Paris Hilton is the perfect embodiment of that side of American society and culture that is bubble headed and that worships at the altar of money and celebrity. It is the culture that is also expressed in the headlines of the supermarket checkout counter tabloids, the Globes, Stars, and Enquirers, with their references to scandalized celebrities referred to by first name only ("Anna Nicole," "Brittany," "Tyra," "Jacko," "Ashton") as if we, the public, were on a first name basis with these remote figures. Being bubble headed, this culture promotes trivia and minutia over more important facts; more Americans, for example, can name the Three Stooges or recite the lyrics to the Brady Bunch song than can name their own congressperson or explain the Bill of Rights.
This interpretation of the more shallow aspects of our society, then, helps to explain the phenomenon of this record, which is purely the result of recording studio technology. Like some of the disco classics of the late 70s, this is little more than generic dance pop. As such, it's actually listenable, but in a purely mindless and innocuous way. It's much better than, say, Kelly Osbourne's equally mindless musical outbursts. If anything, it reminds me of the kinds of music that I hear when I am at the mall, which is pumped out of the mall stores' speakers, at an appropriately innocuous volume, so as to give the consumer a kind of mild pumping up so as to keep on spending. I would imagine this goes over particularly well in the mall stores frequented by mall princesses. Nevertheless, it's rather generic and empty, not unlike the "soul" of the "artist" whose name gets to be put on this. We know, though, that Paris Hilton had very little to do with making this recording, as making a recording is work, and Paris Hilton doesn't know the first thing about what it is to have to work.
Incidentally, here is Paris Hilton's website which offers links to her videos and to music clips. It pretty much speaks for itself.
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