Folks, I’ve been in the newspaper business for about three years now, which is twenty-eight years in dog age.

So with this hefty experience under my belt, I would now like to believe that there is no headline, subheading, byline, masthead, photo, photo caption, and much more besides that can truly scare me anymore. After all, I also do recognize that I’ve come of age in such an exceptional era known as the 2020s, filled with such political, social, economic, and environmental upheaval that makes my head spin and stomach feel queasy just thinking about it.

But readers, on the 22nd night of September I was truly shocked with a capital S by an article in the Associated Press reporting that singer-songwriter Ella Langley’s track “Choosin’ Texas” has now become the longest-running No. 1 hit of all time, having spent 23 weeks on the all-genre Billboard Top 100 as of this week.

For context, this means that “Choosin’ Texas” has surpassed the records of songs by established legends such as Mariah Carey (“All I Want For Christmas Is You”, 22 weeks), Whitney Houston (“I Will Always Love You”, 14 weeks) and Los Del Rio, the Spanish pop duo behind “Macarena,” remixed by Miami-based producers Bayside Boys (14 weeks, definitely deserved a longer run in my opinion).

Listen, I may be a sensitive snowflake living inside a bubble (my air-conditioned car) but I have to say: I severely underestimated the number of times this song has been played and/or listened to by actual human beings.

Are we sure this track isn’t AI? Isn’t Ella Langley some mass ChatGPT hallucination by our evil tech overlords? I mean, she does have the exact same haircut as Lover- era Taylor Swift, which suggests a lack of imagination from Sam Altman and Co.

I’m kidding, people. I live in Southeast Georgia; of course I know who Ella Langley is. In addition to hearing about her gig at the iconic Enmarket Arena earlier this year, I regularly hear “Choosin’ Texas” every other time I start up my car and 97.3 KISS FM starts playing it on the radio every top of the hour, reminding me to fish around for my AUX cable so I can listen to my favorite comedy podcast that discusses funny Yelp reviews instead.

The AP article I read went on to speak to a Spotify executive who described “Choosin’ Texas” as a very versatile track that can “work across audiences” listening to different pre-made Spotify playlists.

“The song’s success on a playlist like “Today’s Top Hits” is an indication that this is working for audiences who are not seeking out one specific genre,” says Claire Heinichen, senior editor at Spotify.

Okay, not to sound dramatic but I think this is the end of pop culture as we know it. Why is music being reduced to mere background noise for NPCs? What happened to defining your sense of self through what albums you bought, fastidiously plastering band posters in your room and wearing merch to proudly show your allegiance to some new wave band whose song lyrics your parents can’t understand but hey, at least the guitar riffs are catchy? What happened to curating style?

With analysts like these, who needs AI? In the age of streaming and algorithms, these Top 40/ Top Whatever charts are meaningless. Any absolute random with the right combination of beats, catchy lyrics, and song length (and not to mention big label backing) can engineer a No. 1 hit song for themselves, but still have half of America asking “who the heck is that?” on social media.

What I’m saying is that there is no more monoculture. No more folks sitting around the television, watching shows on the same three channels, seeing the same stuff. In the internet age, everything is all siloed to the algorithms that we individually feed on apps like Spotify and Youtube.

Radio and broadcast television is in decline, much like newspapers. But unlike newspapers, radio stations and broadcast television aren’t graced with the presence of yours truly to help them with their problems. Sad!

Song of the Week: Bigmouth Strikes Again by The Smiths (1986)

The inspiration for my headline this week, of course. I feel like every maudlin twenty-something has to go through a Smiths phase; this is just my turn now. Fun fact: My mom calls them “Los Smiths” whenever I play their songs in my car. She likes their melodies, but can’t understand what the heck Morrissey is saying. I still kinda don’t either.

Andrea Gutierrez is the editor of the Bryan County News.