106. Men in Black

106. "Owner of a Lonely Heart" by Yes

Although much different from what Yes had recorded earlier, and much different from a lot of what they would record afterwards, 90125 was still an outstanding album. And the lead song "Owner of a Lonely Heart" just happened to hit the charts at the same time I received my last romantic rejection in high school, which for me turned it into the break-up song that I'd listen to and think, "Yes!"

Because that's the name of the band.

I'd also think, "I agree. The owner of a lonely heart is much better than a owner of a broken heart." And that thought inspired me. I was so convinced of the truthfulness of this idea that I committed myself to bachelorhood, stopped going to dances, stopped dating, and tried to focus on running track, playing in band, hanging out with the Arimo Mafia, and working on the family farm. (And by "working" I mostly mean riding my motorcycle in the 40 acres behind the house.)

In fact, I believe this was one of the last songs I played at a high school dance before I quit DJ-ing and retreated into the emotional monestary of continual angry depression. And what I mostly did while in this mind-cloister was listen to songs that reinforced my new mysogynistic attitude and promoted an extended existential crisis. During this time, this song was comfort food for me. But that's probably because I refused to contemplate the lyrics that said "take your chances win or loser" and that "there's no real reason to be lonely."

But besides the lyrics, there were other positive aspects of the song that made it enjoyable to listen to.

1. Opening rockin' guitar riff

2. Catchy bass line

3. Cowbell!

4. Lots of interesting percussion, synthesizer bits, and sound effects mixed into the music

5. Gunshot after the "eagle in the sky" line

6. Yeow! during the break

7. Interesting new (at the time) guitar solo sound

The video for this song was also interesting. Why not have a gander!




Many people dislike this video, including the band. But to my mind there are a bunch of saving graces.

First, it's all based on a Kafka book, "The Trial." And since it's Kafka, you have to expect the video to be a little freaky. Kafka's story is about a man that is arrested by an unknown authority for an unknown crime and is forced to go to trial in a court system that he can't figure out until he receives the inevitable death sentence. Yep. That pretty much sums up what it feels like be spurned by a lover and have your heart broken.

Second, it's got a fake-out opening that works well into the general theme. You're just watching a traditional music video and then...BLAMMO! You get these strange video snippets of the members of the band you were just watching turning into an eagle...and a snake...and a lizard...and cat in a bathroom. And you don't have a clue what this all means, and you want somebody to explain it to you, but nobody does, so you struggle and struggle to make sense of it, and then...

Fourth, you are suddenly transported into a surreal black-and-white story where this dude is abducted and brought to trial in an office building, where he starts to spaz out to these flashbacks of animals attacking him. And the attacks are in color, so you know there's probably some symbolism in that, and you're trying to think about that really hard because it might explain just what the hell is going on and then...

Banana, the maggot flashbacks begin. Maggots on the hand. Washing the face with maggots. Then more animal attacks. Then a naked lady in bed turns into a frog. Even more animal attacks. Maggots on the eyes (twice!), and then the guy is shoved into a black and white elevator that goes down, down, down to...

Lester, a colorized version of hell, where he gets into a fist fight with Hell's Welder, which he wins by hitting the guy right in the nards with a board or pipe or something else we can't see and then knocking him out with a single punch to the face. And he then runs away and climbs up, up, up to...

Eleventeenth, the roof of a skyscraper, where Yes surrounds him, and the guy realizes these guys are shapeshifters and are the creepy animals that have been attacking him. But Yes doesn't even touch the guy. They just stare at him while wearing black suits and ties, which turns out to be so terrifying that the only choice left to the man is to pitch himself off the skyscraper roof. As he falls, you think he turns into an eagle and flies away, but there he is going to work again (in color!), but he decides it isn't worth it (good point) and turns around and goes back home (in black and white). The end.

You confused? Me too. I've taken advanced courses in literary analysis, but the interpretation of these story elements is so--

Wait a minute!... the guy is walking on a... concrete bridge... over a brown river... and the cars are all driving in the wrong direction because they're in... London?

Oh! Now I get it! What clever symbolism! The whole thing makes complete sense!

It can only mean one thing--YES is the Walrus!

Goo-goo g'joob!

107. And now I find myself in eighty-two

107. "The Heat of the Moment" by Asia

Have you ever known one of those families that begins all of their 10 kids' first names with the same letter? My uncle Robert did that. All his kids' names began with the letter D, which meant that whenever we visited, I was the cousin most likely to be able to pass myself off as one of the family. I don't remember all their names, but I do remember David, Darryl, Daniel, Doyle, and Denise. I'm not sure what the other names were now, as it's been so long since I've seen them. But I think I can say with confidence that none of them were named Dabney, Diego, Demetrius, Desdemona, Dagwood, Desiree, Darby, Darrence, Daffodil, Daisy, Dartagnan, Dixie, Darwin, Dearg, Doris, Dharma, Deiphobus, Delbert, Delmar, Delroy, Drucilla, Demodocus, Daphne, Derwent, Derwin, Devereaux, Dillie, Dimas, Dimka, Darlene, Dino, Dmitri, Dolphus, Dawn, Domo, Donahue, Dervla, Donatello, Dontrell, Dorian, Draven, Dee Dee, Dorcus, Dordie, Dusty, or especially Draupnir. I would remember cousin Draupnir.

Now I can understand why families do this, especially families planning on having lots of kids. There's something pleasantly entertaining about hearing a long list of family names rattled off in super-rapid order. I get it.

I also get families that have all the kids names start with the same letter, but then for some really good reason, they decide to give the last kid a name with a different letter. Of course, this makes the whole experience of listing the family names more than anticlimactic letdown. It's a genuine jolt to the ol' brain! It produces a "What the--?!" effect in the listener, and a dozen questions flood the mind simultaneously, causing more than a modicum of cognitive congestion.

Did I hear that wrong?

Did they say it wrong?

Did they find a new way to spell the sound the letter makes?

Did they just try to pull my leg?

Did they run out of names that start with the letter?

Did they adopt?

Did the parents divorce and the new spouse refused to support alphabetically consistent nomenclature?

Did the child reject the name and forced everyone to call him/her by a middle name?

Did the family use the letter so much that they acquired a conditioned letter aversion?

Did they surrender the decision to name the child to a dying grandparent that named the child something else just to exact revenge upon the family for defying their original wishes to NOT start every grandchild's name with the same letter?

Did the parents forget to buckle up the child and then there was some horrible car accident in which the child was thrown through the window and the letter came clean off?

OR

Did the letter Q become unfashionable for first names and people began to mock anyone that had it at the beginning of their signature? That's what happened to the letter Q, you know. Q started out fine with names like Quin and Quinten and Quaid. But then somebody decided to create a TV show about a medical examiner named Quincy, which was a great name that everybody liked, but after seven seasons, people began to catch on that being a "medical examiner" means you poke around in dead people's bodies looking for things that don't usually belong in dead people's bodies. Although the ratings shot down, the show survived for an eight season due to a write-in campaign by Quincy's most loyal viewers. But then it was discovered his most loyal viewers were all necrophiliacs, so the show got cancelled. This association of the Quincy name with dead bodies was so strong that Quincy and all other Q-names began to fall out of general favor. The Australians tried to rescue Q with Quigley, but then somebody in Scandanavia named their kid Quimby, and that sealed Q's fate. There's just no bouncing back from a Quimby.

Yet, even with all of these questions flooding my mind at once, I still get it. As a former English teacher, and as a real bastard with a dark sense of humor, I kind of enjoy the idea of people hearing the family name list rattled off in all its alliterative glory and getting excited to see what name brings the whole thing to a satisfying linguistic climax, only to have their great expectations crushed mercilessly by an out-of-sync grapheme. That's just good clean fun!

But what I don't get--and will NEVER get--is when parents have three or four kids with names with the same first letter, but then they give the next kid in order a name with some other first letter, and then they go BACK to naming the next kid with the same letter as the first three or four kids. It's madness! Madness, I tell you!

And that brings us to the British rock band named after the continent of Asia (not to be confused with the Swedish rock band named after the continent of Europa). Rock bands often give their first album the same name as the band. So it wasn't so unusual for Asia to name their first album "Asia." Then they named their second album "Alpha," which is a somewhat cheeky name for something that comes second. But hey! We like bands with a sense of humor!

After the second album, Asia could still have named their third album pretty much anything they'd like and people wouldn't have scratched their heads over it. But Asia crossed the Rubicon and named their third album "Astra," and that made all Asia fans realize that this isn't just a naming pattern where the first letter is the same. No, no, no! To our amazement, the last letter in each name was also the same! We've got A's in front and A's in back! That's commitment! That's consistency! That's poetic!

After the third album, everyone was convinced that the rest of the band's albums would have names that start and end with the letter A. This belief became cemented in our minds as gospel truth when Asia released in order "Aqua," "Aria," and "Arena."

That's six albums in a row with the double-A pattern! So there's zero chance that the next album name won't begin and end with an A, right?

WRONG! Asia's next release is named "Rare." What the--?!

Did I hear that wrong?

Did they say it wrong?

Did they find a new way to spell the sound the letter A makes?

Did they just try to pull my leg?

Did they run out of names that start and end with the letter A?

Did they adopt?

Did the band split and the new members refused to support alphabetically consistent nomenclature?

Did the album reject its original name and forced everyone to call it by its middle name?

Did the band use the letter so much that they acquired a conditioned letter aversion?

Did they surrender the decision to name the album to a dying manager that named the album something else just to exact revenge upon the band for defying his original wishes to NOT start and end every album name with the letter A?

Did the band forget to buckle up the album and then there was some horrible touring bus accident in which the album was thrown through the window and the letter A came clean off?

OR

Did the English parliament finally accept the will of the non-rhotic English speakers and pass a law that officially establishes the letter R as both a postvocalic consonant AND a prevocalic consonant, thus wiping out the use of the letter R anytime it's next to a vowel?

No?! Really?! None of that happened, huh? They just up and named it "Rare" without anyone in British government intervening?

Bloody hell! Why didn't Asia just throw in the towel and call the album "Quimby?!"

What?! You say that this album is in reality more of a solo album by Geoff Downes and David Payne that they composed for soundtracks (part for a documentary film and part for a video game), so it's purely instrumental and generally makes for good background music? Thank you, Gary Hill of Allmusic.com, for that plagiaristic summary! Thanks for setting us straight on that. Now we can explain away the name "Rare" by recognizing that it was only two members of Asia, not the entire band, that was involved in this heinous crime of alphabetical deviance. Whew! For a moment there, I thought Asia was no longer interested in giving their albums names that begin and end with the letter A.

Oh, goody! The next studio album is titled "Aura!" Oh, frabjous A! The pattern has been reestablished, and all is right with the world. So from now on, it's agreed that Asia will go back to following the double-A naming pattern. And that's exactly what we see happen when the rest of Asia's albums are titled:

Silent Nation
Phoenix
Omega (Which is NOT their last album. Cheeky!)
XXX
Gravitas

Oh, bollucks!

I just don't get it.

We, the fans, made an extensive effort to explain away the "Rare" name so that the pattern could continue. We even considered changing the rules of English so that we could almost entirely do away with the letter R? Hell, as a sign of my own devotion to the double-A naming convention, I will now adopt that exact rule as a lifelong commitment and eliminate all use of that unspeakable symbol!

And in no way do I think this will be an easy task! Do you ealize how had it is to wite wods without the lette ?! Now I wite like Elme Fudd talks!

But this just shows how passionate Asia fans like me can be. I was willing to change the conventions of the English language to help keep up an unboken steak of what would have been the best collection of double-A album names in all of ock 'n' oll histoy! That's how much it means to me! And how do you, Asia, acknowledge that level of love and devotion? You cap all ove me! Do you think I'm just pat of a "Silent Nation?" You tease us with "Omega"--which only ends with an A. And what's with the tiple-X title?! It's ponogaphic! And that's just idiculous and wong!

Okay. I guess I don't have to get it. I just have to accept it.

And acceptance is the final stage of gief, so I guess I'm also done witing.

Oh, yeah! I fogot! That song--"Heat of the Moment"--that's the topic I'm supposed to wite about.

Soy, I somehow got distacted and stated witing about eveything BUT the song. I guess something must have biefly cossed my mind duing a shot peiod of time, and I got caught up in an impulsive uge to say or do something I'd later eget. Of couse, that same behavio petty much sums up evey omantic elationship I attempted in my junio and senio yeas at Mash Valley. And fo some eason, this song has a poweful association with that peiod of my life. It bings back memoies of the stong, tubulent emotions--the euphoia and heatbeak--that I felt duing all those cushes I had on high school gils, especially the ones I danced with in the dak afte football and basketball games, but neve afte the westling matches o tack meets o any gils spots (how disciminatoy!). Yes, I eckon I can tuthfully say my heat was uled by teenage ambition, which I emembe well. I was always tying to catch the peal and ide the dagon's wings. What a Quimby I was!

Yeah. Okay. Back to the song.

I like the song. I think it's good! It eally, eally ocks!

108. And the Grammy for best use of "Aurora Borealis" in a song goes to...

108. "I Ran (So Far Away)" by A Flock of Seagulls

Yes, yes. I know.

The haircut.

If you listened to the entire 11 minutes and 23 seconds of "Albuquerque"--and why wouldn't you?--toward the end of the song (yes, it does in fact, end) you heard Weird Al describe a fight that he got into with "some big fat hermaphrodite with a Flock-Of-Seagulls haircut and only one nostril." And I bet what you paid attention to in that line had nothing to do hermaphrodites or nostrils. I bet you heard "Flock-of-Seagulls haircut" and instantly remembered the haircut and began to laugh because of how ridiculous it looks. Hey, that's what I did too.

I have a theory about the haircut. It's was both a blessing and a curse for the band. The blessing came in the form of widespread name recognition, something new bands need if they want to survive long enough to get really good and put out lots of albums so they can become old bands. The curse came later in the form of widespread dismissal of their music once the coolness of the haircut wore off and people began to mock it.

But I totally get the reason why the haircut gets mocked. Funny-looking hair is just...funny! And if you want a scene in a movie or a line in a song to evoke laughter, the Flock-of-Seagull haircut is a well that never runs dry. For example, "La La Land" is an academy award-winning film from last year about the importance of following your dreams, especially if those dreams have something to do with playing jazz music and/or looking pretty in movies. When they needed a funny scene, the writers threw in a Flock-of-Seagulls song. And for the most part, the scene worked well because of the mockery. (I admit I'm partial to Emma Stone because of the red hair thing. She also has the kind of eyes that hypnotize me through.)




If the singer had never cut his hair like that, I believe A Flock of Seagulls would have lasted longer as a group and be remembered today in much the same way The Police is remembered--as a group ripped to shreds by Sting's ego. They were actually a pretty good band--even winning a Grammy for Best Rock Instrumental Performance for "D.N.A." in 1983. (The Police won it the year before and Sting won it the following year. What an egotistical bastard!) To my ears, A Flock of Seagulls' sound was full of lots of interesting layers--you know, like the Wall of Sound sound. When this New Wave song came out in 1982, I played it a lot at school dances, and I always liked to hear it at the highest volume allowed by whatever chaperone was there to make sure no one got pregnant while on the dance floor. But I didn't like the band so much that I wanted to have mirrors for walls and tin foil for carpet.



I know it's hard to believe, especially considering the high production values of music videos today, but this video holds the record for the most plays on the MTV. Somebody in charge of the MTV playlist must have really liked merry-go-rounds as a kid.

Shortly after the success of "I Ran," A Flock of Seagulls came out with another song that I really liked--"Space Age Love Song." In many ways, it's a better song than "I Ran."  If I could remember dancing with any girls to "Space Age Love Song," it probably would have taken the lead. However, "I Ran" wins out because of its association with school dance DJ-ing and it's ability to do double doody as a running song.

I'm sorry. I can't end this entry here. I simply can't use the phrase "funny-looking hair" and not include a Donald J. Trump hair photo. I was going to try to avoid posting pictures of people with a Flock-of-Seagulls haircut, but oh well.

Run! Run so far away!

See. Funny-looking hair IS funny! And Donald J. Trump's hair is an absolute riot!

No. Seriously. Wherever the hair goes, there's a riot.

109. I find myself in an existential quandary, full of loathing and self-doubt, and wracked with the pain and isolation of my pitiful meaningless existence

109. "Albuquerque" by Weird Al

If a constitutional amendment were passed today to only allow voting for boys ages 10 and 11, they would form a single political organization called the Polka Party and elect Weird Al Yankovic as the next president of the United States. And they would also move the nation's capitol from Washington D.C. to Albuquerque. And they would play "Albuquerque" as our new national anthem at the inauguration--a song that I learned to love so very, very much by listening to it repeatedly as I wrote HTML code on web page after web page during my first grad school job at Utah State.





And in his first hundred days in office, Weird Al would carry out each and every single campaign promise made in his stump speech, which would consist of the Yoda Chant he does at the end of every live performance of "Yoda." (Click the video below and chant along!)



Now, if I'd put forth this radically stupid idea two years ago, people would have nervously chuckled at the sheer lunacy of having children elect such a strange man to stand at the helm our republic. Today, however, it sounds like a damn fine idea!

Dare to be stupid! Vote Al...buquerque!

And now here's the 2015 Yoda Chant stump speech in its entirety. Finally! A practical plan for a president's first 100 days in office that makes sense!

Yoda! Yo-yo-yo-yo Yoda! Yo-yo-yo-yo Yoda!

da din din da
da din din da
na tin tin na
da din din da

dit dit da
terrigada dit na giggiteeta
cut teeta guddygayna da
terrigada dit na giggiteeta
cut teeta guddygayna da
terrigada dit na giggiteeta
cut teeta guddygayna

da din din da
da din din da
na tin tin na
da din din da

Boom shaka-laka-laka
Boom shaka-laka-laka

Nyaaaaaaaaaa-ahh! PORK!

Homina!
Homina!
Homina homina homina!

Papa-ooma-mow-mow
Papa-ooma-mow-ma-mow
Pa-Papa-ooma-mow-mow
Papa-ooma-mow-ma-mow

Weeelll... doggies! (Turn head left, make neck-cracking sound)

Hey! Yaka-toka-taka-toe ee ah!
Hey! Yaka-toka-taka-toe ee ah!
Hey! Yaka-toka-taka-toe ee ah!
Hey! Yaka-toka-taka-toe ee ah!

Tahuwai la a tahuwai wai la
Ehu hene la a pili koo lua la
Pututui lu a ite toe la
Hanu lipo ita paalai

Everybody!

Tahuwai la a tahuwai wai la
Ehu hene la a pili koo lua la
Pututui lu a ite toe la
Hanu lipo ita paalai

(Oh baby)

Au we 

(Hubba-hubba-hubba!)

ta huala
(Whooo!)

Au we 

(Boing!)

ta huala

Ohhh...!

Zicke Zacke Zicke Zacke Hoi Hoi Hoi!
Zicke Zacke Zicke Zacke Hoi Hoi Hoi!

Brrr-ring-ding-ding,
Brrr-rum-bum-bum, 

Brrr-ribi-dibi-daba-daba-dum-bum-bum

Brrr-ring-ding-ding,
Brrr-rum-bum-bum, 

Brrr-ribi-dibi-daba-daba-dum!

Heh! Huh! Heh! Huh-heh-huh-heh-huh-heh

La-La-LA! NICE LADY!

Ohababa mama munigurujea
Quay Quay Ohoababa yum
Yanumoa gajerinyamo dariji guru
Koalanoiuum dho
Quay zay byoremietem
Quozi lo bundabundasi
Wandawan gajerinyamo
Serejinkuza Humbabamaka

When the crypt doors creak
And the tombstones quake
Spooks come out for a singing wake
Happy haunts materialize
And begin to vocalize
Grim grinning ghosts come out to socialize

Frère Jacques, frère Jacques,
Dormez-vous? Dormez-vous?
Sonnez les matines! Sonnez les matines!
Din, dan, don. Din, dan, don.

Crapa Pelada la fà i turtei,
ghe ne dà minga ai sò fradei.
Oh-oh-oh-oh.
I sò fradei fan la fritada.
ghe ne dan minga a Crapa Pelada.
Oh-oh-oh-o-oh!

Boom boom acka-lacka-lacka boom
Boom boom acka-lacka boom-boom

Crimpity-crimpity
Now now
Crimpity-crimpity
Ask me how
Crimpity-crimpity
Humble pie
Crimpity-crimpity
Boing
Ding
Bong-bong ting
Crimpity-crimpity
Ping-pong

Ee Po Ee (Shoo)
Ee Po Ee (Shoo)
Ee Po Ee (Shoo)
Ee Po Ee (Shoo)
Ee Po Ee (Shoo)

OO!!
Tjak tjak tjak tjak-ka
Tjak tjak tjak tjak tjak tjak tjak tjak tjak tjak

EE!!
Tjak tjak tjak tjak-ka
Tjak tjak tjak tjak tjak tjak tjak tjak tjak tjak

TJAK TJAAAK!!
Tjak tjak tjak tjak-ka
Tjak tjak tjak tjak tjak tjak tjak tjak tjak tjak
Tjak tjak tjak tjak tjak tjak tjak tjak-ka

Brrrrrrr!

cutta cutta cutta cutta
cuttyta nogayna noggy
teeta cuddadit
naw nay daw
cuttyta nogayna noggy
teeta cuddadit
naw nay daw
cuttyta nogayna noggy
teeta cuddadit
naw nay

da da cuddagudda dit
naw cuh-ta
da cuddagudda dit
naw cuh-ta
da cuddagudda dit
naw cuh-ta
da da cuddagudda dit
naw cuh-ta
da!

Yoda! Yo-yo-yo-yo Yoda! Yo-yo-yo-yo Yoda!

110. Resistance Is Futile!

110. "Beat It" / "Eat It" by Michael Jackson / Weird Al

I know it looks like a big, fat, stinkin' cheat to combine two songs into one spot on the list, but "Beat It" never would have become a favorite song without "Eat It" and vice versa. They go together like...like... Cherry Nibs and Peanut M&Ms! Like... Joanie and Chachi! Like... T. J. Hooker and car hoods!



Oh, Sergeant Hooker, how you inspire us with your iron grip and steely eyes! Who could possibly resist you?! Or your arrest?!

Still, I must say that the most impressive thing about the video, besides Adrian Zmed's hair (which is always the most impressive thing on TV no matter what show he's on), is the haymaker punch the guy in the orange jacket gave to the poor car owner (who to his credit held on to his precious briefcase throughout the attack). How good was that punch?! I mean, you don't even see the car owner (or his briefcase) lying on the pavement when the driver backs out of the parking spot. The orange-jacketed jacker must have knocked the car owner (and his briefcase) clear into the trees on the other side of the parking lot!

I'm also curious about how the guy in the passenger seat is able to move so quickly between sitting right next to the driver in the two-shots and then--BAMF! He's now sitting way over by the passenger door on the wide-shots. Is he the Nightcrawler?

End of T. J. Hooker digression. Onto the story!

When HondoJoe and I got into DJ-ing the school dances (HondoJoe had lots of good records!), I always liked to play "Beat It" early on in the dance because it not only had a decent dance beat, but it also had Eddie Van Halen playing the guitar on it, so most of the kiddies thought the song really rocked! The video became so popular that, to this day, if you ask people what Michael Jackson was wearing when he got stabbed to death in that knife fight, they'll say, "A red jacket with lots of zippers--duh!"




Later on in the dance I'd put on "Eat It" and listen to the first bars with glee while people instantly complained that I was playing the same song twice. Then they'd hear the fart sounds and realize they'd been fooled and were listening to "Eat It" instead. My goal was always to get a few girls to laugh at the musical joke, and it worked every time. Usually.



I also liked playing Michael Jackson's "P.Y.T." during the dances, and I'd crank the sound all the way up on the grunts during the bongo break. The first booming "UH!" was so unexpected, it would sometimes startle people to the point they'd flinch and/or jump, which made it my favorite DJ prank. Click on the P.Y.T. video below to hear the double-uhs! I can't make the sound automatically turn up, so it's up to you to max out your computer speakers to get the full "UH!" effect. And if you want a truly authentic early 1980s high-school dance experience, throw some tater tots, pepperoni pizza, ranch dressing, Brut 33 cologne, and a spritz or ten of Paris perfume on your carpet and let it soak in for a few days. Then spray it down with some Final Net aerosol to really hold in that 80s smell in a way its never been held before!



Now you'll not only get to hear what a 1982 school dance sounded like, but you'll also get to savor the distinct odor of a lunch room dance floor inhabited by pheromonally supercharged postpubescents!



Mmmmmm! It smells like...

Teen spirit!

Oh, yeah! That smell really brings back memories of those high school dances and the never-ending promise of sweet romance.

And sour rejection.

And public rebukes by angry, angry lunch ladies in black gossamer hairnets. (Honest! I didn't throw it!)

111. Say hello to my little friend!

111. "Mr. Roboto" by Styx

As a pre-1983 Styx fan, I am legally obligated to make the following two statements before any commentary on the song "Mr. Roboto."

Statement #1: Kilroy Was Here was a completely ridiculous idea for a rock-opera.

(If you disagree with this statement, then I dare you to try watching the following video without honestly thinking to yourself at any point, "This is a completely ridiculous idea for a rock-opera." It can't be done!)



There's only one good idea in this whole video--fried chicken riots!

Statement #2: Dennis DeYoung has turned into a real putz.

(If you disagree with this statement, then I dare you to read the Letters from Dennis section of his official web site without honestly thinking to yourself at any point, "Dennis DeYoung has turned into a real putz." It can't be done!)

The whole Kilroy Was Here concept album was so bad that the current members of Styx refuse to play anything from it during their concerts. Still, I can't help but love this song. But not for the reasons most people love rock songs. I love it because (a) it reminds me of junior year band tour (we played it a LOT on the bus) and (b) it is the best mock 'n' roll song I can think of.

What is mock 'n' roll you ask? Well, Gregg, it's a rock 'n' roll song with alternative lyrics that are meant to mock the song and make people laugh when you sing them. Mock 'n' roll isn't a parody, like a Weird Al song. It's the original song, but every once in a while you insert your own clever lyrics over the top of existing lyrics. Your brain has to process the original words at the same time it processes the over-lyrics, which results in momentary confusion in which the brain says, "Which word do I use--the original or the funny one?" This confusion is resolved when the brain says one of two things:

1. "Oh, that over-lyric is funnier than the original lyric! I'll pay attention to that one! Bah-ha-ha-ha-ha!"

2. "Oh, that over-lyric is so unfunny! But since Scapell sang it, its unfunnyness makes it even more hilarious! I'll pay attention to that one! Bah-ha-ha-ha-ha!"

The best mock 'n' roll over-lyrics sound like they could actually be mistaken for the real lyrics. There is nothing more satisfying to a mock-'n'-roller than hearing people sing the over-lyrics, and then, when you point out to them that those are your made-up lyrics, they get a look of shock on their faces, and it's pretty obvious they didn't know they weren't singing the correct lyrics. But the ultimate goal isn't to fool people. It's always to simply make the over-lyrics funnier than the original lyrics.

Who invented mock 'n' roll? I don't know. Why are you asking me anyway? What do I look like? A typewriter?

But if its up for a vote, I credit John Capell with its genesis. My recollection is that he was the master of mock 'n' roll in Arimo. He had the ability to come up with alternate lyrics on the spot that could make you involuntarily snort so hard that mucus would fly out your nose. I remember once, after he returned from his mission to Australia, that he cruised Arimo with HondoJoe and me, and when the Hewey Lewis (and the News) song "If This Is It" came on, he sang the following:

Over-lyric: "If it's a zit, please pop it man.   A zit   so     big  it  could cover  Japan!"
Original:    "If this is it, please let me know. If this ain't love you'd better let me know.

Classic.

Scapell had a quirky brand of mock 'n' roll that could take a song that would otherwise be ignored by members of the Arimo Mafia after it stopped playing on American Top 40--a song like "Stroke Me" by Billy Squire--and add a weird over-lyric that made zero sense but somehow turn it into a song we'd never forget.

Over-lyric: "Ro -    tate  lug    nuts! Rote!    Rote!"
Original:    "Stroke me. Stroke me. Stroke! Stroke!"

Classic.

HondoJoe--being John's younger brother--also had a particularly good ear for mock 'n' roll. He would sing these amazingly funny lines while hanging out with the Arimo Mafia, but since he was a bit shy to sing them in front of other people besides friends and family, either Scapell or I would sing them around other kids at school and take the credit for being funny. Yes, we were comic parasites. But you have to understand--the lyrics were too funny NOT to sing in public! I particularly remember a HondoJoe version of "When Smokey Sings" by ABC.

Over-lyric: "When Motley sings I hear violence. When Motley sings I destroy everything!"
Original:    "When Smokey sings I hear violins. When Smokey sings I forget everything!"

Classic.

Compared to the Capell clan, the rest of the kids in town, including me, had only minor mock 'n' roll skills. Creative word substitution came slow to me. I always had to work the over-lyrics out over a long period of time, but since it takes a long period of time to hand-milk cows, and since there's really nothing more entertaining to think about while you milk cows than mock 'n' roll lyrics, I could usually come up with something after a month of milking the cow twice a day (and once on the days I forgot to in the evening).

The mock 'n' roll version of Mr. Roboto that I sing definitely has lyrics taken from others. I'm positive I didn't come up with the idea of placing the song within the context of a robot-man complaining that he needs to take a piss really, really bad or he's going to die, and he's asking for help to find a place to actually do the deed. But if you listen to the song with that idea in mind, the original lyrics become pretty damn funny. The mock 'n' roll over-lyrics also take on a new level of funny. My favorite over-lyrics in the song are:

Spank you!
Spank you! Spank you!
I wanna spank you!
Please, spank you!
Oh-oooooooaaaah.
Yee-AAAHHHH-Aaaaaah!

For me, it is an absolute adolescent delight to sing the over-lyrics every time this song comes over the radio--which is less and less often as the years go by. And at the end of the song, I always imagine that the robot-man finally pulls down his metal pants to relieve his robo-bladder, but SURPRISE! What pops out is a smaller robot that calls himself Kilroy!

The time has come at last
(Secret, secret, I've got a secret!)
To throw away these pants!
(Secret, secret, I've got a secret!)
Now everyone can see
(Secret, secret, I've got a secret!)
Me while I take a pee!

I'm Kilroy! Kilroy! Kilroy! Kilroy.



Ah! Potty humor! Does it ever get old?

I don't stink so.

112. A close second and dead last

112.  "You Might Think" by The Cars

In March 1984, The Cars released Heartbeat City just in time for senior year band tour (Hello, Boise!) and running track (Hello again, Boise!). This song, more than any other, brings back memories of all those track meets, but especially the state track meet.

During the last three months of school, I can only recall two personal goals that I actively pursued every day. First, I wanted to beat Darin Woolstenhume, my arch-nemesis from Bear Lake High School, in the mile or two-mile race at any track meet that season. Second, I wanted to go to the state track meet in either the mile or the two-mile race. That's why I started training in February for those races by jogging the streets around Arimo or running up the Arkansas road until it got so muddy I had to turn back.

I faced the fleet-footed Woolstenhume in several races before the district track meet, but I came in a close second every time. (Curse you and your fleet feet, Woolstenhume!) At the district track meet, only the guys that that placed first, second, or third would qualify to go to state. It was a must-win situation for me if I wanted to achieve my two goals. And to get me psyched up for the race, the week before the meet, my beloved long-distance track coach gave me an extremely good pep talk. He said to me, "You're gonna pound that sass right out of him! Last time you should have won. But this time you're gonna be scary kid! You're gonna be a greasy fast Italian monster! You're gonna eat lightning! You're gonna crap thunder! We're gonna have to put ya in a cage, kid!"

Naw. I'm just kidding. We didn't have a long-distance track coach. Those of us that wanted to run anything longer than one trip around the track had to basically coach ourselves. That's because the track coaches were really football coaches, and all they cared about was the sprints. They used track as a way to check out which underclassmen showed the greatest promise for next year's football team. Senior year long-distance runners were of zero interest to them.

I figured my best shot at beating Woolstenhume would be the two-mile race at the beginning of the district meet, so that's the only one I really had any strategy for. I had been working on my sprint to the finish line, so much so that I could run the 400 faster than two of the guys on the 4x4 team (which really pissed them off). I was certain that if I kept up with Woolstenhume until the last lap of the race, I'd be able to crush him by starting an early sprint for the finish line, which would probably catch him off guard. I figured that would make him poop out in the last half-lap of the race. Victory would be mine!

But my strategy was flawed. He met my early sprint-for-the-finish challenge and beat me by a step or two. (Curse you, Woolstenhume! You magnificently fast bastard!) I was crushed to have come in second in that race. I had blown my best shot at defeating him at least once during my high school track career. And even though by coming in second I had made my goal of going to state in the two-mile race, I couldn't help but feel disappointed that all the work I had gone to hadn't produced the results I wanted. But there was still the mile race at the end of the meet, so I stretched and relaxed and stayed hydrated with the hope that maybe he'd fall down in the mile race, and I could somehow beat him.

When the mile race started, it was balls to the wall from the get-go. Both Woolstenhume and I went out fast, putting us both on a record-breaking pace. But in the last half lap of the race, Woolstenhume began to fade, and I pulled out in front of him. We were both exhausted from the effort of the two-mile race, and I also began to hit the wall and couldn't run any faster, but I stayed ahead of him. I was going to win!

At least I was until the last 100 yards of the race. That's when one of Woolstenhume's teammates surged ahead of me and won the race. Are you kidding me?! Who was that guy?! I'd never seen him run a long-distance race before in any of the meets in all four years of running track! I was super-pissed that he'd beat me, but I still felt good that I'd finally beat Woolstenhume in that race. Both of my goals had been achieved!

I kept up my training for the state track meet, but I knew there was zero chance that I would even place in either the mile or two mile race. Because we shared the bus ride up with the Bear Lake team, the coaches put all us long distance runners together, and I ended up sharing a room with Darin Woolstenhume. That's when I found out--to my utter and complete disappointment--that he was a super-nice guy. He couldn't have been friendlier either. So our rivalry came to an abrupt end, as did my motivation to try to beat him in the two-mile race. While we spent most of the time before the races together, I only remember two things about our conversations--eating pancakes as a carb-loading strategy and how much we liked the songs on Heartbeat City. I believe he was partial to "Hello Again," while I liked "You Might Think" the most. Why? Because any video depicting acts of underwater voyeurism on soaped-up supermodels in clawfoot tubs is a-okay with me!



(Cool trivia: Ric Okasec ended up marrying the supermodel in this video. I think he was playing catch-up to Billy Joel.)

Within the first two laps of the two-mile race, I quickly realized I was totally unprepared for the level of competition at the state track races. I came in dead last in both races, and Woolstenhume came in way ahead of me in both. That was due in part to an upset stomach that I had throughout the meet. I basically didn't stop running at the end of either race until I got to a restroom, where my colon continued the race for another ten minutes.

Other than my gastrointestinal pain, the main thing I remember about the state meet was what the crowd did as I ran that last lap in the two-mile race. Although I had run the first mile of the race in under 5 minutes--the first time I'd ever run a mile that fast--my body wouldn't let me run faster than a 6-minute last mile. I got lapped by the winners, and the crowd could see that I was sucking wind pretty bad, but that I was giving it my all. Still, at the beginning of that last lap I had faded so far behind the others that it seemed I was sure to come in last. But there was this one kid about 50 feet ahead of me, and I decided that even though it was a long shot, I'd try to beat him. So I poured on as much speed as I could during the last half-lap. The kid wasn't paying attention to what was going on behind him, as I had been so far behind he was certain I'd come in last. But when the crowd saw me sneaking up behind him, they started to cheer me on. The kid looked up into the stands, surprised at what he was hearing. And then he looked behind to see me coming up on him fast. He then high-tailed it to the finish line, to the delight of the crowd. The two of us had an all-out sprint to the end, with the crowd cheering us on, and since they had started cheering when I made my final sprint, I felt like they were mainly cheering for me. But they're psychological support did not work any magic, and I came in last.

Even though I left the state track meet a double loser, I still felt satisfied that I had run the best two-mile race I could (under 11 minutes). Like so many other things that had happened to me in that last semester of my senior year, I had embarrassed myself and failed miserably at something I really wanted to win at. I knew it. And I knew that everybody else knew it. But I still hadn't given up completely. I had just taken the pain and embarrassment, gritted my teeth, and sprinted for the finish line anyway. And that's pretty much what I did to get through the remaining weeks of high school after the meet. Although it was a difficult experience at the time, I learned an important life lesson from it all--a lesson best summed up in the lyrics of this song.

And it was hard, so hard to take.
There's no escape without a scrape.
But you kept it goin' till the sun fell down.

You kept it goin'.

113. Parlez vous allemand?

113. "Hold on Tight" by Electric Light Orchestra

Did you ever hear a song on the radio that inspired you to buy a French dictionary? I did. In 1981. My goal? To know what the guy was saying in French. But I couldn't figure out. Unfortunately, when it comes to words with letters that actually make the sound that they look like they are supposed to spell, the French language is--oh, how do you say it?--a steaming pile of horseshit! (Pardon my French.) And that's one reason why I studied German in high school for two years--which I knew was a huge waste of time after the first year, as Mynards Mangelson was the instructor.

So why did I sign up for a second year of German? Was I that afraid of the French language? No. Not at all. I had an excellent reason to sign up to sprechen sie deutsch for a second year. I knew that if I took that class, for one hour every day, I would get to not only sit next to, but also talk at length with, Tammy Baker.

Of course, socially and intellectually speaking, I wasn't in her league at all. But she was still kind enough to flirt with me from time to time. Also, I could actually have a decent conversation with her, as she had a good sense of humor and was really smart. (Wasn't she a valedictorian?) But in all honesty, when we were talking to each other, especially in German, I couldn't concentrate very well on what she was saying because she had the two most perfect...umlauts.... Wöw! After our conversations, it took me a good half hour before I could stop fantasizing about fricatives.

So thank you, Jeff Lynne, for including a French verse in this song and guiding me towards studying the German language in high school. Without you, I would never have had the opportunity to talk daily with a girl so beautifully...linguistic... that she made me involuntarily goose-step out of the classroom.



Oh, and I did manage to study the French dictionary long enough to teach myself one phrase--

Je vais traire la vache.
I am going to milk the cow.

I've forgotten how to say the phrase now, but I knew it back when this song was topping the charts. French phrases that would have been equally as useful to me later in life, but which also would have been tremendously useful for Jeff Lynne while making this video, include:

Un éclair a frappé l'avion et le moteur est maintenant en feu!
A lightning bolt has struck the plane and the engine is now on fire!

Mettez le petit sac sur la tête.
Put the little sack over her head.

Ma chèvre laiteuse est une honte pour toutes les barbes partout.
My pitiful goatee is a disgrace to all beards everywhere.

Faites attention aux ongles géants!
Watch out for the giant nails!

La moto a couru le gâteau.
The motorcyle ran over the cake.

Ne pointez pas le fusil sur cette partie de son corps.
Don't point the ray gun at that part of her body.
Pourquoi les Mayas de la jungle blonde marchent-ils comme les Égyptiens?
Why are the blonde jungle Mayans walking like Egyptians?

La dame ivre montait dans la voiture de police à travers le bar.
The drunken lady rode the police car through the bar.

Après le coup de poing rond, casser la chaise sur le dos.
After the roundhouse punch, break the chair over his back.

Mettez les lunettes de soleil pour masquer votre verve de la barbe.
Put on the sunglasses to mask your beard shame.

Le karaté coupe le méchant et le tire sur le rayon de la mort.
Karate chop the Chinese villain and shoot him with the death ray.

Punch les nazis dans le sidecar.
Punch the nazi in the sidecar!

This concludes your French lesson. Au Revoir!

114. They Kilt It

114. "Run Runaway" by Slade

Guitar bagpipes!



Did I mention the guitar bagpipes?

GUITAR BAGPIPES!

'Nuff said!






















Well, there is a little more to be said about the video above. If you like guitar bagpipes AND speed metal AND Benny Hill, click the gear icon for the video settings and ramp up the speed to "2." Guitar bagpipes at twice the speed are twice the fun!

You're welcome.

But other than that, nothing else needs to be said!



























...except maybe this disclaimer--just because a rock song has bagpipes in it, that doesn't mean I'll like it. Paul McCartney's "Mull of Kintyre" bagpipe song was a huge top-selling song in England, but I don't like it enough to even put the video here. However, I would be derelict in my doody if I didn't alert you to the following video of that song.



But other than that additional tidbit of bagpipery, there is nothing else to say about bagpipes in rock songs. Truly, enough has been said at this point!







































...other than this one little last thing about rock bagpipes that is ELO-related. I used to think that Jeff Lynne's disagreements with other members of ELO maybe could have been avoided if he'd just been willing to engage in a little give-and-take when it came to musical artistic decisions. But after seeing the following video, I no longer think that. See, when bagpipes are featured in a rock song, they're supposed to be the most odd thing in the band. When bagpipes are the least odd thing, well...somebody has lost their freakin' mind!



What else can be said about rock bagpipes after that? Nothing else! 'Nuff said for sure!













































...apart from the following observation. When you're looking for rock songs with bagpipes in them, you run across some very sensational but disturbing bagpiperless performances on German TV that really make you ask yourself questions that you never thought you'd ever ask, such as "Did I just see Charlie Manson's evil twin sing Giddy-up a Ding Dong?"




The answer is yes. Yes, you did just see Charlie Manson's evil twin sing Giddy-up a Ding Dong. And you will never unsee it. Ever. Still, we have to wonder--would the addition of bagpipes have made it any better? No. Absolutely NOT!








































...unless Glen Campbell was playing them and/or singing in a duck voice.



'NUFF SAID!































































Yep. That's it. There's nothing else to see here. Please go about your business, sir.

115. Jinkies!

115. "Bad Reputation" by Joan Jett and the Blackhearts

I liked this song when it first came out, but mostly forgot about it until I watched all 18 episodes of "Freaks and Geeks." (Nice show. THANKS!) Then, either because of the sheer repetition of the theme song or because Cardellini is my favorite pasta, I one-clicked purchased this song so I could put it on my iPod. A few years later, this song had me hitting the iPods replay button in the six months before I got fired at BYU-Idaho for NOT doing something I thought was wrong. During that time, I found it strangely comforting to run laps to this song.



Although I'm sure Ms. Jett probably didn't intend for this song to have a connection to anything "spiritual," because of the BYU-Idaho memories associated with this song, when I listen to it now, I connect it with a line from an oft-played hymn that I heard in church a lot while growing up--do what is right; let the consequence follow.

And that's why this song has a spot on my someday-I'll-exercise iPod playlist, as well as a page in my rock 'n' roll hymnbook.

116. Eat Your Dirty Laundry

116. "Headlong" by Queen

When Apple introduced the world to the iPod and iTunes, I immediately bought a magical white music box and set out on a quest to create the ultimate playlist for jogging. I wanted to get in shape to run a marathon again, and I knew the key to my sticking with daily workouts would be a massive collection of songs that could ratchet up my energy level when I felt like giving up but knew I still needed to keep running for another mile or three. "Headlong" is that kind of song. With this song cranking in my ears, I could not only continue to run when I got tired, but I could even pour on the speed to see if I could get three laps around the track in before the song ended.

Although the song came out on their second-to-last album, it hearkens back to their early albums that featured some tasty hard-rockin' jams. This song showed that after all the years of eclectic music-making, they still had the chops to make good on their promise that "We will, we will, ROCK YOU!"

Besides the adrenaline pumping guitar music, this song also has some really fun lyrics to sing. Who can resist singing along with lines like these?

He used to be a man with a stick in his hand.
Hoop diddy diddy - Hoop diddy do.
She used to be a woman with a hot dog stand.
Hoop diddy diddy - Hoop diddy do.
Now you've got soup in the laundry bag.
Now you've got strings, you're gonna lose your rag.
You're gettin' in a fight.
Then it ain't so groovy
When you're screaming in the night
"Let me out of this cheap B-movie!"

Oh, yeah! That's Queen at its best--songs that rock while still maintaining a sense of humor and fun. And that humor comes in real handy around mile 18 of a marathon when iPod-less old grannies twice your age start passing you on the route and there's nothin' you can do about it, nothin' you can do, no, there's nothin' you can do about it, no, there's nothing you can, nothin' you can, nothin' you can DO about it!

117. Ohhh! Gnarly!

117. "Eruption/You Really Got Me" by Van Halen

This is a 1978 song that I associate with my junior year of high school in 1982-83. That's when cousin Randy came to live with our family and we shared a bedroom. Randy brought three albums with him, which I'll now list in order of popularity with me.

1. "Van Halen" by--you guessed it--Van Halen

2. "Diver Down" by Van Halen

3. "Cat Scratch Fever" by Ted Nugent

Listening to the Nuge is best done in small doses. While I liked the song "Homebound," you just can't listen to the album repeatedly over and over like you can other albums. Otherwise, you'll want to kill somebody after the third playing of "Wang Dang Sweet Poontang"--which is somehow appropriate since the song that follows Wang Dang is "Death by Misadventure." That's why I encouraged Randy to play "Van Halen" whenever I could.

One of the things we enjoyed doing while listening to this album is that we'd play air guitar to "Eruption" to see if we could make the other one laugh. It was kind of a lead-in to the next son, so at the end of "Eruption" we'd pause and hold the pose for two seconds and then rock out to "You Really Got Me" while singing the lyrics.

Here's a 2015 video of Eddie playing the real guitar and Dave singing lead. They reunited, and it didn't feel so good. Dave's got a bandage over his nose because just before they played this song he whacked himself in the face with the mic stand and busted his nose. They had to wait for the medics to patch him up before he could return and finish the gig. Eddie played for the crowd while they waited.



I'm sure Randy would have got a huge kick out of seeing Dave with a broken nose still singing on stage. He always said he wanted to be either Dave or Spicoli from "Fast Times at Ridgemont High." His favorite Spicoli saying was, "All I need are some tasty waves, cool buzz, and I'm fine." Also, at the end of the movie, there was a note on the screen that said Spicoli had saved Brook Shields from drowning and blown the reward money on having Van Halen play at his birthday party.




Shortly after Randy arrived in Arimo and began working for Spencer, he bought another album--Pink Floyd's "The Wall."

It was the best out of all of Randy's albums, but it didn't prompt the wild air guitar moves like Van Halen did. By the time Randy left in May of 1983, he had turned me into a Van Halen fan, and when their "1984" album came out, I immediately liked it all. Whenever I listened to it I always wondered what Randy thought of the songs. I'm sure he royally rocked the air guitar to "Panama," "Girl Gone Bad," and "House of Pain." But I didn't. It just wasn't as fun to do that anymore without Randy there to both laugh at and make laugh.

And that's why I've got a song from Van Halen's debut album on my Top 200, but not anything from 1984. That album came out in January of 1984, so it was quickly adopted by those of us in the class of '84 as a popular album to listen to. And "Jump" was a big hit, but it's been so overplayed since we graduated that I will not always stop changing the radio station when I hear it. Of course, "Panama" was a real contender for the list, but I really don't want to have to think about what Diamond Dave was doing during that pause after he reached down between his legs--------to ease the seat back. I'm sure it wasn't playing air guitar. The only other Van Halen song that had a shot at my Top 200 was "Happy Trails" from Diver Down. Randy and I used to sing along whenever it played, and we'd sometimes break out into the song while we were out doing chores. One of us would sing the song while the other would "bom-ba-de-da" through the lines. And that's the song that really sums up my feelings about Randy now--happy trails to you 'till we meet again!

118. Mr. Snuggleupafuss

118. "How Much I Feel" by Ambrosia

Writing about my "Eye in the Sky" first slow dance experience has put me in the mindset needed to write about the next song on the countdown--"How Much I Feel" by Ambrosia. This song belongs to a particular oxymoronic genre of we-broke-up-but-I-still-love-you songs. The lyrics in these songs have many lines--and especially the chorus--that express how the singer will always have a place in their heart for a former girlfriend/boyfriend even though the two just couldn't seem to muster enough love and commitment to figure out how to stay together in the first place.

Don't get me wrong. Even though these songs don't make logical sense, I think it's a great genre, and I really like a lot of them, including:

"Scenes from an Italian Restaurant" by Billy Joel (which happens to be Billy's favorite Billy Joel song)

"Send Her My Love" by Journey

"Happy Anniversary Baby" by Little River Band

"The Flame" by Cheap Trick

You've already seen a few songs like this on this Top 200 list (Quiche Lorraine?), and you'll see many more before its finished. In fact, the closer we get to number #1, the more likely you'll see a song of this genre.

I did NOT include "How Much I Feel" on my list because when I heard it the first time it reminded me of a girl that I broke up with but still loved. It was 1978 when this song started playing on the radio. I wasn't even a teenager then. I hadn't yet lived long enough yet to meet any girls that would like me enough to get to the point where anything resembling a break-up was even possible.

This song is on my list because it is the one with the most Ambrosia sound that produces a potent time-travel effect that I can't help but enjoy in my adulthood. If I lay on my bed and close my eyes while I listen to this song, I am transported back in time to 1978. It feels so real that sometimes, when I open my eyes during the song, I see bell-bottoms and perms.





Other late 70s songs with this time-travel power include, but are not limited to:

Leo Sayer -- How Much Love
Alan O'Day -- Undercover Angel
Pablo Cruise -- Whatcha Gonna Do

Mmmmmm! So good! These songs even bring back the smell the chlorine from all the swim team meets I went to in the summer of 77. With Pablo Cruise, I also smell Solarcaine.



But even though I like sentimental old-lover-I-still-love songs, I have to admit that there is something about these soft rock songs that I find disturbing and, in some cases, physically discomforting. If I'm lying on the bed with my eyes closed with visions of old girlfriends in flared jeans and crocheted halter-tops running through my head, and if my wife decides to join me and snuggles up to me while she listens, there's this moment of hesitation where I have to wonder if I should snuggle back. That's because the music sounds romantic on the surface, but the singer's professing love for an old flame, and it's kind of weird to snuggle back when the lyrics make me think about old girlfriends and not my wife. Then that thought begins to make me wonder if she might be thinking about old boyfriends while she's snuggling up to me. And like most people I know, I really don't want to snuggle back if someone's using me as a snuggle proxy for an old flame. Consequently, these songs are basically snuggle kryptonite to me. And if the playlist isn't quickly changed to another genre of soft-rock songs about people that actually love their current lover, there's a real danger of experiencing severe snuggle-interruptus. And it takes at least two cans of Solarcaine to take away that red-hot pain!

So caution is in order as you continue on with this Top 200 list. Whenever a song like "How Much I Feel" comes up, it's probably best not to listen to it while you're resting in bed with your current lover and/or spouse. If you do, you'd better have a first-aid kit handy, and it better be well-stocked with salves, lotions, ointments, oils, petroleum jellies and/or sprays with prescription-strength benzocaine! Otherwise, you'll find out just how much you feel. And it will feel something like this--

119. Don't Go Chasing Waterfalls

119. "Sirius/Eye in the Sky" by Alan Parsons Project

The Chicago Bulls pretty much ruined the song "Sirius" for all Jazz fans, but it is another one of those instrumental segue songs that make the following song even better, so I can't exclude it, even though it causes flashbacks of late 90s anguish.

There is no official video of the song that includes Sirius as a lead-in, so here's a live version featuring Alan Parsons singing with his old-man-singing-live voice, which is obviously not as smooth as the studio-enhanced voice we hear on the studio recording of the song. But to be fair to Alan, he wasn't the voice on the studio recording. It was his partner Eric Woolfson. Alan started out as a producer, not a singer. And he brought in lots of other people to sing on the songs, so he never really took the attitude of "I'm the best singer in the world, so listen to me dammit!" In fact, it was Woolfson, that gave it the name "Alan Parsons Project." Alan was supposed to be the engineer and producer on the records, and Eric was going to write the songs and be the lead musician in the "project." When the project first got started, they never toured. It was just studio work by Alan and Eric and all the other musicians they invited to join in on the songs. But now Alan is old and needs money, and Eric is off doing something else with his life with music theater, so Alan formed a touring band, and he's singing the songs, because that's what the audience expects.




Okay. Enough with the project trivia. There's a really good reason this song is on my list.

It was my first slow dance ever!

It was August around the time school started. Randy had come to live with us. A stake dance had been announced for all 16-year-olds and older, and I was told I needed to go and take Randy with me so that he could meet all of the nice Mormon girls and they could meet him. The dance was out in some sagebrush field in the lava rocks between Arimo and McCammon, which I thought was a ridiculous place for a dance, but since I wasn't on the planning committee, I didn't get to choose the place. Randy came to the dance reluctantly, but I was more reluctant to actually dance than he was. I had always avoided slow dancing at school or church dances I had gone to in the past, but I couldn't avoid it with this one. It was inevitable. I was going to have to slow dance with someone, and there was nothing I could do to avoid it, and I knew it. I was dreading the moment because I had no idea who was going to be the one to ask me, and I didn't have the guts to ask the girls I really wanted to slow dance with. And that's why I breathed a sigh of relief when "Eye in the Sky" started playing and Mary Barlow walked up to me. She didn't ask as much as just grab me by the hand and pull me to the dance area where we proceeded to slow dance for four-and-a-half minutes.

What was I thinking during that song while I was dancing with Mary? I was thinking about a previous time when Devon Maughan had, for reasons I don't know, stopped to pick up Mary Barlow and took her with us to go tubing down the Portnuef river at Lava Hot Springs. It was the only time I can remember that a girl joined us on those trips, and Mary seemed to always be trying to get her tube closer to mine. But I knew the river and could go wherever I wanted lickety-split, and she didn't, so I pretty much kept her at more than arms length. After ending our tubing at Lava, but before we took Mary home, we stopped at a swimming hole by the McCammon turnoff, which is about half a mile away from the dump. We all plunged into the hole, where I had had been swimming before, so I knew where to jump in and where I could swim to.

My favorite stunt was to swim out into the middle of this swimming hole, do a surface dive while someone was watching and then swim underneath this small waterfall nearby. I'd stay there where nobody could see me for a few minutes, and then I'd dive down and swim back out to the middle of the swimming hole and pretend like I'd been underwater the whole time. I don't remember if I was able to pull this joke on Mary at the time, but she somehow found out about the waterfall. And when I had swam underneath it this one time, Mary swam in to join me. I started to move away from the rock ledge I was holding onto like I was going to swim away. She then said, "Daren, don't you like me?"--because I was leaving as soon as she got there. I said, "Yeah, I like you," and then I dove underwater and swam away.

At the time of the waterfall encounter, I didn't know if she asked me that question because she wanted me to be her boyfriend or just what that was about. But while I was dancing with her to Eye in the Sky I reflected on that incident and thought, "You could have been slow dancing with her under the waterfall, you dipstick!" And after the dance I considered asking Mary out to see if we could ever make it back underneath that waterfall again. But she ended up getting a steady boyfriend, and I never pursued it any further. I figured she'd found the boy she liked, and I wasn't going to be able to convince her she'd have a better time with me.

I do have a few other good memories of Mary, mostly surrounding the Mz. Marsh Valley contest, which she produced, and some encounters in the hallway where I'd crack a joke and she'd laugh. The last time I saw Mary was at the Smith's grocery store in Logan when I was in graduate school. She worked there as a clerk, and I ran into her by the salad section. We exchanged niceties about what we were doing with our lives and what was going on with our families. Then she needed to get back to work, so I grabbed a bag of lettuce, said it was nice to see her again, we smiled at each other for a second, and then I walked away.

(Cue Dan Fogelberg "Same Old Lang Syne" song.)

And so now whenever I hear "Eye in the Sky," I think of Mary and how grateful I am that she was my first slow dance. If she could have read my mind during it, she might have found out the real reason I swam away from her at the swimming hole--I was afraid if I stayed there with her under that waterfall for any longer, I'd make a fool of myself by trying to make her my first kiss.

120. Turn Up the Clock Radio

120. "Gemini Dream" by The Moody Blues

In 1981 this song topped the charts at #1. In Canada. And in our barn. For reasons I will never fully understand, when I hear this song, it triggers memories hearing it on the old clock radio I had installed in the barn to entertain me while I milked the cow, fed the calves, and did whatever other chores happened to be on Dad's list of things that needed to be done every day but don't really get noticed when they don't. I remember being really happy when this song came on the radio because I had wanted to hear it while I did my chores that day, and I turned it all the way up and started to dance around in the barn while I fed the calves and mucked the barn--kind of like that dance scene in that Footloose barn at the end of the movie, only without all those girls and glitter and gymnastics. And a hell of a lot more manure. But the exact same number of black people.

121. The Dabney Coleman of Rock 'n' Roll Songs

121. "We Built This City" by Starship

This may very well be the worst song in rock 'n' roll. And I'm not alone in that opinion. VH1 put it at #1 on their list of the "50 Most Awesomely Bad Songs...Ever." In 2011, a reader's poll for Rolling Stone magazine voted it as the worst song of the 80s. And in 2016, GQ magazine identified it as the "the most detested song in human history." Even Grace Slick hated it.

Grace Slick (Starship vocalist; ‘Vanity Fair,’ June 2012): I was such an asshole for a while, I was trying to make up for it by being sober, which I was all during the '80s, which is a bizarre decade to be sober in. So I was trying to make it up to the band by being a good girl. Here, we're going to sing this song, “We Built This City on Rock & Roll.” Oh, you're shitting me, that's the worst song ever.

But while Grace and most of the other 7.5 billion people on the planet love to hate this song, I hate to love it. The song came out while I was in Sweden, which meant I was only supposed to hear rock 'n' roll music when I was out in public or if people played it while we were visiting them. So when I had a chance to listen to a new rock song, I really paid attention to it and tried to squeeze as much enjoyment out of the experience as I could. And this song got really lucky and just happened to play on the radio when my companion and I were riding home in the back seat of Lars Nordlof's Saab right after we baptized him. His girlfriend Annalee liked the song, so she turned it up, knowing that the two missionaries in the car would also like to hear it played loud. She was a member and had been around missionaries all her life, so she kind of figured out that a lot of missionaries liked to hear something beside the tabernacle choir from time to time. My companion and I just grinned at each other when she turned it up. We rocked the song while driving at high speed down a Swedish country road in the dark. It may very well be the happiest moment of my mission.

And that's how the "worst song ever" became a song that I can't help but love.

But even though I love the song, I do hate the video. If you took everything bad you'd ever seen in an 80s video and spliced it all together, you'd still have something ten times better than this. Human language is incapable to describing the level of awfulness that this video attains, so I won't even try. I should probably not post it here or even encourage others to watch it, but it's an 80s video trainwreck you really can't force yourself not to look at.



Fear not, dear reader, as this is the last time you'll hear a Starship song or see a Starship video on the countdown. It will NOT, however, be the last time you'll hear or see an actual starship. But none of the starships you will see will be from a Starship album cover, because for some reason beyond reason, there are no images of starships on any of their four album covers. And I'm not sure why, but I'm okay with that.

122. Agalmatophilia

122. "Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now" by Starship

For a #1 charting song, I don't think this song is very good. The music video for it is even worse. And the movie "Mannequin"--upon which the music video is based and in which this song is played during the closing credits--is even worser. It's all one huge heap of rock 'n' roll mediocrity.

But that's a good thing.

I'll explain why after the video.



If the movie hadn't been painfully bad, I never would have gotten bored watching it the first time I ever saw it. And if I hadn't got bored, I wouldn't have started thinking about what I could be doing besides watching the movie that would be more fun and exciting. And if I hadn't started thinking about fun and exciting things to do, I wouldn't have had the idea to try to kiss my date that was watching the movie with me. And if I hadn't kissed my date, she wouldn't have kissed me back. And if she hadn't kissed me back, I wouldn't have asked her out again, fallen in love with her, and then married her. Consequently, every time I hear this song, I think about kissing my wife for the first time, which happens to be infinitely more pleasurable than the second-most fun thing I've ever done while watching a video about a paraphilia involving sexual relations with dolls--which is chuckle in bemusement at the video for this song I heard in Sweden.



So I say thank you, Grace Slick, for leaving Jefferson Airplane to join Jefferson Starship, and then leaving Jefferson Starship to join Starship, which was featured in a stupid movie that Leonard Maltin said was "absolute rock-bottom fare, dispiriting for anyone who remembers what movie comedy should be" (after which you left Starship to reform Jefferson Airplane again). Because if you hadn't done all that band-hopping, I wouldn't be married today to a wonderful woman who still lets me kiss her from time to time during boring movies. Instead, I'd probably have to satisfy my soul with a cryin', walkin', sleepin', talkin', livin' doll, which I'm sure would eventually lead to me being bashed over the head mercilessly by hammer-toting brits and/or publicly criticized and humiliated by Leonard Maltin and/or photographed by Pete Welsh.

123. Why does everyone think angels play baseball?

123. "I Do' Wanna Know" by REO Speedwagon

The Speedwagon had some massive chart-topping hits during my high school years, and this song wasn't one of them. The single came out just a few months before graduation, so it didn't have a lot of time to rack up the old high school memories either. But the timing of its release is why it's in my top 200. I think it was sometime in February of 1984 that I decided to renew my membership in the He-Man Woman-Haters Club, and I stopped going to dances of any kind and swore off dating. I also stopped caring about my classes, my classmates (except for the Arimo Mafia), church, scouts, and, truth be told, my family. Hanging out with the Arimo Mafia, running track, and going on band tour were the only things I cared about. I had also adopted a rebellious attitude toward pretty much every adult I knew, except for Uncle Wayne and Ivalue. I was turning 18 and was ready to claim my independence of everything and everyone. And that's why this song perfectly distills my general frame of mind during those last three months of high school.

This song also reminds me of the school trip to Lagoon when the Musik Express operator played the same REO Speedwagon song over and over and over and over as we went around and around and around and around and around and around and around and around and around and around and around. Because he had it turned up so loud, we also heard it anytime we rode nearby rides, like the Wild Mouse or Collossus or the Centennial Screamer or the Rock-o-plane or the Sky Ride. I'm pretty sure it was this song and the trip was our senior sneak. But I could be wrong. My brain got pretty scrambled from all those rides, and as a result my four years of high school Lagoon memories may be completely jumbled.

Hey kids! If you like jello, baseball, Benny Hill, death by toaster, holy mullets, and Satan Claus, then this is the video you've been waiting for! Click it now! And please keep your arms and legs inside the ride at all times. Have fun!

124. In Case the Reds Decide to Push the Button Down

124. "New Frontier" by Donald Fagen

In 1981 Steely Dan broke up. Don't worry. They got back together again in 1993 and are still together today. But after the breakup, Donald Fagen went off and wrote himself a humdinger of a jazz-rock album--The Nightfly. Because of the way it was recorded and mixed in the studio, the entire album, but especially the song "I.G.Y.," is a favorite among audiophiles. Now I'm a country boy, so I don't understand why someone would have such an unnatural attraction to hi-fi stereos, but apparently audiophilia is an actual thing. I'm sure Pete Welsh has a picture of an audiophile in the act, and I DON'T want to see it!

Only a few of the songs on the album hit the charts, and my favorite among them was "New Frontier," probably because the video depicted what it would be like to party in an underground bomb shelter like it was 1959. At the time this song charted--early 1983--as a nation we were still concerned that the Soviet Union might bomb us to oblivion, so the song definitely touched on contemporary themes in the early 80s, even though it harkened back to the late 50s. I would guess that most teenagers in 1983 at one time or another wondered if they'd like living in an underground bunker for several months (or years?) until the radiation from the nuclear bombs got back down to tolerable levels. To a small extent, teenagers thought about getting nuked so much in 1983 because of this song and video, but mostly they thought about it because that's when War Games came out in theaters. After seeing that movie, I was pretty sure I could survive a thermonuclear war if I had a girlfriend like Ally Sheedy. Or Annabeth Gish. I can never tell which one is which now.

Okay. Time out. I have to say that in my teenage years, I would have been very capable of telling the difference between the two girls below (I think the girls are the ones on the left).

But in my older years--as well as their older years--I have a very difficult time telling the two women apart. I watched halfway into season 9 of the X-files while wondering to myself, "Am I looking at Alley Sheedy or Annabeth Gish?"

Agent Gisheedy

Can you immediately tell which one is which in the pictures below? Or do you have to look at them several times before you think you know who you're looking at?

I suppose my confusion is all part of the dementia slowly destroying my 50+-year-old brain. Pretty soon, I won't be able to tell the difference between Maureen McCormick and Christine Taylor either.

Hopefully, my dementia will be miraculously cured by high doses of radiation from the nuclear bombs dropped on us after Donald Trump causes an international conflict by tweeting something incoherent in the middle of the night.

Anyway, here's what I hope my life in the bunker will be like for me and my jazz-loving girlfriend.




About three years after this song came out,  I was shopping in a grocery store in Sweden when I saw this album in a bin full of discounted tapes. I said to myself, "When I get home, I'm going to buy this album and listen to it as much as I want."

And guess what. I did.

In fact, I had my Swedish companion Elder Skinner come visit me in Pocatello after he got off his mission. He was studying jazz music at Berklee College of Music in Boston. He always talked about jazz music the two months we were together. During our visit, when he saw all of the other music I had, he basically turned up his nose at it all and would only listen to The Nightfly. I took him to Yellowstone Park, and this was the only tape he wanted to listen to on the way. He also listened to it in his Walkman when we got back home to the Standrod House. I haven't heard from him since that visit. But I always imagine that he's probably somewhere playing Ruby Baby on the saxaphone at some jazz club somewhere in Sweden. And I hope he survives the worldwide nuclear conflagration of 2019, because we've got to have some music on the new frontier!

HOLY CRAPOLEY! On a whim I googled "Adam Skinner jazz Sweden" and found my old companion playing a Billy Joel song on the piano!



He's got the right dynamic for the new frontier!