Becoming reacquainted with hatred, Part 1

So recently 105.9 FM has rebranded and become another "Lite" rock station. I think their tag line is "Because the world doesn't have enough crap in it(TM)." So now Chicagoland has three--count 'em--THREE "Lite" rock stations. Why do I know this?

Because "the girls"* in my office have started listening to it.

I have my own office at work, meaning that I have 4 walls and a door (which I rarely close.) But no matter, because when I'm in my office, I cannot hear their music, mostly due to the fact that I'm listening to my own. However, when I walk OUT of my office to grab something that I printed or to fax something or to go back into the shop or whatever, I can hear the Liteness emanating Litely from their corner.

Man, there are some BAD songs. I mean, like REALLY bad. Stuff I had forgotten about. Or maybe blocked out.

For as long as I can remember, I have when prompted gladly reported that my least favorite song of all time is "(I've Had) The Time of My Life," cutesy parentheses and all, by Bill Medley and Jennifer Warner, made famous by, of course, "Dirty (Dancing)."

(My wife brings up an cogent argument: that "She's Like the Wind," by The Swayz, may in fact be a worse song. To that, I refute thusly: yes, it IS a worse song, but it is also HILARIOUS in its striking putridity, albeit unintentionally so. "Time of My Life" is NOT funny, even in the least, and has absolutely no merit whatsoever: musical, comical, musicomical, or otherwise.)

Now, however, after having been periodically subjected to little bits of terrible, terrible songs on and off for the last 3 weeks or so, I may have to rethink this, this quick-shot, ardent declaration of odium. And trust me: I'm not a "hater." (“Hatah?”) I can freely and unequivocally admit when a song or songs by some uncool artist are good and similarly I can convincingly assert when some well-respected (or even ironically hip) artist's songs are shitty.

For instance, I actually like a Britney Spears song. "Toxic." Heard it? It's a GOOD SONG. I don’t particular care for her performance of it but I think that the song itself is an interesting, well-written song.

Similarly, I think Journey SUCKS. It's cool for some reason in the late aughts to embrace the over-the-top arena rock sound of these guys, but I think it's the musical equivalent of going to a bar and paying $4 for a can of PBR. It's fucking SWILL, people. Just because the guy wearing skinny jeans and egregiously over-paying for it thinks it's cool doesn't mean it is. It just means you look like a clown drinking your shitty clown beer. Fucking clown.

Anyway...

Based on the last 4 weeks of subjection to the lowest of the low, the most banal of the banal, supremely inane of the supremely inane, I list below what I think are some of the worst songs known to humankind, in no particular order. I comment when compelled. Please free to make suggestions of your own or comments on those which I have noted. Bare in mind that I consider these "terrible" songs. Not "songs that need to be retired from circulation." (Although since they are terrible, they can in fact be retired. Wouldn't bother me.) The latter is another blog entry entirely, one that I'm actually working on.

"This Kiss": Faith Hill

Ugh. I don't care how pretty she is or how nice her hair is or how gorgeous her husband is or how long that stupid black cowboy hat's been glued to his head...this is just a terrible song.

You can kiss me in the moonlight
On the rooftop under the sky
You can kiss me with the windows open
While the rain comes pouring inside
Kiss me in sweet slow motion
Let’s let every thing slide
You got me floating, you got me flying

Good gravy, that's awful. It's almost as if we haven't gotten any farther than Dick and Jane: "See Dick. See Dick kiss Jane. See Dick kiss Jane in a house. See Dick kiss Jane and a mouse."

And it’s NOT country, people. It’s POP. Just because it’s got a lap steel and a little twang doesn’t make it Hank Fucking Williams.


"Sweet Escape": Gwen Stefani / "Big Girls Don't Cry": Fergie

Is there a connection? Sure.

Both these women are in their mid-30s. Both have experienced some pretty consistent success, albeit one significantly more than the other. Hell, Stefani’s a mom, with another incredibly hip little child on the way. (I think. Is she pregnant again? I can’t remember. Everybody’s having babies in ’08.)

How can they continue making music which is only ostensibly supposed to appeal to teenagers (and really, really dumb adults) when they themselves have more in common with someone like me or someone like you than a 12 year old girl trying out for the JV basketball team? Quoth the Ferg:

And I'm gonna miss you
like a child misses their blanket
But I've got to get a move on with my life
It's time to be a big girl now
And big girls don't cry
Don't cry
Don't cry
Don't cry

Like a child misses their blanket? Time to be a BIG GIRL?!? Are you kidding me? I swear, she may as well sing the song like this:

And I'm gonna miss you
wike a chiwd misses theiw bwanket
But I've got to get a move on with my wife
It's time to be a big giw now
And big giws don't cwy
Don't cwy
Don't cwy
Don't cwy
(And then she cries. –Ed.)

To her credit, none of her “fans” realize how old she is. My niece who is 12 was literally SHOCKED when I told her that Fergie was MY AGE (and I’m of course as old as the Pyramid of Giza.) “I thought she was like 21!” Uh, no, sweet niece of mine. No.

Quoth A Girl, Just:

If I could be sweet (be sweet)
I know I've been a real bad girl (bad girl)
I didn't mean for you to get hurt 'soever,
We can make it better
And tell me boy, now wouldn't that be sweet?
Sweet escape

Move over, Coleridge! Go fuck yourself, DANTE!

How about making music for grown ups?


“La Vida Loca” : Ricky Martin

What’s sad is that—when you think about it—this was the song that ushered in the mainstream Latin explosion of the late 90s. Que calor!

It gives Latin music a bad name, unless Latin is Spanish for “complete dog shit,” in which case this would give Latin music the perfect name.


“Anything by Bon Jovi After 1990” : Bon Jovi

I’m no fan of Mr. Buongiovi and his Merry Band of Hirsute Dirt People. But the chicks like “Slippery When Wet,” so I’ll let ‘em have it. Yeah, I’m cool like that.

But anything else is pretty ghastly. And now? Hell, JonBon can BARELY sing. I was in the car the other day flipping around and I stumbled upon a Bon Jovi “country” song. I am going to write that again so there’s no mistaking my meaning: I was in the car the other day flipping around and I stumbled upon a Bon Jovi “country” song. I had to pull over and find some Kleenex to stuff in my ears to stop the bleeding. And I swear, this might be my favorite unintentionally hilarious couplet in all of musicdom:

When the world gets in my face
I say, “Have a nice day.”

That’s telling that world! You go, girl!

Jon: you’re a handsome(ish) guy with an impressive helmet-like head of hair, eerily like that of a female sportscaster. Ritchie: you divorced Heather Locklear and immediately starting banging her best friend, Denise Richard. Drummer, Keyboard Player and Possible Rhythm Guitarist: uh, you’re a coupla dudes. Playing music. And one of you has really kinky longish blonde locks like a fair-haired Sideshow Bob. Which is cool. But guys: let’s stop with the new stuff, OK? You wanna go out on the road and play “You Give Love a Bad Name” and have 35 year old groupies snort coke off your cocks, that’s great, and I applaud you. (**applause**) But do we all have to be subjected to BON JOVI COUNTRY? You’re from fucking Jersey, OK?

Oh, and have a nice day.


"The Hollywood Casino Theme Song" : Shit, I don't know...Hilter? Whatever. Someone fucking evil

Simply the best!
Hollywood Casino beats all the rest
Now it's better than any place
Any place in the Chicagoland
Hollywood is the BEST!

The muthafuckin' best, y'all!



“Can You Feel the Love Tonight” : Elton John

No. No, Elton, I cannot feel the love. Tonight. Not tonight. Not tomorrow night. What I CAN feel, however, is the wind from the trail of $100 bills flying in your pants.

This country went ape-poopy (lion-poopy?) over “The Lion King,” and one would think that the Lion King Fever would have subsided by now to make way for Pochahontas Rubella or Finding Nemo Blocking My Colon, but we have a “Lion King” musical that’s been playing for like 10,000 years all over the country. So I guess we all shed a little Lion Tear for Simba when his Dad buys it hyena-style every time we hear this song.

Does anyone else find Elton’s use of the word “vagabond” a little grating, too, while we’re at it? As far as I’m concerned, there are only 3 people who can get away with using the word “vagabond” in a song without sounding like an idiot:

1. Bob Dylan
2. Tom Waits
3. Johnny Cash

So that’s that.


“Tell It To My Heart”: Taylor Dayne

I’m kind of at a loss. The lyrics are your run of the mill drivel so it doesn’t make sense to post anything here. And you already know is: is it love or just a game?

I guess we’ll never know. What I do know is that this song makes me want to run through the glass front of my office to end my misery.


And the final two:

“Man! I Feel Like a Woman!” : Shania Twain

I'm going out tonight--I'm feelin' alright
Gonna let it all hang out
Wanna make some noise--really raise my voice
Yeah, I wanna scream and shout
No inhibitions--make no conditions
Get a little outta line
I ain't gonna act politically correct
I only wanna have a good time

Hey, I hear that. I also don’t want to act politically correct (unlike the fucking JEWS [Kidding! --Ed.]) and I also enjoy having good times. Good times are…good. Times. Moving on…

The best thing about being a woman
Is the prerogative to have a little fun (fun, fun)

Really? I thought it was the boobs. Silly me. (ASIDE: Does anyone find the spelling of the word “prerogative” just ridiculous, like some asshole said “Hey, let’s really fuck with them and throw an extra “R” in there!”? Well, I do.)

Oh, oh, oh, go totally crazy--forget I'm a lady
Men's shirts--short skirts
Oh, oh, oh, really go wild--yeah, doin' it in style
Oh, oh, oh, get in the action--feel the attraction
Color my hair--do what I dare
Oh, oh, oh, I wanna be free--yeah, to feel the way I feel
Man! I feel like a woman!

This is where she looses me. I don’t get it. It might be the tangential and half-assed reference to cross-dressing; it might be the “color my hair” line. What’s being said here, exactly? She wants to feel like a woman? Great! Go ahead, honey. Feel away. That she still just wants to have a good time? Fine. Whoop it up.

The girls need a break--tonight we're gonna take
The chance to get out on the town
We don't need romance--we only wanna dance
We're gonna let our hair hang down

Ah ha. Okay. This is some spurious attempt to imply that a woman doesn’t need a man to be a woman. I guess. And it’s cute because she says “Man!” before she says “I feel like a woman!” Get it?!?

Ladies, I implore you: you want to feel like women? You want to listen to someone who’ll tell you that the last thing on earth you need to feel like a woman is a man (which is true)? Great. Listen to:

Billie Holiday
Joni Mitchell
Liz Phair
Amy Winehouse
Neko Case
Alison Krauss

Among others. You’re welcome.


“That Don’t Impress Me Much”: Shania, again

Guh. Guuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. GUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

Okay, so you're Brad Pitt
That don't impress me much
So you got the looks but have you got the touch
Don't get me wrong, yeah
I think you're alright
But that won't keep me warm in the middle of the night
That don't impress me much

Lady, are you kidding me? I’m pretty fucking impressed by Brad Pitt, OK? I think he’d keep me nice and warm at night. Am I right, fellas? Fellas?!? (**crickets**)

Anyhoodilydoodle, Shania basically states within the three minutes and 30 some-odd seconds that is the Rattan death march of this song that she’s not impressed by:

1: Brad Pitt
2: Rocket scientists
3: Guys with cars
4: Guys who carry combs in their pockets (she’s got us there!)
5: Cool guys

Well…then WHAT DO YOU WANT?!? Let’s see, based on the list above which outlines in grave detail that by which you are summarily UNimpressed, it would then stand to reason that your ideal (aka “impressive”) man would be:

1: This guy http://images.mygirlyspace.com/myspacegraphics/images/graphics/prod_228_5900.jpg
2: Who works at Arby’s
3: And rides a pogo stick to work
4: And who doesn’t carry a comb with him
5: And who is very, very uncool…like a nerd even!

Congratulations, Shania. You married him! http://www.robertjohnmuttlange.com/mutt_lange_3.jpeg

I think this is my least favorite song of all time now. Thanks, Shania. I’m sure my future kid will manage to find this out and torture me with it.



*I am not some anachronistic pig who thinks that all women are "broads" or "girls" and like to be slapped on the tush and called "doll." Some do, however, and those women are AWESOME. But that's beside the point, I suppose. EVERYONE in my office calls them "the girls," even though they are 31 and 28, respectively. My boss calls them "the girls," T calls them "the girls,"...hell, I think they call themselves "the girls." So I'm not going to fight it anymore. Now get me a cup of coffee, doll. **swat** And wear skirts more often. You look better in skirts.