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Issue 3: All the Gold in the World

All the Gold in the World

Once upon a time I had plenty of nothing,
which was fine with me
because I had rhythm, music, love,
the sun, the stars, and the moon above,
had the clear blue sky and the deep blue sea.
That was when the best things in life were free.
— Madonna, More

But I, being poor, have only my dreams…
— W.B. Yeats, Aedh Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven

When a pop star shares the story of their rags-to-riches trajectory, they want you to know just how hard they worked to get where they are. They’re a self-made survivor of artistic struggle and beating the odds, determined to be the one star that rises above all the other wannabes. Their journey is meant to inspire, to remind us that starting with almost nothing shouldn’t hold you back from your dreams of pop superstardom.

Before she became the Queen of Pop, Madonna arrived in New York City in 1978 with just $35 in her pocket and a thirst for fame. Like many young, aspirational artists she hustled and chased every opportunity to be an actress, dancer, or singer, while holding down a string of menial jobs to get by. It paid off: within a few years she had a record deal and began releasing the first of many hit singles.

Although she had written the majority of her debut album, the first singles from follow-up Like A Virgin were penned by other songwriters, including the title track and Material Girl, a playful bop singing the praises of materialism and boys “with the cold hard cash.” Parts of its video pay homage to another ode to wanting the best things in life: Marilyn Monroe’s performance of Diamonds Are A Girl’s Best Friend from Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. Madonna has said she agreed to record Material Girl because the song’s “ironic and provocative” message spoke to her at the time as an aspiring young singer, even though its message of materialism was antithetical to her own worldview.

Over the years, Madonna has spoken of the frustration of having the nickname “Material Girl” ascribed to her following the song’s success. Perhaps it’s because of this that, although she has examined her career and success through song (see, for example, American Life, Let It Will Be and Iconic), she has shied away from singing further about wealth and materialism. One exception is the campy musical number More from I’m Breathless, the soundtrack to the 1990 film Dick Tracy in which she starred as lounge singer Breathless Mahoney. Coincidentally, she also had no hand in writing More—it was one of three songs written for her to perform in the film by musical theatre legend Stephen Sondheim. Like Material Girl, More sees Madonna praising a life lived in luxury, tongue firmly in cheek, while arguing that accumulation of wealth isn’t greed, it’s just common sense (“Remember Mother Hubbard?”).

For some pop artists, the point of singing about money isn’t to critique capitalism or to highlight wealth disparity. Rather, it’s to use money and wealth as a symbol or proof of their hard work and success. It’s the reward for being the underdog and shattering expectations, showing your critics or haters that you’ve hustled harder and can afford to party just as hard. Why should we begrudge someone for being ambitious and successful?

There is, unsurprisingly, a double standard at play when female pop artists’ songs about money are often scrutinised more harshly by critics or fans—it’s acceptable for men to brag about their wealth, but it’s tacky or superficial when women do it (“If I was out flashing my dollars, I’d be a bitch not a baller” — Taylor Swift, The Man). When Destiny’s Child released Bills, Bills, Bills in 1999, they had to address misinterpretations of the song and to clarify its intent—it wasn’t about finding a man to pay their bills, it was about calling out a man for taking advantage of them. The following year, the group released Independent Women Part 1, written by lead singer Beyoncé. Although it was even more direct in its messaging (“I worked hard and sacrificed to get what I get / Ladies, it ain't easy being independent”), the song was still criticised for using wealth as a marker of female autonomy. NME reviewed the song’s production positively, but remarked, “the girls have got it a little wrong—measuring their independence by the glint of their jewellery.”

However, this hasn’t stopped female pop artists from singing about wealth or using the topic of money in their songs as another expression of female empowerment, reinforcing their financial independence, and validating their own contributions to their success. Over the past two decades, Beyoncé has continued to sing about money as a means of asserting her position as a successful woman and to respectfully clap back at critics: “Always stay gracious / Best revenge is your paper.” This sentiment has been embraced by many younger female pop stars, from Ariana Grande (“Write my own checks like I write what I sing”) to Rihanna (“Bitch better have my money / Pay me what you owe me”). In some cases, pop stars are also quick to point out that their wealth hasn’t changed them—they “stayed grounded as the amounts roll[ed] in” (Jenny from the Block, Jennifer Lopez) or they “still go to Taco Bell drive-through, raw as hell” (Glamorous, Fergie). See—they’re just like us! But with more money.

It’s fair to say it’s often hard to tell whether these claims of being humble and down-to-earth are genuine or contrived, especially in this age of carefully curated social media, where the occasional display of relatability is met with wariness or derision. Even the most popular stars at the moment aren’t immune to criticism despite their positive contributions to other parts of society: Taylor Swift, now officially a billionaire, has copped flak for the excessive use of her private jet, and Jay-Z and Beyoncé received backlash for their partnership with luxury brand Tiffany & Co, particularly when the racial wealth gap is widening in America and around the world.

Many consider the existence of billionaires as a failure of policies and economic systems that clearly only exist to benefit the few, not the many. Fans and pop culture commentators have become more critical of how celebrities are making and spending their money, so when pop stars reach this level of wealth, the goodwill they’ve built up over their career begins to crack. Over the last few years a popular response to articles and social media posts about celebrity displays of wealth is a variation of the phrase “This is the type of greed they talk about in the Bible.” Even though it’s often used ironically or humorously, it does suggest that attitudes to celebrity wealth are changing. We want our pop stars to succeed and to be recognised for their hard work, but where do we draw the line?

Check out Chris’s dollar-themed playlist!

Chris Tse is the New Zealand Poet Laureate for 2022-25. He is the author of three poetry collections published by Auckland University Press: How to be Dead in a Year of Snakes, HE’S SO MASC, and Super Model Minority. Chris lives and works in Te Whanganui-a-Tara.