Upon release, critics were divided. Rolling Stone called it “aggressively dumb,” while The Guardian praised its “ridiculous, unstoppable energy.” In retrospect, “#thatPOWER” is neither high art nor trash; it is a perfect time capsule. It predicted the rise of “hype house” culture, TikTok anthems, and the modern athlete’s pre-game ritual of listening to aggressive, ego-boosting trap music. The song’s weakness—its shallow lyrical depth (the verses recycle clichés about flying and falling)—is also its strength. It is not meant to be analyzed on a page; it is meant to be felt in a stadium.
“#thatPOWER” is a flawed, brilliant, and noisy argument about the nature of contemporary agency. will.i.am and Justin Bieber posit that in a world of infinite scrolling, power is the ability to stop the scroll—to command attention, to feel the bass in your chest, to make the choir sing your name. The song acknowledges the absurdity of hashtag activism and corporate-sponsored confidence, yet it chooses to dance anyway. Ultimately, “#thatPOWER” suggests that even manufactured power, if loud enough and believed in hard enough, can become real. In the end, the question “Is that the power?” is answered by the volume of the crowd. And the crowd, in 2013, was deafening. will.i.am feat. Justin Bieber - thatPOWER -Bea...
The title “#thatPOWER” is the essay’s most critical semiotic clue. By including the hash symbol in the song’s title (and spelling it with a capital ‘P’), will.i.am literalizes the idea that in the 21st century, power is a trending topic. The song’s lyrics— “There’s a power in the crowd / When you hear the f---ing sound” —suggest a democratic, populist energy. Yet, there is a cynical undercurrent: the song was used extensively in commercials for the 2013 NBA Playoffs and the Beats by Dre Pill speaker. Consequently, “#thatPOWER” became an advertisement for itself. The song’s message (believe in yourself) is inextricably tied to consumerism (buy the speaker, use the hashtag). This is not a flaw but a feature of the era: will.i.am openly celebrates the commodification of inspiration. Upon release, critics were divided
Casting Justin Bieber as the featured vocalist was a strategic and thematic masterstroke. In 2013, Bieber was at the precipice of his “bad boy” transition, moving away from the innocent “Baby” image toward a more aggressive, adult persona. In “#thatPOWER,” he sings lines like, “I’m the king of the present / Future ain’t listening.” Here, Bieber is not the heartthrob but the gladiator . He adopts a raspy, shout-sung delivery that feels desperate and determined. This performance aligns with the song’s central metaphor: that power is not given but taken. Bieber’s presence legitimizes the track’s target audience—young people who feel dismissed by older generations. He represents the power of the “now,” the viral moment, the tweet that can change the conversation. rather than letting it replace emotion.
In the landscape of early 2010s pop music, few tracks capture the chaotic, digitized exuberance of the era quite like will.i.am’s “#thatPOWER,” featuring a then-teenage Justin Bieber. Released in 2013 as part of will.i.am’s solo album #willpower , the song is not merely a club anthem; it is a cultural artifact that explores the duality of modern fame—specifically, the tension between internal personal strength and external digital validation. Through its aggressive electronic production, anthemic chorus, and the symbolic casting of Bieber as the choir boy turned stadium rocker, “#thatPOWER” offers a thesis on how Millennial and Gen Z culture began equating self-worth with performance.
Musically, “#thatPOWER” is a masterclass in will.i.am’s post-Black Eyed Peas production style. The track is built on a pounding four-on-the-floor beat, a squelching electro-synth bassline, and the ubiquitous “drop” that defined EDM-infused pop. However, the song’s most striking feature is its use of a live stadium choir chanting the hook: “Is that the power? Is that the power?” This juxtaposition—robotic synthesizers versus human vocal masses—creates a paradox. The machine-like beat represents the cold, algorithm-driven world of social media, while the choir represents the ancient human need for communal affirmation. will.i.am argues that true “power” is found by bridging these two worlds: using technology as a tool to amplify human energy, rather than letting it replace emotion.