The Five Worst Songs of 2007

In a uniquely bad year for music, it is once again time for a chronically jaded man like myself to reflect on the low points, those moments in time when mankind fails to disprove my theory that evolution will never fully eliminate retardation from the common people, or from the celebrities they idolize. Here now are the 5 worst songs of the year. So far.

5. "I Want to Be Your Girlfriend" by Avril Lavigne. Do you know how to tell if a song is Canadian? If you can understand every word in the lyrics. Also, if you want to vomit from the lack of original thought. (See also the Barenaked Ladies.)

4. "Umbrella" by Rihanna. Coletrain, Miss Daisy, and I withstood this song while drinking in a bar in St. Louis. Miss Daisy leaned over and told me he was almost ashamed to admit he liked the Mandy Moore version of this song better. Honestly, there's no reason to be ashamed. Mandy Moore is a hot human being; Rihanna is a FemBot. Before each show, her (its?) designers must reprogram her with robotic dance moves and monotone synthesized vocal pitches. They do this for the thrill of lulling insecure middle-aged women into dancing and grinding. So, these programmers are not much different from Coletrain, I suppose.

3. "Hey There Delilah" by the Plain White T's. While eating dinner at a restaurant with my family last month, this song came on the radio, and I remarked, "This is the worst song of 2007." A brilliant musician, by the name of Sagat, showed his deep prescience of future events when he penned the following lines over a decade ago. Nothing I could say could better explain the state of music today:

"Question: Why is it that every time I turn on the radio, I hear the same five songs, fifteen times a day, for three months? C'mon man, funk dat!"

Yes, Sagat, funk dat. Funk dat, indeed.

2. "Big Girls Don't Cry" by Fergie. Shortly after "Hey There Delilah" played at the aforementioned restaurant, this song came on, and I remarked, "No, this is the worst song of 2007." My thoughts on this song are most eloquently expressed in an earlier post.

1. "I Want to Be Your Girlfriend" by Avril Lavigne. Shortly after "Big Girls Don't Cry" played at the same exact restaurant on the same exact night, this song came on, and I was forced to admit that I hadn't adequately thought out what the worst songs of 2007 are. It was then that I decided to write this post.

When I hear Avril Lavigne sing, my blood cells self-hemolyze in their own version of ritual suicide. My eyes turn jaundiced. My nostrils explode with pus. My ears leak antifreeze. My mouth spits up dark green bilious vomit. My vocal cords convulse at the horror that others of their kind are being publicly tortured. My internal organs shrivel with the hope that my heart will forget to perfuse them. My anus leaks milkly mucus like the time I ate too much Olestra. My penis effuses with a funeral march of immotile sperm, as if the spermatids themselves had penises that are now castrated.

Avril, you do not want to be my girlfriend. I will fill your mouth with cement and sew it shut.

American Idol: the Winners, the Losers, and the Boobs

I can't let Coletrain show me up on AI updates. I fortunately have a single weekend before my gynecology rotation to get a load off my chest. See, I managed to write that whole sentence without a boob joke! First, the top three:

1. Melinda. Unless the audience becomes bored by her complete dominance every week, she's the next champion. I actually think it's unfair for a backup singer to compete, because backup singers are usually more technically proficient than leads. While leads like Madonna or Britney can make up for mediocre voices with stage presence, ample breasts, or off-stage slutting, wallflower backups actually have to sing well in order to get on stage. Except for Ashley Simpson, of course, who sings her own backups, which still suck.

2. Blake. Being the only male with talent, his mix of modern styles, Snow-inspired beatboxing (I hope that reference wasn't too obscure), spiky hair, and metrosexual dress will bring in a hefty constituency of tween girls and middle-aged gays. This is my chance to mention that teenage girls are the one greatest reason for why music sucks today. And all you offended chicks old enough to remember NKOTB, you know why. The other reason why music sucks? Lyrics like "I'm hot 'cause I'm fly, you ain't 'cause you not." Or should that be "'kause," yo?

3. Gina. AKA pseudo-goth chick. I mentioned her as a dark horse in my last post, but I think she'll take 3rd place after the God-singer vote condenses around Melinda. She has a great voice, and may help fill this season's black hole of well-proportioned chests (no, not literally, I said no boob jokes!). After her vote-off, she will immediately take her rightful place in an Evanescence wannabe band. Way to go, pseudo-goth chick! Naperville rox!

And now, for the losers:

Antonella. Yeah, this one's a little old, but I think people missed the boat on analysis here. Poor girl says on her profile that her most embarrassing moment was "Saying the wrong things before I think." Sure. Well, there was a lot of flack that she was not booted off immediately after her embarrassing moments were ejaculated online, much as the fate that befell Frenchie from a previous season. This, said the experts, was racism. Hmm...maybe it's because one was morbidly obese? Actually, the reason is pretty obvious: Frenchie could have won and dealt Simon Cowell his own embarrassing moment. Antonella, well, you saw what happened to her. Case closed.

Sanjaya. Like a pit stain refractory to multiple bleachings, here's the most talentless kid in all of AI stage history. So everyone's blaming the website votefortheworst.com for keeping this vaginoma in the competition. They're forgetting both a long-standing pity vote and the unknown constituency supporting his family's jewels (Damn, a boob joke!). He will eventually lose as legitimate singers' voters coalesce, but in the meantime it would be helpful to look at this phenomenon. AI itself is partly to blame, because the show has always been a little too Disney owing to the fact that singers can only sing covers karaoke-style; if they forced singers to write their own songs and impress their audience with originals, the dregs would sink away pretty fast. As for the VFTWers, who purport to just be having a little fun, these people sound a lot like that kid you knew in junior high who liked to play soccer with stray cats as balls. It's amusing the first time, but then you just feel ashamed for not interfering. Like ordering a tranny stripper for your best friend's bachelor party. No boob jokes necessary.

Sorry for the long post. Well, it's back to diseased vaginas for me. Remember, kids: bacterial, not viral. See you all in six weeks.

Jonesing for Football

Captain Caveman over at Kissing Suzy Kolber reminded me how much I miss football right about now. Above is a clip of Tyler Brayton expressing his frustration with the performance of the Raiders last season.

Hey, sometimes you just gotta let off some steam.

If nutshots aren't enough - just do the Devil Walk. Dooo iiit!!!

Coolio Is Better Than You

Never thought you would wish for me...

Most new hip hop fucking sucks. I don't even know what gets radio play down here, because as soon as I turn the station to hip hop - I get a cacophony of crap that makes crazy Mexican love songs on ciento cinco punto siete sound like angels. What happened to verses and a chorus, or I don't know, an attempt to make music? Let's create a song, not just "lay a mauhfukin track."

Remember "Gangster's Paradise?" This song was a ballad about a troubled young man who was tough as hell but still realized his mortality. Remember this?

As I walk through the valley of the shadow of death
I take a look at my life and realize there's nothing left.

This is a great use of one of the most beautiful phrases in the Bible, turned from hope to dispair. Check out this one.

But I ain't never crossed a man that didn't deserve it.
Me be treated like a punk, you know that's unheard of,
You better watch how you talkin, and where you walkin
Or you and your homies might be lined in chalk.

Have you ever been threatened so eloquently? If Shakespeare was a ganster rapper - I wonder if he could improve on this.

Even Coolio's party song "1,2,3,4" from the same album was better than the crap playing now. It sucks because most of the good hip hop came out in the late 80s and was about done in the late 90s. Back when I was in college - when Next or Monifah or Ginuwine came over the speakers - everybody, and I mean everybody was bumping and grinding. Nowadays, I go to some of the big clubs in here - and no one who isn't half in the bag is on the dance floor. Why? The music sucks.