Dave Barry's Book of Bad Songs (Backlist eBook Program) (3 page)

But the king of the Bobbys, as far as the Bad Song Survey is concerned, is Bobby Goldsboro, who, in addition to “Honey,” gave the world “See the Funny Little Clown” and “Watching Scotty Grow.”

Speaking of repeat offenders, guess who wrote “Watching Scotty Grow”? Mac Davis! Mac got quite a few survey votes for “In the Ghetto,” “Stop and Smell the Roses,” “One Hell of a Woman,” and—above all—“Baby Don’t Get Hooked on Me,” which contains what some voters argued are the worst lyrics ever written:

Girl you’re a hot blooded woman, child

And it’s warm where you’re touching me

(For the record, Mac rhymed this with: “You’re seeing way too much in me.”)

While we’re on the woman-child genre, I should note that there was a large mass of survey-voter hostility toward Gary Puckett, of Gary Puckett and the Union Gap, who gave us “Woman, Woman,” “Young Girl,” and “This Girl Is a Woman Now.” Some voters argued persuasively that these are actually all the same song.

But if I had to name the one song that seemed to generate the most intense hatred, per voter, I’d have to go with “In the Year 2525,” the inexplicable 1969 hit by Zager & Evans—the song that sticks in your brain like a malignant growth; the song that consists of an endless string of upbeat lyrics such as:

In the year 4545

Ain’t gonna need your teeth, won’t need your eyes

You won’t find a thing to do

Nobody’s gonna look at you

One survey respondent, J. Raoul Brody, belongs to a group called the Society To Undertake the Preservation of Endangered Dumb Songs, or STUPEDS, which performs bad songs in public. Brody wrote:

We have been performing hundreds of dumb songs to dismayed audiences across the country (mostly in San Francisco) since 1980. For your information, our most heavily requested song is “Muskrat Love,” although “In the Year 2525” gets the most pronounced negative response—we’ve never made it past the first verse, whereas we’ve gotten all the way through “Honey” once or twice.

Running a close second to “In the Year 2525” on the hostility-per-voter ranking is “I’ve Never Been to Me,” by Charlene, which was recorded on the Motown—yes,
Motown
—label and in 1982 reached number three in the United States, despite lyrics such as:

I’ve been undressed by kings

And I’ve seen some things

That a woman ain’t supposed to see

Not to mention:

I spent my life exploring

The subtle whoring

That costs too much to be free

Right! Whatever that means!

Right behind “I’ve Never Been to Me” in the survey was a song that ranks extremely high on my personal list of songs that I would rather undergo a tax audit than listen to: “Seasons in the Sun,” sung by Terry Jacks. This is a song about a person who is dying, but not fast enough. It features lyrics such as:

The stars we could reach

Were just starfish on the beach

The words to “Seasons in the Sun” were written by Rod McKuen, who also wrote and sang “Jean.” There was only one vote in the Bad Song Survey for “Jean,” but it’s worth noting, because it came from Jim Hijiya, who offered an excellent revision of the lyrics:

Jean, Jean

You’re young and alive

Which beats being old

And dead

There were two strong finishers in the Bad Song Survey in the subcategory of Bad Songs Involving Horses. One of these was “A Horse with No Name,” by America, which many people cited because of the lyrics:

In the desert, you can remember your name

’cause there ain’t no one for to give you no pain

I myself have always found “A Horse with No Name” to be highly irritating. I agree with the comic Rich Jeni, who says: “You’re in a
desert
. You got nothin’ else to
do
. NAME THE FREAKIN’ HORSE.”

The other highly unpopular horse song is “Wildfire,” the song about a tragedy involving a girl who goes out searching for her lost pony, named Wildfire. This song is sung by Michael Murphey in such a way as to cause a lot of people to feel less than charitable (as an anonymous voter put it: “Break a leg, Wildfire.”).

One survey respondent, Steele Hinton, wrote a very thoughtful analysis of what exactly is wrong with this song. He was particularly unhappy with the part that goes:

Oh, they say she died one winter

When there came a killing frost

Hinton wrote:

This is a tragedy for them, of course, but not for the world—that’s what natural selection is all about. One can of course freeze to death in a “killing frost,” but no normal person or pony would freeze as a result of getting lost in the killing frost. Evidently Mr. Murphey is a Southern Californian, and imagines that a “killing frost” is equivalent to a “killer blizzard,” with blinding snow, wind, hail, lightning, sleet, fog, and deep darkness. Actually, “killing” in “killing frost” refers to your flowers and garden vegetables, and when one is forecast you should cover your tomatoes that are green and pick your ripe ones. A killing frost only happens when the sky is very clear and starry by night and deep blue in the morning—a fine day, if you don’t have tomatoes. Nobody ever got lost in one who wouldn’t get lost in July as well.

This makes sense to me, although I guess the song wouldn’t be quite as dramatic if it were about a girl running around desperately calling for her lost tomato, named Wildfire.

Here are some other songs that got mentioned a lot in the Bad Song Survey:

• “The Candy Man,” performed by Sammy Davis Jr.—If this song does not make you root for nuclear winter, then you are not human.
  
• “I Am Woman,” sung by Helen Reddy—Don’t get me wrong: I am all for gender equality. That’s why I feel that if a woman sings a song that has lyrics such as “See me standing toe to toe” and “I’m still an embryo with a long, long way to go,” she should be criticized just as a man would, especially if she also sings a song called “Leave Me Alone (Ruby Red Dress),” which seems to consist entirely of her singing the words “Leave me alone.”
  
• “My Ding-a-Ling,” by Chuck Berry—Chuck gave us a whole lot of great songs, and for that we will be forever grateful. But we already know WAY more than we want to about his ding-a-ling.
  
• “My Sharona,” by The Knack—If push came to shove, I would rather listen to Chuck sing about his ding-a-ling than The Knack sing about their Sharona.
  
• “Morning Train (Nine to Five),” sung by Sheena Easton. Her baby takes the morning train! He works from nine to five and then! He takes another home again! To find her waiting for him! Repeat!
  
• “The Night Chicago Died,” by Paper Lace
  ⁸
  —This song still arouses great hostility for both music and lyrics. Several voters especially objected to the line “Daddy was a cop on the east side of Chicago.” As Yvonne Koyzis observed: “There IS no east side of Chicago; just an awfully, awfully big lake. Daddy would’ve needed scuba gear to walk the beat.”
  
• “Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is?” by Chicago—Yes! Time to pass a law against playing this song! Also “Saturday in the Park”! Also “25 or 6 to 4”! Thanks for asking!
  
• “Disco Duck,” by Rick Dees and His Cast of Idiots—Other than the fact that a lot of people hate it, I don’t know anything about this song. Which is fine with me.
  
• “Playground in My Mind,” by Clint Holmes—This is the one that features an irritating child’s voice singing:
  

My name is Michael

I got a nickel

Which doesn’t actually rhyme with “Michael”

• “Tie a Yellow Ribbon Round the Ole Oak Tree,” sung by Tony Orlando and Dawn—I do not wish to sound insensitive, but if we really want people to come home, perhaps we should not have this song playing.
  
• “Signs,” by Five Man Electrical Band—I think this song will forever hold the record for self-righteous hippie smugness, if only for these lyrics:
  

If God was here, He’d tell you to your face

Man, you’re some kind of sinner!

• “American Woman,” by the Guess Who—On second thought, maybe
  this
  song will forever hold the record for self-righteous hippie smugness.
  
• “I Love You Period,” by Dan Baird—This song features the lyrics:
  

I love you period.

Do you love me question mark?

Please please exclamation point

I want to hold you in parentheses.

These lyrics prompted Jeannine M. San Giovanni to write: “This song makes me sick to my colon. I’d like to kick the author in his asterisk.”

• “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald,” by Gordon Lightfoot—Talk about your party tunes! Just put this song on the stereo and crank up the volume; then sit back and watch as your guests suddenly realize it’s time to leave! Survey participant Jennifer Loehlin, speaking for many, gave this reason for selecting this song as the worst ever: “Because it features, in addition to general sappiness and bad rhymes, the immortal line, ‘As the big freighters go, it was bigger than most.’ ”
  
• “Wind Beneath My Wings,” sung by Bette Mid-ler—Survey voters particularly objected to the line, “It must have been cold there in my shadow.” Debbie Shanahan noted that the title of the song “has always reminded me of the clever farting sound you could make with your palm beneath your armpit.”
  
• “Norman,” the huge 1961 hit by Sue Thompson, with the chorus that goes “Norman, oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo! Norman, Norman my LOVE!” To tell the truth, only a few people voted for this song, but I’m including it here because I happen to have a deep-seated loathing for it, which is why I can so vividly remember its elegant rhyme scheme:
  

Joey asked me for a DATE

He wanted to TAKE

Me out to SKATE

But I told Joey he would have to MAKE

Arrangements with Norman

Lest you think that all of the big winners in the Bad Song Survey were lightweight, simpering, and/or pretentious pop songs, please note that there was also a heavy vote for the heavy-metal Iron Butterfly classic, “In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida.” A lot of people wonder what the strange-sounding title of this song means. It means “This Song Is WAY Too Long.”

I think a number of rock classics fall into this category. For example—and I know I’m going to get into serious trouble with the Led Zeppelin people for this, but I need to get it off my chest—I sincerely believe that “Stairway to Heaven” would be a much better song if they cut maybe 45 minutes out of it.
⁹
I also feel this way about “Layla” by Eric Clapton (both versions), “Free Bird” by Lynyrd Skynyrd, “American Pie” by Don McLean, “Taxi” by Harry Chapin, “A Whiter Shade of Pale” by Procol Harum, “Another Brick in the Wall” by Pink Floyd, and of course “Hey Jude” by the Beatles, some of whom are still singing the na-na-na part.

I know these are great rock classics; I’m just saying that after a while they get to be great
boring
rock classics whose primary musical value seems to be that they give radio DJs time to go to the bathroom.

I am not alone in my feelings about these songs. A number of professional musicians wrote to complain about what a drag it is when their bands get requests to play the longer rock classics, as well as certain other over-requested songs. Tim Rooney, a professional musician for more than twenty-five years, proposed this list of the ten request songs that Top Forty bands hate most:

1. “Stairway to Heaven”
   
2. “Proud Mary (Rollin’ on the River)”
   
3. “Louie Louie”
   
4. “Stairway to Heaven”
   
5. “Proud Mary”
   
6. “Free Bird”
   
7. “Stairway to Heaven”
   
8. “Feelings”
   
9. “Stairway to Heaven”
   
10. “Stairway to Heaven”
    

Rooney, who plays in a Portland, Oregon, swing-and-rock band called the Swingline Cubs,
¹⁰
also proposed a list of the requests most hated by bands performing at wedding receptions:

1. “New York, New York”
   
2. “Cab Driver”
   
3. “New York, New York”
   
4. “Mack the Knife”
   
5. “Joy to the World (Jeremiah Was a Bullfrog)”
   
6. “Girl from Ipanema”
   
7. “In the Mood, a.k.a. Something Us Old Guys with No Sense of Rhythm Can Dance To”
   
8. “New York, New York”
   
9. “Bad, Bad Leroy Brown”
   
10. “New York, New York, and I’m the Bride’s Father and I Have Your Check Right Here in My Hand So You Better Play It, Dammit”
    

I think these are pretty good lists, except for “Louie Louie,” which—despite the fact that it got some votes in the Bad Song Survey—is one of the greatest songs in the history of the world. Part of its greatness, of course, is due to the fact that for years everyone was convinced that, in the Kingsmen version, the lead singer was singing dirty words, when in fact we now know that he was not. He was singing “In-a-gadda-da-vida.”

¹
Rim shot.

²
There might be something about the word
sugar
because there was also a strong Bad Song Survey vote for “Sugar Shack.”

³
Jack was once married to Julie London. This cannot be a coincidence.

⁴
For more on this, see the section entitled “Weenie Songs.”

⁵
The high-school students also really hated Right Said Fred’s “I’m Too Sexy,” the one where he informs you that he is too sexy for his shirt, his car, his oral hygiene appliance, etc.

⁶
Another Captain and Tennille hit, “Love Will Keep Us Together,” was written by—You guessed it!—Neil Sedaka.