Throw Monahan from the Train

Flipping channels on the way to work today, I caught the chorus of a new pop tune called “Her Eyes.” Man, was it catchy:

Her eyes, that's where hope lies.
That's where blue skies
Meet the sunrise.
Her eyes, that's where I go
When I go home.

As the song launched into what was likely its second verse, I was enjoying myself. But then some things regarding the tune seemed…off. For one, the lyrics were starting to veer towards “completely non-sensical.” And there was that nasally crooning voice. And then it hit me.

OH HELL NO.

The artist at the helm of this single is Pat Monahan. Don’t know him? That’s okay – he’s actually the frontman of a well-known rock band, and has decided to put out a solo album. Personally, I see how it benefits him – the nightly take on tour had to be divided by, well, one. But he’s still playing with a band, albeit a less famous one you don’t care about. And you spend most of the show secretly hoping he breaks out a signature track from the famous band’s discography. Take the case of Rob Thomas. I’d go to a Matchbox Twenty concert. I would not go to a Rob Thomas concert – even though the singles produced are nearly identical in quality. It’s just one of those things. As for Pat Monahan’s band?

Train.

Last summer, we cemented Train’s Drops of Jupiter as the Song with the 2nd Worst Lyrics Ever, trailing only the idiots savant (minus the savant part) known as LFO. And since a lead singer doesn’t have to, you know, practice an actual instrument, he’s often saddled with the songwriting responsibilities for the band. This is why I specifically blame Pat Monahan for Drops of Jupiter. And now that I’ve gotten to work, I’ve researched the entire lyrical content of “Her Eyes,” and wouldn’t you know it –

Somebody wrote this song with their Futility Pen.

Billboard Magazine calls this song “a boisterous ode to Monahan’s quirky woman.” Look, I’m all for writing a song about the one you love. But if we are to believe that every lyric Monahan uses is true, well then, we do not have a quirky woman on our hands.We have a mentally insane person.

Let’s review these words, Lyrical Cynic-style. And if it helps, open this page in another window to hear the song.

She’s not afraid, she just likes to use a night light // When she gets paid, true religion gets it all, if they fit right. Translation: Look, everyone has had a bad dream, every now and then, and it can even be kind of a cute quirk. Way to go, Pat. You’ve found a winner. You know, if she DIDN’T DONATE HER ENTIRE PAYCHECK TO THE CHURCH WITH WHICH SHE IDENTIFIES. 100%? Really?

She’s a little bit manic, completely organic // doesn’t panic for the most part. Translation: She’s slightly crazy, yet a carbon-based lifeform. And for the most part, she doesn’t freak out. On the other hand, she’s completely capable of freaking out, and the mania doesn’t help her cause, but hey – at least she’s not made of plastic. Nice rhyme time, Patrick.

She’s old enough to know, and young enough not to say no to any chance that she gets for home plate tickets to see the Mets. Translation: Mr. Monahan has really taken the rhyme scheme complexities up a notch here, but at the expense of what? We have no idea what she’s old enough to know, and apparently she falls under that magical age barrier that once you pass you stupidly turn down Mets tickets. Yes, New York Mets tickets. Hell, maybe in concert Pat thinks on his feet and throws in Jets tickets. That would really blow their minds.

Like everybody, she’s in over her head // Dreads Feds, Grateful Dead, and doesn't take meds. Translation: Someone hasn’t been paying their taxes, hates hippie rock, and is no pill popper. Good for her – of course, Pat could have just as arbitrarily chosen for her to hate the Reds, or maybe likes to eat bread.

She's a Gemini Capricorn // Thinks all men are addicted to porn. Translation: Geminis are born between May 21 and June 21. Capricorns are born between December 22 and January 19. Pat Monahan likes how these words sounds together, despite the fact that world will implode before a person can be both. That’s ok – he’s probably part of the 50% addicted to pornography. Yep, that explains it.

I don't agree with her half the time // But, damn I'm glad she's mine. Translation. She thinks this song sucks. He disagrees.

And while this songs continues to spiral downwards in the second verse, this chorus is so damn catchy. Feel free to mock Round 2 in the comments.

Go Back to Canuckistan

Clara currently has two CD’s in her collection. The first is a Baby Beethoven/Mozart/ABBA disc that plays a series of xylophone-centric lullabies. In true Pavlovian fashion, we can play this to help her fall asleep for a nap or for the night and it will likely work. Of course, that means we need to be very careful when this comes up in the CD changer’s rotation. What happens if Katie and I start to develop the same tendency when the dulcet tones of Rock-a-Bye Baby come over the speakers? What if we then take this CD on a car ride to help Clara slumber on the interstate? Hellooooo, median!

The second CD is a collection of silly sing-along songs from everyone’s favorite kiddie troubadour, Raffi. Growing I up, my sister and I LOVED Raffi. When I first heard this CD in my apartment a month back, I realized I inexplicably knew all of the words, despite it being decades since the last time old Raffi got a spin. Well, I did a little research on Raffi, and I hate to break it to all of you – I have some terrible news about the guy who brought you Baby Beluga. Prepare yourselves.

He’s Canadian.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

Sad but true, Raffi is a Canuck. By choice. Yep, he was born in Egypt, and then voluntarily chose to call the Great White North his home. And we’re cool with him teaching our children? Hell, no.

After pondering seven different scenarios that all end with Raffi trapped inside an igloo forever, I decided to calm down and just listen to the lyrics of some of work. After all, Clara seems to be enjoying herself, so I can surely postpone my homicidal tendencies to a time more suitable. You know, like work. But by listening to the lyrics of children’s songs, I was reminded once again that the LYRICS MAKE NO SENSE. To prove my point, I have transcribed one of Raffi’s favorite nursery rhymes and added several additional versions for accuracy, content and modernization. Enjoy.

Baa, baa, black sheep,
Have you any wool?
Yes sir, yes sir,
Three bags full.
One for the master,
And one for the dame,
And one for the little boy
Who lives down the lane.
Baa, baa, black sheep,
Have you any wool?
Yes sir, yes sir,
Three bags full.

Baa, baa, black sheep
You give me the creeps
Because you’re a
Talking Sheep.
Sure, in the movies
This would not be big
I’m sure that they C-G-I’ed
The words into that pig.
Baa, baa, black sheep
You give me the creeps
Because you’re a
Talking Sheep.

Hold up, Jerkpants,
Let’s roll back the reel
You asked ME to
Cut a deal.
How should I answer
Your ssupply request?
I go, and open my mouth
And now you protest!
Hold up, Jerkpants,
Let’s roll back the reel
You asked ME to
Cut a deal.

Sorry, Sheepskin
I mean you no harm.
You come from a
Unique Farm.
One where the horses
Banter through the night
And one where the ducks discuss
The time to make flight.
Sorry, Sheepskin
I mean you no harm.
You come from a
Unique Farm.

That’s okay, friend
Now can I move on?
Master and Lady
Need their wool by dawn
I must move quickly
Down to their address
We sheep carry our own wool,
Don’t use UPS
That’s okay, friend
Now can I move on?
Master and Lady
Need their wool by dawn

Not a problem,
Please go on your way.
Let me warn you
If I may
About that last kid
For whom you have wool.
He’ll just go into the town
And trade for a mule.
Not a problem,
Please go on your way.
Let me help you
If I may.

Always wondered
Boys don’t need textiles
Black market’s
Not Black Sheep’s style
I’ll tell you what, man
This bag is free
I cannot exchange my wares
For some lame donkey
Always wondered
Boys don’t need textiles
Black market’s
Not Black Sheep’s style

Round and Round

Do you have a favorite song? Of course you do. In this age of digital music, iPods, and satellite radio, you can hear your favorite tune pretty much any time you want with a few turns of the dial. No longer do you have to shuffle through CDs or call FM radio stations in order to catch that single you desire, and we’re way past the age of rewinding cassettes for a second play. For years, I’ve been meaning to rank every mp3 I own in order to determine what my favorite song is. However, the massive excel spreadsheet required or the second coming of Mookie Madness have yet to formulate, so I’m left wondering what should be on the top of my podium.

For babies, this process is way easier.

In order for a baby to pick a number one song, they have to do a similar thing. They must evaluate each and every song they have ever heard, and then decide which song makes them the happiest. The nice thing for them? They haven’t heard that many songs. Their personal discography is limited to songs 1) heard on the radio once they’ve decided sitting in the car seat isn’t a cry-worthy activity and 2) songs that Mom and Dad have sung to them in order to distract them into calming down, and quite possibly triggering a smile.

Radio music doesn’t stand a chance.

This leaves in the running all ditties in which either Mother or Father are the recording artist. And despite strong showings from such timeless classics as “Lollipop,” “Rock-A-Bye Baby,” “Hush Little Baby,”, and Nordberg’s “Spider-Pig,” we have a winner.

The Wheels on the Bus.

What’s not to like about the Wheels on the Bus? The title vehicular components goes round and round – much as hit records used to fly off the stacks back in the days of vinyl. It tells a story – this bus is not content with a power ballad about how it sits all day in a garage; no, it’s an epic story where the title character embarks on an epic meandering journey.

All through the town.

Let’s review the lyrics to this rock classic with greater detail, shall we?

• The motion of the wheels on the bus turn a simple nursery tune into a fully-choreographed musical from the very first verse. “Wheels” are not usually a part of a baby’s first vocabulary chapter – that’s reserved for Mama, Dada, hello, and the like. Therefore the “Wax On, Wax Off” motion of the wheels gets the point across without having to skip ahead in the Big Book of Words Baby Will Memorize by Age 3.”
• After the wheels on the bus, there’s no coda listed in the sheet music, which means it’s the singer’s responsibility to come up with the next verse all on their own. A common choice for the 2 hole are the wipers on the bus. (For the record, they go swish, swish, swish.) This begs the question – should there be singing on any public transportation when it’s pouring outside? Wouldn’t this distract the driver?
• The song also goes on to tell us that the “People on the Bus go UP and DOWN.” Fair enough. This song was written a long time ago, long before the Department of Transportation got their way with new-fangled safety regulations. If they had their choice, the DoT would insist on the Seat Belts on the Bus go Click, click, click. Keep dreaming, bureaucrats.
• Careful, driver. Make sure Rosa Parks isn’t on the bus before you utter your demanding declaration. You could be in for a legal world of hurt.
• There’s also a delightful little dialogue in the middle verses where babies on the bus cry (wah, wah, waah) and their mothers promptly quiet them (shush, shush, sshhh). This is where the daddies on the bus pretend to be asleep.
• If your baby really loves this song (like Clara), you’ll be hard pressed to come up with additional, previously unwritten verses. For instance, does anyone know what sounds a double overhead camshaft makes?

We Be Dustin' Off Lyrics

Awhile back, the American Film Institute hit us with the 100 best original songs in American film. The greats were all there: Over the Rainbow, White Christmas, Stayin’ Alive, Mrs. Robinson – movies that become as well known for their music as they were their acting. In modern times, popular musicians will write and perform music not so much to make acclaimed lists such as these, but instead to have a crossover Top 40 hit that will be remembered as fondly as the film for which it was written. Don’t believe me?

Check out the collective late 90’s works of one Will Smith for further proof.

On many an occasion, the hip-hop community has risen to the challenge. Eminem provided new material for his flick, 8 Mile. The Ninja Turtle movies left us with several promising singles, none better than TURTLE Power by Partners in Kryme. However, this genre of music would not have been possible without RUN-DMC, and as you may have forgotten, they too had gotten in on the movie scoring game.

Kinda wish they hadn’t.

Early rap was nothing like it is now. It was a genre of style, of being completely different. It was the equivalent of dropping a show like The Office in the middle of 80’s TV, where family-centric situational comedy ruled the day. Of course, those who invent the game get to make the rules. RUN-DMC got to make the rules.But just because one gets to make the rules doesn’t mean they can’t be held accountable for their lyrics. With such a loose flow with simple rhyme schemes, this should have been an easy thing for them to accomplish. And in so many songs, they succeeded. In those songs, they were able to rap about anything they wanted – when no one’s rapped about anything before, you get to pen the first chapter in anyway you like. However, when given a specific assignment – say a movie tie-in rap – it looks like they struggled. A lot.

In our first edition of Lyrical Cynic in two and a half months, (last one here) we’re going after another song we actually like. A song we like inexplicably. A song crafted not for a movie soundtrack, but for a sequel. A song that decides a good place for the bridge is only 1:16 into the tune. Our first rap entry to LC, it has lyrics so laughable that it’s probably long forgotten in your memory. Lucky for you, we’re a steel trap.

Ghostbusters Rap, by RUN-DMC

It’s a catchy re-mix of Ray Parker Jr.’s ’84 hit, and it does well to highlight the call-and-answer style that these guys made so popular. But it, um, how do I – MAKES NO SENSE WHATSOEVER. A highlighted top eight lyrical train wrecks accompany below:

1. “Your heart fills with fright / not filled with the things / that go bump in the night!" - Ok, so we understand that the spooky confines of watching tv by yourself in the dark can be scary, but whatever it is that caused the fright, it was something OTHER than the things that go bump in the night. I give you the equivalent of a Navy Seal that's afraid of a mouse.

2. "All alone on the phone / so whassup with that noise / ... / so you get up and call" - Even in music about movies, it appears continuity errors can occur. This is a common editing mistake. A guy's on the phone and then two lines in the lap later, he gets on the phone again. Brilliant.

3. "Kids at school and I'm no fool and I got no time to waste / So you get up and call, don't trip and fall / Go outside and leave the place / Now it's no dream because you seein' a shadow in the night" - The kids attend night school? What, they're holding down jobs during the day?

4. "They be dustin' off ghosts / like true ghost dusters" - Worst rhyme ever. But then again, maybe DMC's kids' jobs are in this previously unheard of industry. (Note: only true ghost dusters need apply. Accept no substitutes.)

NOTE: The rest comes from the final verse, or how I like to call it, the NYNEX Phone-It-In Special.

5. "I remember the time, I visited the grave / My life on the line, only my life to save" - I'm all for paying respects to the dearly departed, but if my life needs saving as a result, next time I'll just say a little prayer at church. STOP GOING THERE.

6. "All by myself, with no one around / Did not understand a hand comin' out the ground" - While I personally enjoy the "comin' out the" section in the name of syllabic sacrifice, I've got to give him credit for overstatement of the year. Can't say a hand breaking through the earth is a largely understandable occurence. That brings us to the next line...

7. "I knew it wasn't mine / it was somebody else." - I take that back. This is the overstatement of the year.

8. "We are your friendly neighborhood ghostbusters," / that's what they said to me" / We are the busters of any, G-H-O-S-T." - Damn it, the Ghostbusters listen to Fergie. And in effort to save some time, let's be glad they didn't name their crew Supernatural Appartition Busters.

Up a Creek with No O.A.R.

This past NFL season, the Chicago Bears did an outstanding job of illustrating the “He’s With Me” Theory. The “He’s With Me” Theory occurs when you have to halves of a tandem that are very different in quality, but because you need both in order to complete the whole, you have to take the weaker in order to let the stronger in. The Bears had an awesome defense this past year – a defense that led them into the NFC playoffs without blinking. Oh, but their offense – simply atrocious. They have a quarterback who was afraid to throw to his own receivers and a running game that vastly underperformed. Regardless, the offense gets to go to the playoffs because of the defense. In essence, Brian Urlacher looked at Rex Grossman, sighed, and uttered to the velvet rope-minder, “He’s with Me.”

This holds true for pop music.

On two occasions now, (here and here) we’ve called out suspect songwriting for its lyrical flaws and nonsensical rhyming. And even though we’re somewhat critical of the best penning efforts of LFO and Train, these people are WAY richer than me and WAY more popular than me. They aren’t literary geniuses. (Hemingway would raise a glass to them, however, not because of their great prowess. More likely because Hemingway was a drunk. Scotchy scotch scotch.) No, these charlatans of the manuscript have their songs on the radio because of the music, not the lyics. Catchy hooks and great riffs have looked at pop music DJs and uttered, “Oh, that’s just Lyrics. He’s with me.”

This is why I hadn’t caught this one in the past.

Even I am guilty of enjoying a song with horrible lyrical content. The song I am about to expose is a frequent tune to any treadmill, road trip, or karaoke collection. It’s a sing-along classic, albeit from a relatively unknown band. And as I listened on the way to work today, it finally hit me: these lyrics are horrible. The offending ditty?

O.A.R’s “Crazy Game of Poker.”

In its incessantly catchy acoustic power-chord sequencing and upbeat drumming structure, I totally missed the boat. Let’s board, shall we? In the past, we’ve pointed out the top ten worst lyrics of the previous offending songs. This time around, we’re going to try and follow the songwriter’s stream of conscience, and promptly run head-first into a wall.

Ohh my, 20 throw down in my fist of rage
and the man to my left has folded down,
well johnny doubled up with a royal flush -
I had three jacks and a pair of nines
my mind is turning - just two shots more,
there's not much left to play
well then dude walks in black hat on top
What a mop, I'm lucky
It wasn't a county cop cause I'm just runnin out of time

Analysis: For the most part, we start off okay. (Slippery slopes always need to start higher than they finish.) It appears that our young gent is attempting to a game of poker, that may in fact be, crazy. He’s dropping cash and playing poorly, except for a full house that he got at the same time as Johnny’s royal flush. However, what’s the likelihood of that? Johnny’s flush has to have A-K-Q-J-10 of one suit, and yet, our writer has the other three jacks in his hand. What are the odds that the only other jack in the deck is in the hand of the man who has its flushed compliments? This guy’s luck blows.

Who's up for game two? What to do?
My wallet's gettin thin and I just lost my watch last night
Well I gotta problem just one answer
gotta throw it all down and kiss it goodbye

Analysis: Game two sounds like a bad idea. No upside for our writer. He’s going to lose, and he’s not even going to have any idea as to what time it was when he went broke. What a shame.

That was a crazy game of poker (That was a crazy game of poker)
I lost it all (I lost it all)
but someday I'll be back again and I,
never to fold. (never to fold)

Analysis: Damn catchy chorus. No complaints. (For now.)

Who's up for game three?
I can barely see the bourbon drowning next to me
and I just lost it all
well there's a man sittin next to me - Red, with smiling eyes
It's funny I don't have no money tonight – yeaaaaahhhh

Analysis: This is the first introduction of our writer’s fascination with describing who sits within close proximity by giving us a meaningless fact about them that gives us no idea as to that person’s poker skills or whether or not they took his watch. After another chorus and a bizarre scatting section, we get to the part where the drowning borboun got the best of our writer’s pen:

And I walked into the bar yesterday
Cause I had something to do, something to say
And Johnny walked in right behind me and I didn't turn around
Til I heard the sound of his feet falling on the ground
I looked over my shoulder and I saw a clown
And I said what'cha doin' in the bar tonight.

Analysis: I like that he had to stretch the second line a full eleven syllables to match up the perfect rhyme of day and say. That’s brilliant. And if he didn’t turn around until he heard the sound of Johnny’s feet, does that mean he turned out, um, immediately? Or is this a bar that’s front door area is carpeted with marshmallows? Hey it could happen. This bar is weird. Clowns drink free.

And I said, what'cha looking at?
He hit me across the face with a bat
I grabbed my .45 and I said let's get out and go
So he opened the door and said do what you're here for
I said I'm wandering round the road four to four
And I said I been walking for about a thousand years.

Analysis: Wow, that got out of hand really quickly. Johnny, you were supposed to be my friend. I don’t hate ya for having the most improbable hand of poker ever. And why do you have a bat in a bar? Or better yet, where’d I get this gun? You would think I would’ve used it at some point earlier in the song. Maybe I would still have a watch.

And my feet are growing tired
My eyes a little wired
Don't know what to do unless I retire
And he just said let's play some crazy poker

Analysis: Dude, I totally forgive you for inexplicably clocking me with that bat you’re holding. And despite the fact that my feet and eyes are feeling completely opposite feelings, I would be game for a few hands. Why not?

Later on in his ramblings, we get to:
And to my left was a man, he had no chin
Didn't really think about starting to sin
The man to my right wasn't feeling kinda nice
He looked kinda mad and I felt bad
Because I took his money last night it's kinda funny
But now I'm just struggling-- I need a honey-bunny.
I don't know what to say anymore
So I'm just gonna go out, anywho...

Analysis: And our dear writer has gone insane. Old Chinless McGee, who “didn’t really think about starting to sin” is just a fancy way of saying “doing nothing,” scared the hell out of our writer. Which is ok, considering the man to his right “wasn’t feelin’ kinda nice” (a synonym for “mad”, apparently.) And this man is the only poker player on the planet worse than our watchless, penniless, writer. Who apparently thinks it’s a sick joke and could use a female companion. Or a rabbit.

God, what was in that bourbon?

Sing a Song of Spending

One thing I’ve noticed during my infancy as a parent is that babies like singing. From their perspective, it’s quite simple. The person with the big arms that insists on holding me is speaking to me in a manner far more melodic than usual. And since it’s been weeks since I’ve had Mom’s inner heartbeat to help me drop a beat, I’m going to shut and up and listen to what they have to say.

That’s pretty much it.

Now singing to your baby can come in one of two forms. The first is the planned recital. The Planned Recital method means you have selected the repertoire you are about to perform, measuring it carefully for pitch, range, tempo, and lyrical content, and you expect your selection to have a certain desired effect on your audience: pacification. My choice rendition: The River, by Garth Brooks.

However, the second form is far more unpredictable, and therefore, way more fun. This is when you begin a sentence in talkspeak and for an inexplicable reason, it morphs into singing. For no reason, you’ve added a melody to completely words that just a second ago sounded rather declarative. The pitch goes up and down, but the lyrical content remains remarkably boring. But who cares?

She’s buying it.

Yes, some song that has the musical quality of impromptu tune Will Ferrell sings to James Caan in Elf is actually keeping your baby at bay. Who cares if it’s a list of spices you’re reading out of the pantry. It’s WORKING. And just like that, anything you can think of can be nominated for a Grammy.

Now this is a revelation that I’m sure every parent comes up with at some point, which leads me to my point. Do you know the nursery rhyme “Hush Little Baby”? Of course you do. It’s the one where the overly materialistic parents try and buy their way out of a baby hissy fit. My theory is this: that nursery rhyme, which has been passed down for generations, is just some villager peasant parent looking around and naming things he sees. And somehow, this random tune (clearly from the latter of the two forms mentioned above) has been embedded in the Great American Songbook.

Don’t believe me? Let’s review the lyrics.

“Hush, little baby, don't say a word // Papa's gonna buy you a mockingbird”
Ok, I’d start an ad-hoc song with “hush little baby,” too. After all, that’s probably why you’ve opted to sing in the first place. But there seems to be a transitional lyric that got left on the cutting room floor. Because rather than it coming off as “if you’re a good child and do what you told, I’m going to buy you something nice,” it comes off as “no, I don’t care if you think a mockingbird is a completely irresponsible thing to buy a baby, you’re getting one and you’re going to like it.” Wow.

“If that mockin'bird don't sing // Papa's gonna buy you a diamond ring”
This is a simple case of parent explaining to child the definition of “defective goods.” Look, Dad, you bought a lemon of a songbird. Take it back to the store and get a new one. What’s that? You didn’t get the new pet warranty? You must feel foolish. And your kid is still screaming. What’re you going to get her next? Of course, a diamond ring! Nothing says panicked parenting like going from new bird to new bling in 2.3 tears. I’m speechless.

“If that diamond ring turns brass // Papa's gonna buy you a looking glass”
I’m assuming that it’s the gold band on the ring that’s gone brass, as opposed to the highly valuable stone. Because if the latter’s the case, congratulations. You’re kid has the gift of alchemy! Quick, ask her nicely to turn that jar of mayonnaise into a stack of hundred dollar bills.

“If that looking glass gets broke // Papa's gonna buy you a billy goat”
A looking glass is a terrible present. She probably threw it on the floor when you weren’t looking. As for the goat – this is proof that this song was conjured up by a peasant wandering his farm. Hey, doofus. Puppies are way cuter.

“If that billy goat don't pull, // Papa's gonna buy you a cart and mule”
You know how some parents insist that their children become doctors or police officers because that particular occupation has been in their family for generations? Upgrading baby’s first pet from a stubborn goat to a stubborn donkey is pretty much like handing the kid a pitchfork and pointing in the direction of the barn. And since you blew all your cash on the diamond ring, you couldn’t afford the mule that sounds like Eddie Murphy.

“If that cart and mule turn over // Papa's gonna buy you a dog named Rover”
Turn over? What could a baby possibly do to upend another animals and the four-wheeled transport vehicle it is strapped to? Forget alchemy. Your baby is telekinetic. And I don’t mean to lyrical nitpick, but what if Baby Magneto made that cart and mule vanish? Would you have bought a dog that’s Spanish?

“If that dog named Rover won't bark // Papa's gonna buy you a horse and cart.”
Yep. If there’s one thing that a baby needs more than one cart, it’s two carts.

“If that Horse and Cart fall down // Then you'll be the sweetest little baby in town”
And you’ll also be the most spoiled, too. Now go take a nap while I go to the bank and take out a second mortgage on the house.

Lyrical Brilliance in Two Dimensions

Amidst the wreckage of this year’s Grammys, it appears that one of the 481 awards they hand out went to the Black Eyed Peas for Best Pop Performance by a Duo or Group. And to what melodic ode can they attribute their new shiny golden paperweight?

My Humps.

Yes, the song that was listed as having the absolute WORST song lyrics in the HISTORY OF MUSIC by The Boston Phoenix (an excellent read, btw) was number one this year in this category. I’m surprised the guys from The Fray didn’t actually cut the cables to their cable car upon learning the news. (It should be noted that our two previous lyrical tirade recipients, LFO and Train, also made the list. Damn straight.) Good God – let’s just hope that this particular Grammy wasn’t one of those specific songwriters’ award. Because if it is, in the words of Alex Trebek, “We’ve reached a new low.”

It’s not that hard to write good lyrics, people. I’m not talking great ones, just good ones – ones that make more sense than “lovely lady lumps.” Paul Simon, Elvis Costello, Garth Brooks – these people can write good lyrics. But one does not need to be classically gifted like those three to write poignant, catchy verse. Look at TV theme songs! Some of these are inherently clever! Hell, I’ll even take the Rembrandts over Fergie. In order to point out just how ludicrous her music is, I’m going to take this morning’s post to highlight lyrical brilliance in the most unusual of places.

The Disney Afternoon.

Yes, an underappreciated haven for excellent songwriting comes courtesy of those silly cartoons that you watched after school in the early nineties. Yeah, the colors were shiny and there was a disproportionate number of ducks in that cartoon block, but you were sucked in every day. And it wasn’t because the storylines were riveting or that you had a crush on Launchpad McQuack; it was those theme songs. In ascending order of, well, awesomeness, I give you the themes of the Disney Afternoon.

5. RESCUE RANGERS – Ch-Ch-Ch-Chip and Dale, now with a stuttering problem! Ok, definitely the weakest, but today would at least be deserving of a nomination in Best Pop Performance by a Duo of Group (they can have the Pussycat Dolls’ spot). Unmemorable verse, but a chorus that sticks. Also, my sister and I beat this Nintendo game 3 days after we got it on Christmas. Warrants mentioning.

4. DARKWING DUCK – When there’s trouble, you call DW. Not that’s a complex rhyme that I’m proud to present. And for no reason whatsoever, they hired Michael Clarke Duncan to say “Let’s Get Dangerous” in the middle of the choruses. Solid effort.

3. GUMMI BEARS – By far the best part of this cartoon – which I hated by the way. The cartoon itself made such little sense, and all in all, was secretly run by drug runners (Gummiberry juice that makes you fly? Hello?) But I really think that this song could be played as an army marches into battle, and even though there’s a complete lack of driving rhythm but a surprising amount of French Horn. Just follow the first verse:

Dashing and daring, Courageous and caring, Faithful and friendly, With stories to share.
All through the forest, They sing out in chorus, Marching along, As their song fills the air!

(Now picture it with sweet Mister Mister-esque vocals. Rock.)

2. DUCK TALES – Duck puns are too easy to make, and they rarely pay off (see Spud’s Film Critic review of Howard the Duck for proof.) And yet, the writers of the Duck Tales theme pull it off. (It’s a duck blur?) And yes, the most memorable part of it is the chorus’ “Woo-Ooo,” but that’s still better than saying “My Hump” 6 straight times, right? In addition, the chorus is as follows:

Duck Tales, Woo-ooo / Tales of derring-do, bad and good luck tales, Woo-Ooo

Any kids’ TV theme songwriter that’s gutsy enough to use a grown-up term like derring-do in a chorus needs to be commended.

1. TALE SPIN - I’m pretty sure they came up with this cartoon for two reasons – 1) to offset the duck infestation that was taking over the TV and 2) to showcase the theme song. It’s like Tim Rice and Alan Menken, hot off their movie streak (Aladdin, Lion King, Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast) had this great calypso riff in their head. And they pitched it to Disney, but they had no plans to do a Caribbean flick – Pocahontas was next – and Pirates wouldn’t come until a decade later. So in order to appease them, they came up with Tale Spin, which feature a Doobie Brothers-type breakdown in the middle that is, well, awe-inspring.

I rest my case.