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that song sucks. like, really sucks.
by Michele Christopher
This afternoon is a movie break afternoon. This theme will continue when we do another post tonight, but we both had a feeling that kicking out these titles to you so fast is really not giving ourselves enough time to think about what we really like. So the rest of the day, we are going to sit around and think about the picks we have for tonight. Because every time you respond with a movie, we slap our heads and say "oh yeah." So we are going to take the rest of the afternoon off and think about it and come back tonight. Movie week has two days left and we still need input for what you guys want to see as the final two themes.
But, since that is neither here nor there and you really can't do anything about it now, let's move on to a new topic for this afternoon.
Bad Memory Songs
You guys know these. I have a lot. Some will only be told to a close friend, but there still are ones that can be told for some strange reason. You have them. You still remember from something. Somewhere. Something that when you hear on the radio, you cringe and remember where you were at and think back to those times and just shiver. You might hate the band or you might love them, but that doesn't matter. When you hear it, you just put your head down and wonder why you did that.
These are ours.
What are yours?
turtle is up first.
Stxy - That Stupid Fucking Domo Arigato Song
I'm not even going to bother find the real name of the song and knowing Michele she will find the MP3 and put it up for you to listen to so you can all go thru the hell weekend I did when I was a kid. I have no idea what it was about or really what the fuck any of it meant. Some great concept album. Oh, like I give a fuck. It was one of those bands like Journey that you just kinda ask yourself why are you listening to this crap. I know I don't bag on bands cause I know that whatever they were doing, they really believed in it. At the time. Maybe. Blurry line there, but since I don't know, I can't talk. I'm just here to tell you why I hate this one song.
Vanguard had just come out on the Atari 2600. This was a cool game. I think. I don't really remember. But everyone wanted it and it was sold out everywhere. That didn't really matter to us cause we couldn't afford it anyways.See, the thing with 2600s was that the games were cool but they were short. So take a kid and let him play any game, except Pitfall, and they will finish it in two days. What to do? Get a new game. No money. Well, that's just all fucked up. Might have to go outside and like play or something. Hell if I know. I don't do good in the sun. So you can see when this new game came out, we needed it. This ball game bouncy outside shit gets old real fast if I can't kill you and get points. So what to do?
Slam a beer and sit in the garage. Yeah, I drank as a kid. Hey, I am German. Give me a break. Turn the radio on and spin away another day. The DJ was saying something. Every hour he would play a song. All the DJs would. All weekend. If you called in and was number whateverthefuck, you could win a game! The game? Vanguard!! The song? Domo Mr. something or whatever.
We had a plan. Someone stay by the radio for the entire weekend. We would take shifts. Like some bad island movie watching for some monster or keeping the campfire lit, we had to do this. The monster might come or the campfire might go out. Then what would have? A bunch of bored kids playing Pitfall wondering if this fucking game ever ends all summer. Or playing with some bouncy thing that went in some kinda hoop.
Set up camp. We will win this.
My shift was in the day. Six hours of listening to this crappy 70's music waiting for it. Six chances. Six games. Six songs. It would happen. I could feel it. Teasers on when he was going to play it. The start and then the pull off. Saying he was just kidding and then playing Foghat or something like that. Pure adrenaline running out of my veins as the hour drew to a close. The start of the song! Call! Call! Stumbling with my fingers as I typed in the numbers! The phone call!
The busy signal.....
The sad recognition that I had lost.
Pitfall has no ending.
And I hate that song. - T
This is one of those songs I loathed upon first listen. But I tolerated it. For years. On the radio, in dance clubs and on jukeboxes and on my parents’ stereo. I tolerated it. But I reached a saturation point. Something happened and I snapped. And this song became the song I hate more than any other song that has ever been written, performed or copyrighted since time began. I'm serious. You play this song in my presence, I will get stabby. Real quick.
Paradise By The Dashboard Light
I know. It’s a classic. Everyone loves it. Great bar song! Great party song! My ass.
I reached my breaking point with this asinine tune about ten years ago at my sister’s wedding. Now it’s my kryptonite. Just the mere mention of it and I break out in hives. Right now, my arms are starting to itch. I’m gonna need a bottle of calamine just write this out.
I’m sure you’ve all been to weddings or the like where people acted this song out. It can’t just be a Long Island thing. Please tell me that this happens in other places. Don’t leave me all alone here in loserville.
Ok, my sister’s wedding. I’ll tell you what happened. Let me just get some more calamine.
As soon as the DJ hit this song - I’m talking as soon as the firs note hit - , the dance floor was packed. Everyone who sat on their fat, drunk asses all night during the great dance songs of the night were suddenly lined up on the floor. Oh, like you don't want to dance every time you hear Funkytown. Guys on the left. Chicks on the right. Ready to....what? Rumble? Line dance? What the fuck were they doing? Following the song? Acting it out? When did Paradise become the new Hokey Pokey? Was I that sheltered that I missed this memo?
Excuse me while I gulp this Benadryl down. The hives. They multiply.
At this point in the reception, I’d has about five thousand shots of tequila. Ok, maybe twenty. Twelve. Whatever. Point is, tequila will usually have me up on a table swinging my bra around dancing to some Donna Summer song. But not even a good Cuervo buzz could get me out there for this song. They tried. I told them to back the hell off. I’ll sit this one out. Call me when the DJ puts on Bad Girls.
I just stood back and watched. Grown men and women doing this dance thing. We’re talking town councilmen and judges and the president of the local Kiwanis here. They all took turns singing the boy/girl parts. Standing across from each other like some scene out of West Side Story and doing this back and forth singing thing. And they acted the parts out. Pretending to be lusty teenagers in a steamy car. During the Phil Rizzuto play by play part, one couple stood in the center of the two lines. Pantomimed the whole thing. I kid you not. Acted the whole fucking thing out. I was embarrassed. Why weren’t they? My jaw dropped as my cousin informed me that this went on at every wedding, in every bar, every night of the week and I needed to get out more. No. No. I need to never leave the sanctity of my house again. I’ve been emotionally scarred by witnessing this.
Oh it got worse. The play by play part is over. Some lady does a sliding split into the middle of the dance floor, holding up her hand and singing "STOP RIGHT THERE!" What the fuck. That’s no lady. That’s my daughter’s religious ed teacher. And that guy singing “let me sleep on it” in her face? Jesus, that’s my uncle. Then they all chimed in. All of them. Doing this back and forth thing, guys and girls, and this went on until the very end, where they all did some bizarre dance as they whispered “glowing like a metal on the edge of a knife.” I shook my head to clear it. I thought maybe the tequila had gotten to me. I was hallucinating. Dreaming. had been transported to the ninth level of hell and Satan himself was going to rise out of the dance floor. But no. It was real. It was real and it was horrible and it formed some Pavlovian response in my brain so that I start itching and screaming and begging for mercy every time I hear this song.
That happened ten years ago. And I remember every little thing.......nah, not going there.
Pass the calamine. -M
So see, we aren't the nicest people on the planet when it comes to songs. Some people say we only review what we like. Well we do try to do that and forget what we don't because really, life is too short to worry about things we don't dig. Sure, sometimes we are forced to do things we don't want to do and we do because we agreed to, but really, this site is for fun.
So, if you feel up to it, tell us what songs you hate. With a deep dark passion.