This particular Fashion Week party was in Tribeca. Speaking of cocaine, I should reiterate that this was Fashion Week, the time in New York when Paper magazine interns really get to shine. “Exactly,” he said, seemingly pleased, which made me pleased. I responded, “You guys were pushed as The Strokes who didn’t do coke.” And when we signed with Columbia Records, some people came in and started working on a project who were like, ‘You guys are gonna be this, like, young teenage punk rock band!’” “I feel like what happened was I first started really listening to music and loving music and what I was really inspired by was Stevie Wonder, Jackson Five, The Bee Gees, kind of what my dad brought us up on. I asked Nick about whether he’d always leaned towards R&B in his heart, despite the JoBros’ positioning as Demi Lovato’s toothsome rocker pals. At one point during the interview, when I was entirely cowed into silence at just how nowhere the whole thing was going, Nick Jonas began singing Next’s ode to boner anxiety, “Too Close.” I didn’t recognize it, but both he and his team were more than pleased to explain it to me. It would have felt rapturous to be there at a new universe's God’s first yawn, but instead it just made my hands itch. Or rather, it was so self-contained as to be an entire universe unto itself, a universe wholly centered around, and birthed from, Nick Jonas’s ability to stay on point. The interview was, to be honest, awkward. Nick Jonas told me he liked my shoes-burgundy John Fluevogs, FYI-and that clearly meant enough to me that I’m bragging about it here. When you look at him, you just want to reach across the distance between yourself and the Nick Jonas sculpture and just… give it a couple hard taps. He’s sweet and ostensibly open, and you get what people mean when they describe a handsome surfer they’re dating as “soulful.” Everyone tells you there’s something go on at least two of his handlers called him “the deepest guy I know.” And, really, you hope there’s something going on fuck the hipsters and snobs-what the hell do they know, right?īut there Nick Jonas was, soft-spoken and empathy-eyed: all gloss and shell. And, really, having a cursory knowledge of pop art and pop music, you're loath to not indulge the obvious pleasures of the surface. Talking to him is like talking to a Jeff Koons sculpture you know there’s something going on-both overt partisans and detached pop “fan” intellectuals will insist on it-and to hint that there’s no “there” there is to be joyless and hopelessly square. He’s been famous since he was 15 and groomed to be famous since the age of seven. But it still feels like Nick Jonas, youngest and most often shirtless of the Jonas Brothers, inhabits a world that exists on a different vibrational pattern than the one in which you and I exist. The impenetrability of pop stars is, at this point, cliché. The famous are different they can wear fedoras.īut it’s not just the hat.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |