The Not-Random Anti-Ten Plus One
Apropos of nothing at all, here is a list of 11 songs that you will never, ever find on my iPod or in my CD collection. If I am a guest in your home or you happen to find me driving along with you in your car somewhere, please, please, please, I beg of you, do NOT ever play any one (or more) of these songs in my presence. Seriously. Please. Because I am one opinionated motherfucker who is not afraid to voice my displeasure about certain things, and I will make your life miserable if you do. So just don't. All right? Thanks.
1. Hotel California by The Eagles. The Dude said it best: "Come on, man. I had a rough night and I hate the fuckin' Eagles, man!" Yeah. What he said. And I especially hate this song. Because once I hear it, it spends the next three days etched into my brain and repeating itself on an endless sound loop in my head, and I. Just. Fucking. Hate. It. Get out of there! Go away! If I never hear this song again in my life, I will already have heard it a thousand times too many.
2. Black Water by the Doobie Brothers. Another tune plant that is sooooo unwelcome and takes days to go away. The '70s are over; stop playing this song on the radio. All of you. You know who I mean. I don't wanna hear some Dixieland, pretty mama, won't you take me by the ears and shake this fucking song out of my head! Please?
3. More Than a Feeling by Boston. I have heard this song more on the local Classic Rock stations in the past few years than I ever did when it was first released and popular. Tom Scholz discovered that you can put an effect on an electric guitar, and, dude, it is totally bitchin'!! Uh, except when it isn't. Stop it. Cut it out. Less than a feeling. More than a numbness all along the left side of your body, so you can't feel your left ear or your toes.
4. Free Bird by Lynyrd Skynyrd. I kind of liked this song the first 60,000 times I heard it. Then, by the second week it was playing on the radio, I kind of got burned out. Not only that, but a Bic lighter burned my thumb once. Or maybe several times. And then there's the live version: "How 'bout you? Are you free as a bird, too?"
5. My Best Friend's Girl by The Cars. Benjamin Orr's voice makes me want to hurl a handful of Quaaludes and empty cocaine packets at anybody with a skinny tie and a mullet. I remember telling people in the late '70s and early '80s that I liked New Wave, and, too often, they would respond with, "Oh, so you like The Cars?" No. No, I do not like The Cars. Didn't like them then, don't like them even more now.
6. Enter Sandman by Metallica. I am a huge fan of live music. I can listen to live music of almost any genre and enjoy it. A few years ago, Metallica opened for the Rolling Stones here in San Francisco, and I thought, well, I'm not that familiar with their oeuvre, but I always like live music. So I decided I would come early, check out their act, and I expected to enjoy at least some of their songs, if not the whole set. I desperately want that ninety minutes of my life back. It's been more than five years and I still want that time back. And my memory of that Metallica show erased. I am almost willing to trade a bottle in front of me for a frontal lobotomy if it will take away the memory of that show. I fucking hate Metallica, and I didn't realize that until I saw them perform.
7. Always With Me, Always With You by Joe Satriani. I realize Joe is technically proficient, but he has absolutely zero soul. He has not played a note that moved me in any discernible way in his entire career. His high-pitched noodling has, however, driven me to fits of distraction on more than one occasion. His music makes me actively shudder. I may be mistaken, but I believe he plays at least half his notes in a register that only dogs can hear.
8. Owner of a Lonely Heart by Yes. This is the aural equivalent of a headache in my eye. The weird changes in this musical migraine and the whiny vocal just make me want to lie down in a quiet, dark room for about three days. Instead of listening to this song, can I just smack myself in the temple every five seconds with a ball peen hammer? Please? I say NO to Yes.
9. When the Lights Go Down in the City by Journey. Yes, I know this is about San Francisco. I get it. That doesn't stop it from being one of the lamest songs to ever become an anthem for any number of drunken yuppies and bridge-and-tunnel wannabes who feel compelled to sing along every time this song is played at the beginning of a fireworks display at the ballpark... or anywhere else I am unfortunate enough to be present when this load of crap starts playing. When it comes to Journey, I never started believing.
10. What I Like About You by The Romantics. Another song that I thought I might like the first two or three times I heard it... and then, later in the day, I realized the vocals were weak, the lyrics insipid and whole thing inane. Then I started hearing it a lot. And a lot more. And that was just the late '70s. Flash forward, thirty-some years later, and I'm still hearing this song on television, advertising beer, and on the radio, just... just because they hate me, I guess. What I would really like about YOU is if you could somehow make this song go away. For as long as I live. You would be my best friend forever if you could.
**Bonus** My Ding-a-Ling by Chuck Berry. I love Chuck Berry, I truly do. I hate this song. The man who wrote Johnny B. Goode, Maybelline, Rock and Roll Music, Roll Over Beethoven, Nadine, Sweet Little Sixteen, Carol, Back in the USA, School Days and SO many more seminal songs that shaped 20th Century rock and roll only scored ONE number one hit... and it was THIS lame-ass song?!? Arrrggh. You people fucking suck. All y'all. Every single one of you that bought this stupid Dr. Demento throw-away novelty piece of musical offal. I want you to play with my ding-a-ling, you bastards. And then I want you to suck a fart out of my ass for making this a number one song, while Johnny B. Goode only made it to #8. That is just wrong on every imaginable level.
Apologies as necessary to those of you who happen to agree with me, but were offended by the snark. Condolences to those of you who had one or more of your favorite songs tweaked here. Perhaps you need to reconsider.
1. Hotel California by The Eagles. The Dude said it best: "Come on, man. I had a rough night and I hate the fuckin' Eagles, man!" Yeah. What he said. And I especially hate this song. Because once I hear it, it spends the next three days etched into my brain and repeating itself on an endless sound loop in my head, and I. Just. Fucking. Hate. It. Get out of there! Go away! If I never hear this song again in my life, I will already have heard it a thousand times too many.
2. Black Water by the Doobie Brothers. Another tune plant that is sooooo unwelcome and takes days to go away. The '70s are over; stop playing this song on the radio. All of you. You know who I mean. I don't wanna hear some Dixieland, pretty mama, won't you take me by the ears and shake this fucking song out of my head! Please?
3. More Than a Feeling by Boston. I have heard this song more on the local Classic Rock stations in the past few years than I ever did when it was first released and popular. Tom Scholz discovered that you can put an effect on an electric guitar, and, dude, it is totally bitchin'!! Uh, except when it isn't. Stop it. Cut it out. Less than a feeling. More than a numbness all along the left side of your body, so you can't feel your left ear or your toes.
4. Free Bird by Lynyrd Skynyrd. I kind of liked this song the first 60,000 times I heard it. Then, by the second week it was playing on the radio, I kind of got burned out. Not only that, but a Bic lighter burned my thumb once. Or maybe several times. And then there's the live version: "How 'bout you? Are you free as a bird, too?"
5. My Best Friend's Girl by The Cars. Benjamin Orr's voice makes me want to hurl a handful of Quaaludes and empty cocaine packets at anybody with a skinny tie and a mullet. I remember telling people in the late '70s and early '80s that I liked New Wave, and, too often, they would respond with, "Oh, so you like The Cars?" No. No, I do not like The Cars. Didn't like them then, don't like them even more now.
6. Enter Sandman by Metallica. I am a huge fan of live music. I can listen to live music of almost any genre and enjoy it. A few years ago, Metallica opened for the Rolling Stones here in San Francisco, and I thought, well, I'm not that familiar with their oeuvre, but I always like live music. So I decided I would come early, check out their act, and I expected to enjoy at least some of their songs, if not the whole set. I desperately want that ninety minutes of my life back. It's been more than five years and I still want that time back. And my memory of that Metallica show erased. I am almost willing to trade a bottle in front of me for a frontal lobotomy if it will take away the memory of that show. I fucking hate Metallica, and I didn't realize that until I saw them perform.
7. Always With Me, Always With You by Joe Satriani. I realize Joe is technically proficient, but he has absolutely zero soul. He has not played a note that moved me in any discernible way in his entire career. His high-pitched noodling has, however, driven me to fits of distraction on more than one occasion. His music makes me actively shudder. I may be mistaken, but I believe he plays at least half his notes in a register that only dogs can hear.
8. Owner of a Lonely Heart by Yes. This is the aural equivalent of a headache in my eye. The weird changes in this musical migraine and the whiny vocal just make me want to lie down in a quiet, dark room for about three days. Instead of listening to this song, can I just smack myself in the temple every five seconds with a ball peen hammer? Please? I say NO to Yes.
9. When the Lights Go Down in the City by Journey. Yes, I know this is about San Francisco. I get it. That doesn't stop it from being one of the lamest songs to ever become an anthem for any number of drunken yuppies and bridge-and-tunnel wannabes who feel compelled to sing along every time this song is played at the beginning of a fireworks display at the ballpark... or anywhere else I am unfortunate enough to be present when this load of crap starts playing. When it comes to Journey, I never started believing.
10. What I Like About You by The Romantics. Another song that I thought I might like the first two or three times I heard it... and then, later in the day, I realized the vocals were weak, the lyrics insipid and whole thing inane. Then I started hearing it a lot. And a lot more. And that was just the late '70s. Flash forward, thirty-some years later, and I'm still hearing this song on television, advertising beer, and on the radio, just... just because they hate me, I guess. What I would really like about YOU is if you could somehow make this song go away. For as long as I live. You would be my best friend forever if you could.
**Bonus** My Ding-a-Ling by Chuck Berry. I love Chuck Berry, I truly do. I hate this song. The man who wrote Johnny B. Goode, Maybelline, Rock and Roll Music, Roll Over Beethoven, Nadine, Sweet Little Sixteen, Carol, Back in the USA, School Days and SO many more seminal songs that shaped 20th Century rock and roll only scored ONE number one hit... and it was THIS lame-ass song?!? Arrrggh. You people fucking suck. All y'all. Every single one of you that bought this stupid Dr. Demento throw-away novelty piece of musical offal. I want you to play with my ding-a-ling, you bastards. And then I want you to suck a fart out of my ass for making this a number one song, while Johnny B. Goode only made it to #8. That is just wrong on every imaginable level.
Apologies as necessary to those of you who happen to agree with me, but were offended by the snark. Condolences to those of you who had one or more of your favorite songs tweaked here. Perhaps you need to reconsider.
posted by Generik at 6:15 PM
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