100. "The Lumberjack Song" by Monty Python
And now for something completely different.
Sunday, May 7, 2017
Saturday, May 6, 2017
A Cleansing of the Musical Palate
With one hundred songs completed on this list, it is now time to offer the reader/listener/internet stalker a cleansing of the musical palate with a little piano jazz.
This cat can jam! It's solid murder, gate!*
*If you want a truly authentic jazz experience, play all four of the songs at once.
Nerts!
This cat can jam! It's solid murder, gate!*
*If you want a truly authentic jazz experience, play all four of the songs at once.
Nerts!
Friday, May 5, 2017
101. Fondue Styx
101. "Miss America" by Styx
I don't remember how or when it happened, but an 8-track of Styx's "The Grand Illusion" somehow made it into the house.
During high school, I claimed it as my own property and played it until I had memorized the album. It wasn't because I liked all of the songs on it. It was because 8-tracks had the most frustrating way of navigating the album.You couldn't just forward ahead to the start of the song you wanted and listen to it. Instead, there were four "Programs" that you could skip around to, but if you skipped in the middle of a song, it would put you into the middle of some other song on another program. Here's the tracklist for "The Grand Illusion" 8-track:
Program 1 (9:46)
1 The Grand Illusion
2 Miss America
Program 2 (9:46)
1 Superstars
2 Man In The Wilderness
Program 3 (9:46)
1 Come Sail Away
2 Castle Walls (Part 1)
Program 4 (9:46)
1 Castle Walls (Part 2)
2 Fooling Yourself (The Angry Young Man)
3 The Grand Finale
You'll notice that "Miss America" started in the middle of Program 1. This meant that I either had to listen to "The Grand Illusion" first, or listen to the song that came first in some other Program. I usually listened to "Come Sail Away," but not all the way to the end. If I wanted to skip to hear "Miss America in its entirety, I could only listen to part of "Come Sail Away" and then skip at just the right time to Program 1. Then if I wanted to listen to "Miss America" again, I had to first listen to either "The Grand Illusion," "Superstars," or "Come Sail Away" again.
Why not skip to Program 4 and listen to "Castle Walls (Part 2)? Because the idiots that invented this format would only allow 9 minutes and 46 seconds of music to be on any one program. Since "Come Sail Away" is a long song, they couldn't get through all of "Castle Walls" in Program 3. This meant that somewhere in the middle of the "Castle Walls" song, the music would stop for a second and...ka-chunk...it would advance to Program 4 where the song would continue where it left off, thus ruining the song completely. That is why I don't know the lyrics to "Castle Walls"--the incomplete Part 1 of the song was always competing with "Miss America." And do you know why Miss America is called Miss America? Because she blew away all the competition! If she hadn't eliminated the competition, she'd be called Miss Ohio!
Of course, the limited space for each Program on the 8-track also meant that the producers would often have to rearrange the order of the songs on the album so that they could have the fewest number of songs with the jarring split-program ka-chunking. Good idea, right? WRONG! Bands like Styx often created these concept albums where the ordering of the songs was an important part of the listening experience. The order of the songs created an extended story or message that gave the entire album a meaning that was more than the sum of the meaning of its individual songs. By dicing up and rearranging the songs on the 8-track, the original concept of the album got lost or, even worse, so screwed up that you got a different album-level message than what the vinyl album gave you.
And some people wonder why 8-tracks died.
Of course, at this point you may be asking, "Why would anyone go to all that trouble to listen to 'Miss America' over and over and over again?"
Well, Greg, if you must know, sometimes when you're a teenage boy, you get a crush on a girl that treats each day of her life like a beauty pageant. And she starts up a relationship with you because either (a) she's interested in how good it might make her look to others (mostly other girls) if she's with you OR (b) she wants to avoid having to be with a boy that she thinks will make her look worse than if she's with you. She won't be really interested in how good you make her feel about herself. She'll care more about what others think--even more than what she thinks about you in her heart.
Your relationship with this girl will last exactly as long as she thinks you make her look good. But if she thinks being with you makes her less attractive to others (mostly other girls), then she'll dump you so fast you won't even realize it's happened yet. You'll think you're still in a relationship with her, but she's already moved on to some other teenage boy that she thinks will make her look better. And because she's really self-centered and doesn't care about your feelings, you'll have to hear about how your relationship is over from one of her girlfriends, who will accidentally say something about how she's dating someone besides you, and you just overhear it and realize you've been dumped.
Most likely this event will occur during a date you had planned well before your girl dumped you, and she's just out with you on the date because she doesn't want to have to tell you it's over to your face, but you'll be sitting next to her thinking you're on this date because she still wants to be with you. You'll be holding a fondue stick with something stuck on the end of it that is fully submerged in a pot of boiling cheese, and that's when your girl's girlfriend lets it slip that your date for the evening is now dating someone else behind your back. And that's when you'll decide to pretend like you didn't even hear what was said because you were talking to someone else at the time it was said, but you still overheard it.
Then you'll try to fake them all out by keeping up the conversation you were having with someone else, and you then make a joke about melted cheese to the group just to make everyone think you're having a great time and didn't actually hear that you've been dumped. And then you'll pull out the fondue stick and take whatever it is that's on the end of the stick (you don't remember anymore because your brain is reeling) and jam it into your mouth. And as you chew on it without even caring that its damn hot cheese, you will realize you've played the fool for the past month of your life.
But because you don't want to ruin the date for your friends that are on it with you, you don't confront her about it. You just sit next to her on the couch while you watch Ponyboy and his fellow greasers meet a tragic (and hopefully violent) end. And you'll wish to yourself that you were actually in the movie so that you could take Johnny Cade's switchblade and plunge it through your own right eye socket into your brain so that you can somehow stop thinking about what just happened.
After that, you'll drive home after the date with your friends, because she is staying behind to sleep over at her friend's house, and you'll lay on your bed and play the events of the past month through your head over and over and over until you fall asleep from exhaustion.
But the next morning you'll wake up super-pissed, and that's when you need a song like this to make you feel better. And you'll want to listen to it over and over and over, because once you get super-pissed about something, you tend to stay that way for a long, long time.
Of course, that's all just a hypothetical scenario. I made it up as an example of a possible reason for repeatedly listening to "Miss America" on a stereo system with the world's most frustrating piece of music technology--the 8-track player.
Fortunately, with today's technology, you don't have to use your finger to punch a button anymore. We have now advanced so far technologically that now all you have to do is use your finger to click a virtual button--like the one in the middle of the video below.
During my senior year, I liked to play "Miss America" and immediately follow it up with "Those Shoes." I did that so often that the two songs became pretty much inseparably connected in my mind. Of course you hardly ever hear "Miss America" or "Those Shoes" on the radio anymore. That's why about five years ago, when I was driving at night on the interstate by Mountain Home, I got really excited when "Miss America" came on the radio. I cranked up the volume and sang/yelled along with James Young without missing a single lyric. It had been a while since I heard it, so I was more than a little proud of myself for remembering it all. And at the end of the song, just as "Miss America" repeated and the guitars faded, I said aloud to myself, "Oh, man, I wish they'd play 'Those Shoes' now." And guess what--without even taking a break for a commercial or annoying DJ talk, "Those Shoes" began to play! I yelled "YEAH!" and sang/talk-boxed my way down the road in complete radio-induced ecstasy.
Truth be told, I probably like "Miss America" much more than "Those Shoes," but I wanted them to be listed next to each other in my Top 200 because in my mind, both as a teenager back then and even now, so many (too many) years later, the two songs are inseparable. The only thing that might possibly split them apart is a song about some damn hot cheese.
Mmmmmmm....after seeing all that glorious gooeyness, I can't help but hanker' for a hunka!
I don't remember how or when it happened, but an 8-track of Styx's "The Grand Illusion" somehow made it into the house.
 |
| You want to hear it when? Baah-ha-ha-ha-ha! |
Program 1 (9:46)
1 The Grand Illusion
2 Miss America
Program 2 (9:46)
1 Superstars
2 Man In The Wilderness
Program 3 (9:46)
1 Come Sail Away
2 Castle Walls (Part 1)
Program 4 (9:46)
1 Castle Walls (Part 2)
2 Fooling Yourself (The Angry Young Man)
3 The Grand Finale
You'll notice that "Miss America" started in the middle of Program 1. This meant that I either had to listen to "The Grand Illusion" first, or listen to the song that came first in some other Program. I usually listened to "Come Sail Away," but not all the way to the end. If I wanted to skip to hear "Miss America in its entirety, I could only listen to part of "Come Sail Away" and then skip at just the right time to Program 1. Then if I wanted to listen to "Miss America" again, I had to first listen to either "The Grand Illusion," "Superstars," or "Come Sail Away" again.
Why not skip to Program 4 and listen to "Castle Walls (Part 2)? Because the idiots that invented this format would only allow 9 minutes and 46 seconds of music to be on any one program. Since "Come Sail Away" is a long song, they couldn't get through all of "Castle Walls" in Program 3. This meant that somewhere in the middle of the "Castle Walls" song, the music would stop for a second and...ka-chunk...it would advance to Program 4 where the song would continue where it left off, thus ruining the song completely. That is why I don't know the lyrics to "Castle Walls"--the incomplete Part 1 of the song was always competing with "Miss America." And do you know why Miss America is called Miss America? Because she blew away all the competition! If she hadn't eliminated the competition, she'd be called Miss Ohio!
 |
| Miss America 1985 -- Charlene Wells |
 |
| Miss Ohio -- Charlene's closest competition. And yes, this is the best (and only) picture I could find on the interwebs. |
And some people wonder why 8-tracks died.
Of course, at this point you may be asking, "Why would anyone go to all that trouble to listen to 'Miss America' over and over and over again?"
Well, Greg, if you must know, sometimes when you're a teenage boy, you get a crush on a girl that treats each day of her life like a beauty pageant. And she starts up a relationship with you because either (a) she's interested in how good it might make her look to others (mostly other girls) if she's with you OR (b) she wants to avoid having to be with a boy that she thinks will make her look worse than if she's with you. She won't be really interested in how good you make her feel about herself. She'll care more about what others think--even more than what she thinks about you in her heart.
Your relationship with this girl will last exactly as long as she thinks you make her look good. But if she thinks being with you makes her less attractive to others (mostly other girls), then she'll dump you so fast you won't even realize it's happened yet. You'll think you're still in a relationship with her, but she's already moved on to some other teenage boy that she thinks will make her look better. And because she's really self-centered and doesn't care about your feelings, you'll have to hear about how your relationship is over from one of her girlfriends, who will accidentally say something about how she's dating someone besides you, and you just overhear it and realize you've been dumped.
Most likely this event will occur during a date you had planned well before your girl dumped you, and she's just out with you on the date because she doesn't want to have to tell you it's over to your face, but you'll be sitting next to her thinking you're on this date because she still wants to be with you. You'll be holding a fondue stick with something stuck on the end of it that is fully submerged in a pot of boiling cheese, and that's when your girl's girlfriend lets it slip that your date for the evening is now dating someone else behind your back. And that's when you'll decide to pretend like you didn't even hear what was said because you were talking to someone else at the time it was said, but you still overheard it.
Then you'll try to fake them all out by keeping up the conversation you were having with someone else, and you then make a joke about melted cheese to the group just to make everyone think you're having a great time and didn't actually hear that you've been dumped. And then you'll pull out the fondue stick and take whatever it is that's on the end of the stick (you don't remember anymore because your brain is reeling) and jam it into your mouth. And as you chew on it without even caring that its damn hot cheese, you will realize you've played the fool for the past month of your life.
But because you don't want to ruin the date for your friends that are on it with you, you don't confront her about it. You just sit next to her on the couch while you watch Ponyboy and his fellow greasers meet a tragic (and hopefully violent) end. And you'll wish to yourself that you were actually in the movie so that you could take Johnny Cade's switchblade and plunge it through your own right eye socket into your brain so that you can somehow stop thinking about what just happened.
After that, you'll drive home after the date with your friends, because she is staying behind to sleep over at her friend's house, and you'll lay on your bed and play the events of the past month through your head over and over and over until you fall asleep from exhaustion.
But the next morning you'll wake up super-pissed, and that's when you need a song like this to make you feel better. And you'll want to listen to it over and over and over, because once you get super-pissed about something, you tend to stay that way for a long, long time.
Of course, that's all just a hypothetical scenario. I made it up as an example of a possible reason for repeatedly listening to "Miss America" on a stereo system with the world's most frustrating piece of music technology--the 8-track player.
Fortunately, with today's technology, you don't have to use your finger to punch a button anymore. We have now advanced so far technologically that now all you have to do is use your finger to click a virtual button--like the one in the middle of the video below.
During my senior year, I liked to play "Miss America" and immediately follow it up with "Those Shoes." I did that so often that the two songs became pretty much inseparably connected in my mind. Of course you hardly ever hear "Miss America" or "Those Shoes" on the radio anymore. That's why about five years ago, when I was driving at night on the interstate by Mountain Home, I got really excited when "Miss America" came on the radio. I cranked up the volume and sang/yelled along with James Young without missing a single lyric. It had been a while since I heard it, so I was more than a little proud of myself for remembering it all. And at the end of the song, just as "Miss America" repeated and the guitars faded, I said aloud to myself, "Oh, man, I wish they'd play 'Those Shoes' now." And guess what--without even taking a break for a commercial or annoying DJ talk, "Those Shoes" began to play! I yelled "YEAH!" and sang/talk-boxed my way down the road in complete radio-induced ecstasy.
Truth be told, I probably like "Miss America" much more than "Those Shoes," but I wanted them to be listed next to each other in my Top 200 because in my mind, both as a teenager back then and even now, so many (too many) years later, the two songs are inseparable. The only thing that might possibly split them apart is a song about some damn hot cheese.
Mmmmmmm....after seeing all that glorious gooeyness, I can't help but hanker' for a hunka!
Thursday, May 4, 2017
102. Pants are NOT optional!
102. "Those Shoes" by The Eagles
Around 1977-78 all of us kids started complaining to our parents about the crappy record player we had and how bad our records sounded on it. Never being one to argue against the obvious, Dad bought us a stereo system complete with an 8-track player. After making that purchase, my sister Renda pointed out that the new stereo should come with some new records to play on it or 8-track tapes to jam in it. That way we could really hear how good the stereo effects were. Dad told her to pick out some, so she selected an assortment of albums that would have a huge impact my musical tastes. Among those she bought were Queen's "A Night at the Opera" and The Eagles first greatest hits compilation that covered the pre-Walsh years (1971-1975). I soon had all the songs memorized, and I became a lifelong fan of both bands.
Our collection of Queen and Eagles albums grew over the years, and when the Eagles released "The Long Run" in 1979, it got so much play on our home stereo that I ended up memorizing all the songs on that album too. Among them is "Those Shoes"--a song tailor-made for those moments when I pondered the question, "What does she see in that guy? He's just a predator after one thing! Doesn't she realize where that's going to lead?"
I loved pretty much everything about this song--the bass-line, the crunchy guitar chords, high-hat cymbals and maracas simmering in the background, the double talk-box guitars, the whisper-singing in the bridge, and the talk-box "butt-outs" at the end. (The talk-box makes it sound like "bud-owp" to me.) These all combined to make it an excellent song for those days when I had an extra-dark mood going.
Bud-owp! Bud-owp!
The Eagles had a lot of hits on The Long Run, including "The Long Run" (obviously!), "I Can't Tell You Why?" (an excellent companion song to "Don't Ask Me Why"), "In the City," and "Heartache Tonight." But my favorites beside "Those Shoes" were "Teenage Jail" and "The Greeks Don't Want No Freaks." The critics claimed that the latter song was only a bit of comic relief from all the dark themes covered on the album. I agree. In fact, I think that "Greeks" is a prime example of good rock 'n' roll comic relief. To show just how good it is, I'll contrast it with the epitome of bad rock 'n' roll comic relief.
Among the albums Renda bought was this 8-track compilation of dance music that included "Macho Man" and "Y.M.C.A" by the Village People, "Brick House" by The Commodores, and "Disco Duck" by Rick Dees and His Cast of Idiots.
That's right. I can sing all the lyrics to "Disco Duck." Including the duck-voice parts.
It's not something I'm proud of.
Now, in order for me to share the shame of that accomplishment, let's go ahead and descend into the fifth circle of music hell and watch Rick perform the song on American Bandstand. I know you're going to be tempted to not watch the entire thing, but you mustn't give into that completely understandable urge. You've got to listen to it all carefully for a particularly excellent question from Dick Clark.
The answer to Dick's question can only be "Fleeing the scene of the crime." It's this kind of television that makes me embarrassed to be an American. You wouldn't see something this ridiculous being shown on a respectable European television network like the BBC.
What?! You've got footage to the contrary? I don't believe it!
And now we know why all ducks should be required to wear pants. No exceptions, Donald!
Okay. I'm sure we can all agree that the only way the two videos above could be bested is with an over-the-top performance featuring Rick Dees in a white Elvis pantsuit and the Solid Gold dancers wearing body-hugging spandex that's been dipped in a vat of French's mustard.
Really?! YOU feel stupid singing it, Rick?! Imagine how WE feel watching it! This is network television, for Pete's sake! And you just HAD to drag Lisa Hartman into this nationally televised debacle, didn't you?! She wouldn't whore out her musical talent in a desperate attempt to bump TV ratings up and--
What? She sang what?! Where?! While wearing what?! Seriously?! You have footage of Lisa Hartman singing "If Love Must Go" on an episode of "Knot's Landing while wearing Lydia's sparkly alien shoulder-pads that she stole off "V" mothership?!"
HO, BOY! If I can watch Lisa Hartman sing in those shoulder-pads while all of the other Knot's Landing cast members drink booze, I'd definitely want to see that on network television! Do you think her sad face and melancholy lyrics will make any of them cry? I hope so!
Take heart, Michele Lee. Lisa will eventually find love by marrying country music superstar Clint Black. And after that beautiful song, I now have hope that we'll all find love. Eventually.
Except for Rick Dees.
Around 1977-78 all of us kids started complaining to our parents about the crappy record player we had and how bad our records sounded on it. Never being one to argue against the obvious, Dad bought us a stereo system complete with an 8-track player. After making that purchase, my sister Renda pointed out that the new stereo should come with some new records to play on it or 8-track tapes to jam in it. That way we could really hear how good the stereo effects were. Dad told her to pick out some, so she selected an assortment of albums that would have a huge impact my musical tastes. Among those she bought were Queen's "A Night at the Opera" and The Eagles first greatest hits compilation that covered the pre-Walsh years (1971-1975). I soon had all the songs memorized, and I became a lifelong fan of both bands.
Our collection of Queen and Eagles albums grew over the years, and when the Eagles released "The Long Run" in 1979, it got so much play on our home stereo that I ended up memorizing all the songs on that album too. Among them is "Those Shoes"--a song tailor-made for those moments when I pondered the question, "What does she see in that guy? He's just a predator after one thing! Doesn't she realize where that's going to lead?"
I loved pretty much everything about this song--the bass-line, the crunchy guitar chords, high-hat cymbals and maracas simmering in the background, the double talk-box guitars, the whisper-singing in the bridge, and the talk-box "butt-outs" at the end. (The talk-box makes it sound like "bud-owp" to me.) These all combined to make it an excellent song for those days when I had an extra-dark mood going.
Bud-owp! Bud-owp!
The Eagles had a lot of hits on The Long Run, including "The Long Run" (obviously!), "I Can't Tell You Why?" (an excellent companion song to "Don't Ask Me Why"), "In the City," and "Heartache Tonight." But my favorites beside "Those Shoes" were "Teenage Jail" and "The Greeks Don't Want No Freaks." The critics claimed that the latter song was only a bit of comic relief from all the dark themes covered on the album. I agree. In fact, I think that "Greeks" is a prime example of good rock 'n' roll comic relief. To show just how good it is, I'll contrast it with the epitome of bad rock 'n' roll comic relief.
Among the albums Renda bought was this 8-track compilation of dance music that included "Macho Man" and "Y.M.C.A" by the Village People, "Brick House" by The Commodores, and "Disco Duck" by Rick Dees and His Cast of Idiots.
That's right. I can sing all the lyrics to "Disco Duck." Including the duck-voice parts.
It's not something I'm proud of.
Now, in order for me to share the shame of that accomplishment, let's go ahead and descend into the fifth circle of music hell and watch Rick perform the song on American Bandstand. I know you're going to be tempted to not watch the entire thing, but you mustn't give into that completely understandable urge. You've got to listen to it all carefully for a particularly excellent question from Dick Clark.
The answer to Dick's question can only be "Fleeing the scene of the crime." It's this kind of television that makes me embarrassed to be an American. You wouldn't see something this ridiculous being shown on a respectable European television network like the BBC.
What?! You've got footage to the contrary? I don't believe it!
And now we know why all ducks should be required to wear pants. No exceptions, Donald!
Okay. I'm sure we can all agree that the only way the two videos above could be bested is with an over-the-top performance featuring Rick Dees in a white Elvis pantsuit and the Solid Gold dancers wearing body-hugging spandex that's been dipped in a vat of French's mustard.
Really?! YOU feel stupid singing it, Rick?! Imagine how WE feel watching it! This is network television, for Pete's sake! And you just HAD to drag Lisa Hartman into this nationally televised debacle, didn't you?! She wouldn't whore out her musical talent in a desperate attempt to bump TV ratings up and--
What? She sang what?! Where?! While wearing what?! Seriously?! You have footage of Lisa Hartman singing "If Love Must Go" on an episode of "Knot's Landing while wearing Lydia's sparkly alien shoulder-pads that she stole off "V" mothership?!"
All aliens prefer to stand with arms akimbo and hands knotted into fists.
HO, BOY! If I can watch Lisa Hartman sing in those shoulder-pads while all of the other Knot's Landing cast members drink booze, I'd definitely want to see that on network television! Do you think her sad face and melancholy lyrics will make any of them cry? I hope so!
Take heart, Michele Lee. Lisa will eventually find love by marrying country music superstar Clint Black. And after that beautiful song, I now have hope that we'll all find love. Eventually.
Except for Rick Dees.
Wednesday, May 3, 2017
103. He's got a Type 2 personality
103. "Queen of the Broken Hearts" by Loverboy
You'd probably think that if I'm going to choose a Loverboy song to be on the list, it would be "Working for the Weekend." Why? Because it starts with three glorious clunks on a cowbell! It's also got a driving beat, galloping guitars, and lung-busting screams in the lyrics--"You wanna be in the show-oh? Come on, baby, lets GO!"
Although, now that I think about it, "Working" doesn't have anything near the lyric-scream ratio found in "The Kid is Hot Tonight."
On just WhOA-ohs alone, "The Kid" crushes "Working" when it comes to lyric-scream ratios. But that's partly because Canadian bands measure their ratios on the Metric Scale, which can really only be understood by science nerds who measure everything in Metrics. How tall is it? One Metric. How fast is it? One Metric. How heavy is it? One Metric.
Yes, indeed, scientists love to measure all kinds of stuff. It's 93% (that's in Metric percentages) of what they do. The other 7% is classified. And do you know how often they measure all this stuff? Well, scientists would say "every Metric," but I'd say "a shitload." Because Mr. Brown and Mr. Divesti turned me off to science in junior high, there's no way I'll ever be able to figure out the algorithm to convert Canadian Metric lyric-screams into commonly understood units of measure like Pounds and Gallons and Feet and Seconds and Tablespoons and Pinches and Smidgens and Angles and Watts and Volts and Acres and Dollars and Hands and Horses and Hair Breadths and Football Fields and Olympic Swimming Pools and Grand Canyons and Dog Years and Shakes of Lambs' Tails and New York Minutes and Swedish Miles and Bakers Dozens and Bushels and Pecks and Carrots and Cubits and Firkins and Farthings and Shekels and Talents and Shibloms and Shiblums and Klicks and Jiffies and Drams and Machs and G-forces and Furlongs and Fathoms and Knots and Fortnights and Stones and Proofs and Scovilles and Bauds and Bytes and Parsecs and Star Dates and Kellicams and Kelvins and Roentgens and Langleys and Stokes and Richter Magnitudes and Bortle Classes and Bristol Types*. You know, something SIMPLE for crying out loud!
Anyway, "Working" was probably my favorite Loverboy song until that "Chippendales" skit on SNL--which is near the tippy-top of my Top 200 SNL skits list. See, the problem is that whenever I hear "Working for the Weekend" now, I think of that skit. And then I think of how I look so much, much more like Barney than Adrian. Also, the song does not conjure up Arimo Mafia and junior-senior high school time-period memories like "Queen of the Broken Hearts" does. And obviously, that's a factor that weighs heavily in any selection for this list.
Since "Queen of the Broken Hearts" was one of the vinyl singles I purchased with my own money to play at the school dances, it got OODLES of play on the home stereo, especially when I lifted weights in my bedroom, which was just the oversized hallway in our basement.
That's right. I lived in the basement hallway.
Why? Because when Randy left the day after he graduated, Mom came to me and said that the twins, who had been sleeping in the hallway, needed more privacy while they were dressing because they were getting older, and so I was now going to be kicked out of the bedroom where I had lived since I was three years old and take up residence in the hallway from that very day until I went to college. Of course, this meant zero privacy for me too. But that was okay, since I didn't care if my sisters saw me in my Fruit-of-the-Looms. After all, they saw me in my swimsuit on a daily basis when I was lifeguarding during the summer. (Mom used to tell me to put a shirt on when I walked around shirtless at home. My retort was that I got paid hundreds of dollars to walk around all day in public with my shirt off, so why couldn't I have it off in the privacy of my own home?) The twins had put up these big bed-sheet curtains in the hallway to try to give themselves some privacy, but I left them open and just dressed in the furnace/fruit room. I had my bed and a little area next to it where I could put the stereo and my weights. I had the stereo speakers on both sides of my bed so I could lay in bed and listen to the stereo effects on records and FM radio stations. And anytime I wanted to work out, I could crank up the music and do a ridiculous number of barbell reps to get my biceps and triceps and pecs and lats all buffed up.
But I digress.
"Queen of the Broken Hearts" was also one of the songs I listened to anytime I felt really pissed at being rejected by my high-school crushes because they liked some other boy better. (Prepare yourself. There's a whole Quimby of these songs coming up on this list.) The lyrics are best sung with a scornful tone that says, "Oh, you think you're soooooo special!" Basically, take the attitude you hear on Billy Joel's "Big Shot" and lay it on just as thick with this song.
You were born with it.
And now you got it.
And oooh you flaunt it!
And you don't care,
'Cause nothin's gonna bring you down,
No!
Hey, kids! Do you like playing hide-and-seek with raven-haired Amazonian beauties that are holed up in their secret, high-tech desert-mountain lair and will only emerge in the daylight to sexy-pose and strut on boulders but can be lured out at night to flashdance in a spotlight whenever loud rock music is played on dust-covered instruments by sweaty men that like to point and clench their fists? Does your idea of dressing up for a date in the desert involve leather pants and chest hair? Most importantly--and I can't believe I even have to ask this question--do you like bandanas?
You do?!
Then prepare yourself for eleven score and tensome eyeblinks of sheer rock 'n' roll wonderment!
* No, I'm not making this up. Bristol Types are part of an actual scale that measures the hardness or the softness of human stools. And from the look on Mike Reno's face throughout the above video, I'd say he's holding back a Type 2 and moving light speed towards a Type 1. (I blame it on dehydration.)
You'd probably think that if I'm going to choose a Loverboy song to be on the list, it would be "Working for the Weekend." Why? Because it starts with three glorious clunks on a cowbell! It's also got a driving beat, galloping guitars, and lung-busting screams in the lyrics--"You wanna be in the show-oh? Come on, baby, lets GO!"
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| Quantum Records--BOTH sides are the A side! |
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| Musical Law of Thermodynamics--As the entropy of the title increases, so do record sales. |
On just WhOA-ohs alone, "The Kid" crushes "Working" when it comes to lyric-scream ratios. But that's partly because Canadian bands measure their ratios on the Metric Scale, which can really only be understood by science nerds who measure everything in Metrics. How tall is it? One Metric. How fast is it? One Metric. How heavy is it? One Metric.
Yes, indeed, scientists love to measure all kinds of stuff. It's 93% (that's in Metric percentages) of what they do. The other 7% is classified. And do you know how often they measure all this stuff? Well, scientists would say "every Metric," but I'd say "a shitload." Because Mr. Brown and Mr. Divesti turned me off to science in junior high, there's no way I'll ever be able to figure out the algorithm to convert Canadian Metric lyric-screams into commonly understood units of measure like Pounds and Gallons and Feet and Seconds and Tablespoons and Pinches and Smidgens and Angles and Watts and Volts and Acres and Dollars and Hands and Horses and Hair Breadths and Football Fields and Olympic Swimming Pools and Grand Canyons and Dog Years and Shakes of Lambs' Tails and New York Minutes and Swedish Miles and Bakers Dozens and Bushels and Pecks and Carrots and Cubits and Firkins and Farthings and Shekels and Talents and Shibloms and Shiblums and Klicks and Jiffies and Drams and Machs and G-forces and Furlongs and Fathoms and Knots and Fortnights and Stones and Proofs and Scovilles and Bauds and Bytes and Parsecs and Star Dates and Kellicams and Kelvins and Roentgens and Langleys and Stokes and Richter Magnitudes and Bortle Classes and Bristol Types*. You know, something SIMPLE for crying out loud!
Anyway, "Working" was probably my favorite Loverboy song until that "Chippendales" skit on SNL--which is near the tippy-top of my Top 200 SNL skits list. See, the problem is that whenever I hear "Working for the Weekend" now, I think of that skit. And then I think of how I look so much, much more like Barney than Adrian. Also, the song does not conjure up Arimo Mafia and junior-senior high school time-period memories like "Queen of the Broken Hearts" does. And obviously, that's a factor that weighs heavily in any selection for this list.
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| Not to be confused with Queenie Henderson of the Broken Hearts |
That's right. I lived in the basement hallway.
Why? Because when Randy left the day after he graduated, Mom came to me and said that the twins, who had been sleeping in the hallway, needed more privacy while they were dressing because they were getting older, and so I was now going to be kicked out of the bedroom where I had lived since I was three years old and take up residence in the hallway from that very day until I went to college. Of course, this meant zero privacy for me too. But that was okay, since I didn't care if my sisters saw me in my Fruit-of-the-Looms. After all, they saw me in my swimsuit on a daily basis when I was lifeguarding during the summer. (Mom used to tell me to put a shirt on when I walked around shirtless at home. My retort was that I got paid hundreds of dollars to walk around all day in public with my shirt off, so why couldn't I have it off in the privacy of my own home?) The twins had put up these big bed-sheet curtains in the hallway to try to give themselves some privacy, but I left them open and just dressed in the furnace/fruit room. I had my bed and a little area next to it where I could put the stereo and my weights. I had the stereo speakers on both sides of my bed so I could lay in bed and listen to the stereo effects on records and FM radio stations. And anytime I wanted to work out, I could crank up the music and do a ridiculous number of barbell reps to get my biceps and triceps and pecs and lats all buffed up.
But I digress.
"Queen of the Broken Hearts" was also one of the songs I listened to anytime I felt really pissed at being rejected by my high-school crushes because they liked some other boy better. (Prepare yourself. There's a whole Quimby of these songs coming up on this list.) The lyrics are best sung with a scornful tone that says, "Oh, you think you're soooooo special!" Basically, take the attitude you hear on Billy Joel's "Big Shot" and lay it on just as thick with this song.
You were born with it.
And now you got it.
And oooh you flaunt it!
And you don't care,
'Cause nothin's gonna bring you down,
No!
Hey, kids! Do you like playing hide-and-seek with raven-haired Amazonian beauties that are holed up in their secret, high-tech desert-mountain lair and will only emerge in the daylight to sexy-pose and strut on boulders but can be lured out at night to flashdance in a spotlight whenever loud rock music is played on dust-covered instruments by sweaty men that like to point and clench their fists? Does your idea of dressing up for a date in the desert involve leather pants and chest hair? Most importantly--and I can't believe I even have to ask this question--do you like bandanas?
You do?!
Then prepare yourself for eleven score and tensome eyeblinks of sheer rock 'n' roll wonderment!
* No, I'm not making this up. Bristol Types are part of an actual scale that measures the hardness or the softness of human stools. And from the look on Mike Reno's face throughout the above video, I'd say he's holding back a Type 2 and moving light speed towards a Type 1. (I blame it on dehydration.)
Tuesday, May 2, 2017
104. Defend Kamchatka!
104. "Better Be Good to Me" by Tina Turner
Why this song?
Reason #1. I saw this video my freshman year at Ricks in the TV room at Ensign Hall at least a hundred times. (Same TV room where I wasted Saturday afternoons playing Risk.)
Reason #2. Cowbell solo! (The video version of the song is missing two bars of the cowbell solo. Ripoff!)
Reason #3. It's fun to sing like Tina Turner. Why? Because nothing's funnerer than lip pouting while you sing! Isn't that right, Mick?
Wouldn't you agree Billy?
Hey, Freddy, back me up on this one.
Thanks, Freddy. You can go put on some real pants now.
Anyone else want to support me on this point?
Thanks, Derek. Thanks, Hansel. Although you are fictional characters and aren't really singers or models or even actors, your support is noted. Now onto--
Yes, Mick. You've already put in your two--
Yes! Thank you, Mick! Your angry pout is just fine. The snarl-pout combo is fascin--
What the--?! Who the hell are--
Nobody's asking you, Beiber! Don't you have something better to do than annoy us?! Why don't you go join Freddy, and the two of you can strut around the stage with your shirts off!
Okay! Okay! Mick! We got it! You've made your point! Hey, there was some cocaine left over from the "Rapture" video brainstorming session. You might want to go check it--
And Mick's gone.
Okay. Now where was I? Oh, yeah--"You Better Be Good to Me."
This song may very well have the best lip-pouting lyrics ever. The pouting in the first verse alone can cause lip cramps. It's an angry pout too, not one of those trying-to-be-sexy pouts. (Beiber? Are you there? No? Oh, he and Freddy must have gone back to the Blondie entry with Mick. Enjoy it while it lasts, boys!)
Yes, Tina's angry pout is exquisite. Although, I have to say, it is still a little sexy. But in an angry-sexy way. How do you know if you're singing this song right? You'll know if, at the end of the song, you're super-pissed at a past lover that jilted you AND you can't feel your lips anymore.
Reason #4. When it came out, I found the lyrics quite helpful in keeping past torches I had carried completely doused. (Should I be fractured by their lack of devotion? [Pout] Should I? [Pout] Should I?! [Super-pout])
Reason #5. Did I mention the cowbell solo?
COWBELL! SOLO!
'Nuff said! [Angry pout]
Why this song?
Reason #1. I saw this video my freshman year at Ricks in the TV room at Ensign Hall at least a hundred times. (Same TV room where I wasted Saturday afternoons playing Risk.)
Reason #2. Cowbell solo! (The video version of the song is missing two bars of the cowbell solo. Ripoff!)
Reason #3. It's fun to sing like Tina Turner. Why? Because nothing's funnerer than lip pouting while you sing! Isn't that right, Mick?
Wouldn't you agree Billy?
Hey, Freddy, back me up on this one.
Thanks, Freddy. You can go put on some real pants now.
Anyone else want to support me on this point?
Thanks, Derek. Thanks, Hansel. Although you are fictional characters and aren't really singers or models or even actors, your support is noted. Now onto--
Yes, Mick. You've already put in your two--
Yes! Thank you, Mick! Your angry pout is just fine. The snarl-pout combo is fascin--
What the--?! Who the hell are--
Nobody's asking you, Beiber! Don't you have something better to do than annoy us?! Why don't you go join Freddy, and the two of you can strut around the stage with your shirts off!
Okay! Okay! Mick! We got it! You've made your point! Hey, there was some cocaine left over from the "Rapture" video brainstorming session. You might want to go check it--
And Mick's gone.
Okay. Now where was I? Oh, yeah--"You Better Be Good to Me."
This song may very well have the best lip-pouting lyrics ever. The pouting in the first verse alone can cause lip cramps. It's an angry pout too, not one of those trying-to-be-sexy pouts. (Beiber? Are you there? No? Oh, he and Freddy must have gone back to the Blondie entry with Mick. Enjoy it while it lasts, boys!)
Yes, Tina's angry pout is exquisite. Although, I have to say, it is still a little sexy. But in an angry-sexy way. How do you know if you're singing this song right? You'll know if, at the end of the song, you're super-pissed at a past lover that jilted you AND you can't feel your lips anymore.
Reason #4. When it came out, I found the lyrics quite helpful in keeping past torches I had carried completely doused. (Should I be fractured by their lack of devotion? [Pout] Should I? [Pout] Should I?! [Super-pout])
Reason #5. Did I mention the cowbell solo?
COWBELL! SOLO!
'Nuff said! [Angry pout]
Monday, May 1, 2017
105. Cue the goat!
105. "Rapture" by Blondie
I have a very specific memory of this song. I remember sitting by myself in the truck in the dark in front of my house listening to this song on the radio and thinking to myself, "What is this rap thing she's doing? I like it! I wonder if it will ever become popular?"
The video for this song is what happens when an MTV video producer rents a really big writers' room and invites musicians, DJs, department store mannequin dressers, hookers, graffiti artists, spray paint lobbyists, fashion designers, top hat manufacturers, Uncle Sam, a hissing-shirtless-black-dude wearing white pants and a war bonnet, potted plant sellers, people needing to use a public phone, ballerinas, furriers, goat herders, hopping kilt-makers, stiff-necked police officers, line dancers, coat checkers, homeless dentists, and flashing-red-light-sunglasses wholesalers to all gather at the writer's table and spend the evening snorting cocaine.
I have a very specific memory of this song. I remember sitting by myself in the truck in the dark in front of my house listening to this song on the radio and thinking to myself, "What is this rap thing she's doing? I like it! I wonder if it will ever become popular?"
The video for this song is what happens when an MTV video producer rents a really big writers' room and invites musicians, DJs, department store mannequin dressers, hookers, graffiti artists, spray paint lobbyists, fashion designers, top hat manufacturers, Uncle Sam, a hissing-shirtless-black-dude wearing white pants and a war bonnet, potted plant sellers, people needing to use a public phone, ballerinas, furriers, goat herders, hopping kilt-makers, stiff-necked police officers, line dancers, coat checkers, homeless dentists, and flashing-red-light-sunglasses wholesalers to all gather at the writer's table and spend the evening snorting cocaine.
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