Carrie Underwood knows a little something about big, bad breakups. And you probably know about her big, bad breakups, too, thanks to extensive—some would say invasive—tabloid and news-service coverage of this American Idol winner.
Now she’s setting her experience to music, admitting she made a relational mistake in the lyrics of “Undo It.” It’s a song that describes an experience most of us over the age of 20 have probably experienced: getting involved with someone who later did us wrong. This version of that familiar story frames the singer as a jilted girlfriend, someone who got entangled in a no-good relationship with a no-good man. “Now I only have myself to blame,” she sings, “for falling for your stupid games.”
A broken relationship is a reason to grieve, and Carrie is clearly past the denial stage. “Undo It” is equal parts anger and acceptance as she seeks to wipe memories of her former man—now just another creep on the street—out of her past, present and future: “Now your photos don’t have a picture frame/And I never say your name, and I never will/And all your things, well, I threw them in the trash/And I’m not even sad/ … You want my future, you can’t have it.”
Drastic measures? Perhaps. But sometimes drastic breakups demand such complete cleansing, and Carrie’s not afraid to whip out the industrial-strength cleaner.
As for the accompanying performance video, footage for it was mostly gathered from Carrie’s appearance in Columbus, Ohio, in early 2010. A few brief scenes allude to the them of “Undo It”—Carrie’s shown tearing up some old pictures, for instance—but the video is far more focused on her sparkly stardom than the song’s subject matter. She’s shown in a very short dress and knee-high boots, strutting on a massive multimedia stage like she owns the thing (which, of course, she probably does). Though Underwood’s duds are hardly in Lady Gaga territory, no one would likely label them conservatively modest, either.
Paul Asay has been part of the Plugged In staff since 2007, watching and reviewing roughly 15 quintillion movies and television shows. He’s written for a number of other publications, too, including Time, The Washington Post and Christianity Today. The author of several books, Paul loves to find spirituality in unexpected places, including popular entertainment, and he loves all things superhero. His vices include James Bond films, Mountain Dew and terrible B-grade movies. He’s married, has two children and a neurotic dog, runs marathons on occasion and hopes to someday own his own tuxedo. Feel free to follow him on Twitter @AsayPaul.
