So this happened?
I’ll be honest with you, I love Michael Cera‘s music. I do. I’m a Cera fan. For my money, I don’t know if it gets any better than when he wears sweaters and plays guitar.
But here the 27-year-old hangs with cool teen Willow Smith (she’s 15) and lends his name to an absurd lullaby that finds Smith so far in left field she’s in position to catch a Nolan Arenado dinger off the wall.
At least it’s over in under two minutes.
“I am kind of seeing a yellow hue, the shape is kind of nebulous. It’s warm,” Willow posits. “It feels like it’s trying to tell me something.”
It’s wonderful that a Hollywood child has the time and space to find her quirks, surf the Web, and evolve from the breakneck pop of 2011’s “Whip My Hair.” She’s an artistically minded individual with encouraging parents.
But sometimes experimental bedroom pop is uselessly dense and kiddie-pool deep.
Pure, uncut internet. Straight to your inbox.