Mark GouldMUSIC NOTES

By Mark T. Gould
 

Songs We Love to Hate


  Contrary to what many of us have been led to believe, there are actually four topics that should never be discussed. We all know the first three: sex, religion and politics.

Here’s the fourth: a list of songs that, well, really stink. As in awful. As in terrible. As in, I never want to hear them again. So, with little else to do, and with the laziness of summer setting in, I set out to construct, with a little help from my friends, a list of the Ten Worst Songs Ever.

Now, before you go getting all riled up about this, I will guarantee that each person who reads this will agree with at least half of the songs on the list. The rest, of course, will inundate this poor magazine with e-mails, faxes, bomb threats and the like, given that I have torpedoed their favorites.

Well, it is a free country, and I am entitled to my opinion. And, if memory serves, I just might be right.

There are several ways that a song can make a list like this. One is that the performance, the first time you hear it, is so bad that it makes you reach for the nearest air sickness bag. A second possibility is that the subject matter is so despicable that it drives you to fury (or fits of laughter, if that be the case). A third, and this can ruin even the best of songs, is mindless repetition via commercials or videos has taken away any interest we had in hearing the song again (I mean, haven’t we heard enough of "Like a Rock" and "Everyday People?" Two wonderful songs in their own regard, but now, every time I hear them, I think of cars and trucks, which, I guess, is the point). A fourth, and this is a bit amorphous, is that it’s a song that reminds us of a private personal experience from our past, be it our significant other breaking up with us, or our best friend moved away or some such life experience that happened so long ago, but was so important at the time, that the song we heard at the time has stuck with us-even though we’d do anything to get rid of its memory.

In putting this together, I actually created some ground rules for myself that cut down the sheer number of songs that might be considered for inclusion on this list. First, I didn’t want to include specific genres of music, so I could not say, for example, all disco songs (that would be too easy) or all rap songs belong on the list. Second, I decided not to consider some songs by what I consider to be generically boring groups, like the Grateful Dead, Pink Floyd, and Emerson, Lake & Palmer ( I can feel the knives sharpening already, and we aren’t even to the list). Third, and you can thank my lovely wife for this, I decided not to include any of what she calls "romantic songs," because she says "it’ll make you sound like a chauvinist and you’re not."

Thanks, honey. I think.

The one major fact that I recalled about bad songs while I compiled this list was how we can remember every stupid word, every inane chorus and every ridiculous melody change in them, but, at the same time, we can’t remember our anniversaries, spouses’ birthdays, bank account access codes, or social security numbers. We can hum the chorus from virtually every ditty we’ve heard in the past 20 years, no matter how hideous it was, but we can’t remember to pick up the laundry. Weird, huh? Quick test: hum the chorus to "Winchester Cathedral." See? Well, like the song says, that’s life.

Okay, in reverse order, here are, in my mind, the Ten Worst Songs Ever (one rule: read the whole list before you start bitching and whining):

Well, first, how about some that almost made the cut, but not quite (meaning they were bad, but not that bad).

"Best Friend’s Girl Friend," by The Cars. I have no idea why, but I hate the Cars. Always did. Always will. Probably my fault. And, I don’t see Ric and Paula together, either.

"Puppy Love," by Donny Osmond. Why didn’t Andy Williams deep six this guy and spare us?

"She’s Always a Woman to Me," by Billy Joel. Look, I love Billy Joel, but this smarmy song is just not one of his best efforts. It’ll probably be a standard in 20 years, which proves my point.

"Rose Garden," by Lynn Anderson. I beg your pardon, but this song is rotten.

"Close to You," by the Carpenters. Yes, I am aware that Karen played the drums and sang at the same time. For that, I am impressed. Yes, I know that she died, tragically. For that, I am sorry. For this song, I am not.

Those are only the runners-up. Here, in reverse order, are the Worst of the Worst:

10. "I Write the Songs," by Barry Manilow. That’s fine, just don’t ever write another one like this.

9. "Achy Breaky Heart," by Billy Ray Cyrus. Some people call this country music, which I find laughable. Hell, I just find the song laughable.

8. "My Ding a Ling," By Chuck Berry. Perhaps the most seminal of rock and roll founders, bestows us with a ditty about his, well, bitty. He nearly took down 15 years of prior greatness with this. And, to add insult to injury, it was his only Number One hit. Go figure.

7. "Ben," by Michael Jackson. Hey, it a love song about a freaking rat. And people think Mike’s weird now?

6. "Nights in White Satin," by the Moody Blues. I know, picking on a classic. I just never liked English art rock in general, and this song in particular.

5. "Free Bird," by Lynyrd Skynyrd. Another anthem that I’ve shot to hell. Just can’t take it. Maybe I could tolerate it, if they just cut about 40 minutes off it.

4. "Baby, I’m A Want You," by Bread. Some friends were talking about great songwriters a few months ago. Somebody brought up James Griffin. I left the room, and promptly threw up.

3. "For the Love of Him," by Bobbi Martin. While an old country boy like me appreciates the sentiment, you know, "make him your reason for living," this turned my stomach 25 years before the women’s movement got steam and would have boycotted it.

2. "You’re Having My Baby," by Paul Anka. No way. Not after you wrote this song.

 

And the number one, worst song ever is:

1."You Light Up My Life," by Debby Boone. It won an American Music Award. It garnered an Oscar. It delivered a Grammy. It was bad enough when her old man bastardized Little Richard, but this piece of schmaltz really did us in. When this was released, it really was the "Day the Music Died."

Any questions?

The author would like to thank his close friends Jon and Georgina Rosenbaum of Rosenbaum Illustrations in Stamford and Mark Mirando of Cutler’s Record Shop in New Haven for their input to this list. May we all go down together.


Comments to Mark T. Gould

Home