So I see Heidi Montag's album dropped a couple of weeks ago.
There will be more than a few of you who feel compelled to ask "Who?" when they hear that name. In that case, the first thing I'd like to do is welcome my Chinese readers who apparently don't have access to Google. After that, I would say just one thing to these people: leave. Leave this article at once and never return, for once you linger too long in the sunless realms of celebrity insipidity, there's no turning back. This way lies madness, or Perez Hilton. Possibly both.
Now then...Heidi -- beloved of Spencer Pratt (a name that wouldn't have been out of place in Monty Python's "Upper Class Twit of the Year" sketch), plastic surgery disaster, and "star" of MTV reality cancer The Hills -- released her album Superficial on January 12 to the sound of crickets. And not a lot of them. According to Nielsen SoundScan, the album had moved less than 1,000 units (some sources say only 658 copies have been downloaded). Put another way, that's probably less than two copies per cosmetic procedure. At this rate, she'll only need another, say, 249,500 surgeries to reach gold record status.
Yeah, I know...the revelation that a delusional airhead whose biggest accomplishment to date is becoming even more undeservedly famous than Paris Hilton may have misjudged the demand for her pop record is right there on the Celebrity No Shit spectrum alongside Clay Aiken announcing his homosexuality and 9-11 "Truther" Charlie Sheen possibly being mentally unstable. Her apparent disconnect is evident in an interview quoted in People:
"I think it's gonna do great," said Montag. "I have a million Twitter followers and they're all very excited. So that's at least a million people right there. It also takes time. I don't expect it to be instant. Maybe it's the biggest album in a couple months. Maybe it's the biggest album in a year. This is the first album of many to come. As long as I can keep affording it and keep doing it, I will because it's my love and my passion."
EW contacted Montag for comment, but her rep said she was "unavailable for interviews due to Hills filming for the next couple weeks."
Of course she was. And all this proves is that, like everyone else, a train wreck is fine to watch from afar, but no one actually wants to hear it.
Montag claims she sunk $2 million of her own money into the album. This seems hard to believe, unless she hired Baron Samedi to raise Jimi Hendrix from the dead for the guitar parts. That kind of scratch should have been able to buy her a little advertising, or at least some decent payola.
Because let's be honest, is "Superficial or "Turn Ya Head" really that much worse than the other auto-tuned crap that's currently topping the charts? The Black-Eyed Peas are so awful I can actually feel my cerebral cortex smoothing over when I listen to them, and "TiK ToK," the currentNumber One song by someone calling herself "Ke$ha" makes me want to climb up a bell tower and shoot nuns.
How does she compare to other actor/models who ill-advisedly decided to enter the music industry? I'm sure you remember a certain Don Johnson...
We Believe Local Journalism is Critical to the Life of a City
Engaging with our readers is essential to the mission of the Houston Press. Make a financial contribution or sign up for a newsletter, and help us keep telling Houston’s stories with no paywalls.
Support Our Journalism
And that's just scrapping the craptacular surface. Sure, Montag's album...isn't good, but it really doesn't compare all that unfavorably to Sabrina Salerno (warning: nipples), or Samantha Fox, or Milla Jovovich.
Okay, that's not really fair (I actually liked Milla's album), but the point stands. Further, maybe this whole enterprise was planned from start to finish. The plastic surgery, the staged photo ops, the excruciating reality show moments...maybe all of it was part of a concentrated effort to make the ultimate self-referential celebrity statement. Something so meta it can no longer be contained within this reality's normal ironic framework. In short, it was a cunning master stroke so subtle and ingenious that it obviously flew right over the heads of all you pinheads following them on Twitter.
This is what I choose to believe. Of course, I also believe in the Loch Ness monster and that I saw Elvis on I-40 outside of Memphis in 1996, so make of that what you will.