know the game she’s playing. And I don’t like it one little bit.
Speaking of getting her number, the only redeeming feature of Get Your Number is the fact that as the video progresses… you, well, get Mariah’s number. It’s gradually revealed thanks to the careful David Blaine-like stashing of playing cards on Homeboy’s two-piece Armani. Homeboy can’t believe his luck… after all, he’s been given the secret combination to unlock the mysteries of the ‘fine Muthaf—er’ he has so eagerly aspired to. The final digits become obvious ‘864 3517’, which just leaves the area code… the three-digit combination allowing all red-blooded males to get on the blower and ask Mariah out, so they can show her what they’re ‘all about’… wait for it… wait for it…
5-5-5
Dang!

— CH.