Buyer beware as Grimes sells her soul
As the world implodes, Grimes has dreamed up an explosive stunt: she is selling her soul.
Personally, I thought she already sold her soul to the Beelzebub of Bad Baby Names after she and boyfriend Elon Musk recently welcomed their first child. Saddling a newborn human with the name X Æ A-Xii? That’s like trying to teach your cat Morse code. The only reaction anyone will ever have is, “Why?”
But let’s stay on topic. Break out the chequebooks. Grimes is selling her soul to the highest bidder.
The Canadian singer’s debut art collection is now online at two Los Angeles galleries, including the Maccarone. The artworks include items you might expect. There are “Original Drawings,” “Failed Album Cover Prints” and “WarNymph Photographs,” all of which remind me of the moody goths in my high school art class who used to sketch angels and demons on their army-surplus backpacks while blasting the Smiths on Sony Walkmans.
But as you peruse the “limited edition” pieces, there is one exhibit that is either celebrity trolling at its finest or proof Grimes has lost her mind, which may well be up for grabs by 2022.
The exhibit is called “Selling Out.” And it is described as follows: “Selling Out is executed as a contract in which Grimes sells a fraction of her soul, formalizing the idea that every time an artist sells a piece of their art, part of the soul is sold with it. The purchaser will enter into a contractual agreement that outlines the terms of ownership and ultimately the connection to the joy of artistic expression.”
Not since that Italian rascal sold a banana duct-taped to a wall for $120K have I been this baffled.
In a recent interview with Bloomberg, Grimes explained putting her soul on the open market.
“I didn’t want anyone to buy it, so I said we should just make it $10 million and then it probably won’t sell.”
Confused? Me too. For example, I don’t want anyone to buy my house. Sure, I could list it for $1 trillion and safely get zero offers. Or I could just, you know, not sell my house.
But the more Grimes pondered unloading her soul, the more she loved the idea.
“The deeper we got with it, the more philosophically interesting it became,” she told Bloomberg. “Also, I really wanted to collaborate with my lawyer on art. The idea of fantastical art in the form of legal documents just seems very intriguing to me.”
Fair enough. But if that’s true, maybe just wait until X Æ A-Xii (formerly X Æ A-12) takes you and Elon to court and sues over his ridiculous name that brought noogies and atomic wedgies every day of middle school? The legal documents in that case will be positively Picasso. Also, beyond her strange notions of art, I worry about Grimes’ self-esteem.
Think about it. She originally priced her soul at $10 million. That’s actually a steal for a spiritual abstraction that can transcend time and is metaphysically creative. But then she got scared off by the global pandemic and economic downturn and discounted her soul, making it a “Best Offer,” as if her soul was a used camping stove on eBay.
And what is the exact “fraction” that goes to the purchaser? Is it 75 per cent of her soul? Is it 0.0001 per cent? And what is the purchaser expected to fulfil as part of this “contractual agreement”? If I end up owning a part of her soul, does that mean I am legally cast into X Æ A-Xii’s diaper-changing rotation — I would just call him Billy — or listening to Elon ramble incoherently about his plans to build a Jurassic Park on Mars? Do I have to dye my hair or get a tattoo? Do I have to fire up my vintage Roland keyboard and co-write electronic pop songs?
I reached out to the Maccarone gallery to seek more details on soul percentage and contract obligations.
I did not hear back, probably because I foolishly tacked on a jokey postscript with a formal barter offer: I’d assume a fraction of Grimes’ soul in exchange for all of my existential angst. I’d also throw in a few boxes of KD.
By the way, does anyone want to buy my paranoia? I offer layaway and free shipping.
What I find most disturbing about Grimes vying to turn her soul into valuable art, or a PR stunt, is that if successful other celebrities will soon monetize intangibles that are neither goods nor services. What’s next? Is Beyoncé going to auction off a controlling stake in her Queen Bey Vibes? Is Pete Davidson going to lease out his alleged BDE? Do we want to live in a world where Kevin Hart is marketing mojo or Billie Eilish is bottling brooding?
So if you’re really considering making an offer to Grimes, all I can say is buyer beware.
Caveat emptor. Anyone selling a soul probably doesn’t have one left to sell.
But during this bonkers time, there are a lot of souls that do need your help.