The Kakkars' Cringefest.. Lollipop!!

I recently stumbled upon a song called “Lollipop” by sibling duo Neha and Tony Kakkar. I say “stumbled upon” because no one actively searches for this kind of experience. Ten seconds in, I had only one thought—why? Not why does this exist (that ship has sailed), but why did so many people involved wake up one morning and collectively agree that this was a good idea?

The lyrics are… ambitious. The picturisation looks like a rejected soft-drink commercial shot during a power cut. And the overall vibe feels less like a song and more like a dare someone lost.

But let’s pause the sarcasm for a moment and address the bigger picture—because the Kakkars didn’t appear out of thin air.

Neha Kakkar, undeniably, has had her moments. Songs like “Second Hand Jawaani,” “London Thumakda,” and even “Kala Chashma” (as overplayed as it became) were catchy, energetic, and fit the mood of their time. She carved a space for herself as the go-to voice for high-energy Bollywood party numbers. Credit where it’s due—those songs worked.

Tony Kakkar too has proven he can compose hooks that stick. Tracks like “Coca Cola,” “Dheeme Dheeme,” and even the guilty-pleasure disasterpieces that refuse to leave your head show that the man understands one thing very well—how to make something viral.

And therein lies the problem.

At some point, making music stopped being about melody, emotion, or even storytelling. It became a numbers game. Views. Reels. Shorts. Fifteen seconds of “catchiness” stretched mercilessly into three minutes. Lollipop feels exactly like that—a song engineered not to be heard, but to be used. As background noise for Instagram transitions where someone points at the screen aggressively.

The irony is that the siblings don’t need to do this. They’re not struggling artists clawing for relevance. They are already mainstream, already popular, already influential. Which makes the creative laziness harder to ignore.

What are they trying to prove, really? That subtlety is overrated? That lyrics no longer need meaning as long as they rhyme? That music videos must resemble a neon fever dream to survive the algorithm?

The most baffling part is the audience response. Or rather, the lack of resistance. Somewhere along the way, we collectively lowered the bar so much that now, anything that has a beat, some skin show, and a vaguely suggestive word repeated 47 times qualifies as a “banger.” To those who genuinely enjoy this genre—no judgment, but maybe… get yourselves tested for COVID. Loss of taste is a known symptom.

This isn’t a moral lecture. Music doesn’t need to be classical or poetic all the time. Fun, frivolous songs have always existed. But even nonsense needs effort. Even trash needs craftsmanship. There’s a difference between playful and careless, between catchy and cringeworthy.

Lollipop doesn’t feel like art that accidentally turned bad. It feels like content that was never trying in the first place.

And that’s the real disappointment—not that the song exists, but that artists with proven talent chose convenience over creativity. When you have a platform this big, mediocrity isn’t harmless. It sets trends. It normalizes laziness.

So yes, why?

Because they can.

Because it will trend.

Because we will talk about it.

And sadly, that might be the only answer that matters anymore.