100 Songs I Love: 123-126

Wow, there's been a whole lot of negativity popping up on GEP lately. That review of Zendik's We the Poet was harsh. Deserved and funny, but mean. And it seems like I'm always going on and on about songs I hate and movies I think look stupid so much that I feel like I've lost the original vision I had for Giant Electric Penguin, or, rather, the second original vision, as the original original vision was a horror movie review blog. The second original vision I had for this blog was that it would be a place of celebration; a celebration of the awful things in life, yes, but also the enjoyable, the tuneful, and the competently constructed. So, without further blah-blah-blah, I give you the latest, and the weirdest, installment of 100 Songs I Love. 


123. "Cocktails for Two" (Spike Jones and The City Slickers)  


"Cocktails for Two" is one of my favorite songs from my youth, particularly middle school, when a friend, Chris, introduced me to the wacky world of Spike Jones. Before my family moved to North Carolina, this friend was nice enough to record for me probably the best mixtape I've ever been given. The A-Side featured the songs of Tom Lehrer and a collection of Beatles parodies written and recorded by Chris himself, who was and is an accomplished pianist. The B-Side was wall-to-wall Spike Jones. I listened to this tape endlessly during my first summer and freshman year in Charlotte. Then everybody got into ska or whatever (ugh) and that lasted pretty much until college, where you learn on the first day, no matter what university, community college or online institution you get into, that ska is basically the worst thing ever.


I love Spike Jones. Who doesn't? People who hate life, I guess. The above film, a raucous tribute to drinking, smoking and causal transvestism, just makes "Cocktails for Two" that much better. No matter where I go or what I do in life, I will never stop being thankful to Chris for bringing Spike Jones and his wacky, wacky kids into my life.


124. "Stay With You" (capsule)



I love pop music, and if that love pop music includes a plethora of beeps, boops, auto-tuned weirdness, and Japanese lyrics, well, I'm even more in. And I don't think it gets any more poppy or Japanese than capsule's "Stay With You." This song makes my brain feel good. It makes me want to dance, and I have a strict "only-dance-at-weddings" policy. Toshiko Koshijima could be singing about animal torture, and I'd still feel like dancing. That's how infectious this song's groove is. I'm quite aware that many of my readers will choose to resist "Stay With You." To you sad-sacks I say, too bad.


125. "Still Alive" (GLaDOS & Jonathan Coulton)  


Here's what I know about the video game Portal: it involves portals and I would be terrible at it. There's also something about cake. 


"Still Alive" is the song that plays over Portal's end credits, written by Jonathan Coulton and sung by a robot that apparently gives you non-stop shit during the game. 


Funny story: I don't know how this song got onto my iTunes. I don't remember buying it, but there it was, languishing in obscurity, until one chore-filled afternoon (my life seems, and is, chock full of these right now), I went into song shuffle mode and about ten songs in, this perfect little pop gem appeared. It's got everything I love: killer hooks, lyrics about death and science experiments and a singing female robot. It's like Jonathan Coulton climbed into my dreams and wrote a song about what he encountered there. "Still Alive" is so good, thought I am still perplexed about where it came from.


126. "Whatever You Like" (Anya Marina)  


Yes, this yet another white girl with a child's voice covering a rap song--in this case T.I.'s "Whatever You Like"-- featuring lyrics about wet, late night sex sessions and masterful blowjobs, while strumming an acoustic guitar. I know, it's all be done before, but, dammit, I like this. A lot. It's tons better than the original. For real. "Whatever You Like" kinda sucks.

GEP's Initial Listen Report Card: We the Poet

Who or what is Zendik?  Well, until today, I thought Zendik was simply a band that recorded some album titled We the Poet that I bought from a hippie at a music festival in Charlotte, North Carolina ten or so years ago and never listened to.  I can't remember why I even bought this thing.  Was the hippie dude's sales pitch really that amazing?  I was pretty free with my money back then--tossing five spots at every homeless person who crossed my path, cramming bills into any tip jar I could find--but if I'm remembering correctly, I think I paid ten whole dollars for this thing.  Damn, that hippie must've sweet talked me somethin' fierce.


So, yeah, I purchased We the Poet from some weirdo while standing in the hot, hot sun watching the guitarist from Cracker do yet another over-the-top, goofball guitar solo at the edge of the stage.  I bought it, took it home, forgot about it. The fact that it has traveled with me from Charlotte to Buies Creek to Raleigh, from shabby apartment to shabbier apartment, and finally to the home I share with my wife and child, is amazing.  Not so amazing is the fact that I've never listened to even a second of it until today.  I do that a lot--purchase albums and never listen to them.  Or, rather, skip through them, find two or three songs I like, and ignore the remainder of the album for months and months.  I do this with bands I like.


Anyway, what is Zendik?  Your best bet is to check out this Zendik FAQ that I discovered while conducting my own research, written by someone who's actually been there.  Essentially, Zendik is a cult for outsider artist types, and not even the good kind of cult with orgies and stuff.  (I urge you to check out the link.  There is some fascinatingly creepy stuff going on at that farm, man.)


It's been 10 years, so, I guess I felt like I owed it to myself to finally give We the Poet a listen.  "Maybe it's really good," I said to myself.  Was I right?  Let's find out.


1. "What Happened to Rock 'N Roll" -- F
A strange, but not terrible, pseudo-metal intro goes horribly awry when Zendik's lead singer/cult leader, Arol, starts sing-shouting in a tone deaf, marble-mouthed voice about how rock music has been ruined by money and profits and corporate control.  "They took my money," Arol shouts at one point.  "They" didn't take your money, you idiot, you gave it to them.  Quit whining and, I don't know, go check on this year's tomato crop at ole Zendik Farm.  


Oh, by the way, this song is over ten minutes long.


2. "My Life Would Sing" -- F
What kind of song goes with a title like that, ya think?  Something poppy and fun, maybe?  Wrong.  "My Life Would Sing" is Zendik's take on "The End" by The Doors.  Arol's voice sounds like somebody's grandma emptied every bottle in the liquor cabinet down her throat and recorded herself singing along with the radio.


3. "How Many" -- D
This is probably as good a time as any to tell you that We the Poet is completely improvised.  That being said: oh, brudder, the lyrics on this one. Sludge in the sky?  Who's putting sludge in the sky, Arol, huh?  How does sludge even stay suspended in the sky?  And what ocean has ever run dry? Seriously, where are these huge expanses of desert where Earth's oceans used to be?  What are you mumbling about now, Grandma?  Take the dumb, obvious, "woe is me Mother Earth is in trouble you guys" lyrics out though and you've got a pretty funky little instrumental.


4. "Last Chance Blues" -- F 
Not technically the blues, aside from Arol whining about how she cries sometimes or whatever.  Question: Why did this violin player, listed simply as Mazz in the CD insert, lend any of her time and talent to this garbage band? What, did Arol threaten to take her dessert privileges away?  If you've checked out that Zendik FAQ, you'd know that this isn't out of the realm of possibilities. Mazz is talented.  The rest of the song sounds like "Audrey's Dance" if the jukebox at the Double R Diner was broken.


5. "Girl Could Dance" -- F
9 minutes and 51 seconds?!  Really, Zendik?


6. "Never Had A Chance" -- F
I figured this album would be bad, but, c'mon!  This is insane!  There is no one on this planet who could possibly derive any pleasure from listening to this record.  Honestly.  Are Bakhu, Bugz, Finny, Kord, Mazz, and Krisp (AKA, Arol's backing band) proud of this hunk of shit?  It's nothing but improvised noise accompanied by the caterwauling of a withered old crone with the most unoriginal ideas about everything ever.  This album plays like The Doors without Ray Manzarek's keyboards.  Are you starting to get it?


7. "River In My Mind" -- F
This is the third song on We the Poet that opens with the words "how many," which I'm assuming is the most common phrase people think of when improvising song lyrics.  Dammit, I hope Mazz got out of this cult successfully. She deserves so much better.


8. "Gambler" -- F 
Bullshit.


9. "Let It Rip" -- F
More like "Let Me Skip (It)."


This is without a doubt the worst thing I've ever heard.  I have half a mind to march down to that farm and demand my money back.


In summation, fuck We the Poet.

100 Songs I Hate: 30-33

30. "Californication" (Red Hot Chili Peppers)  


There are people on this planet--they may even live in your neighborhood, delivery your pizzas or let their dogs bark at you whenever you are in your driveway minding your own business--that think "Californication" by Red Hot Chili Peppers is great poetry. I find its lyrics dumb, but, fine, let's join the brutish crowd and assume that "Californication" is saying something profound. It isn't, but we're pretendin'. I'm willing to believe you, weirdos who champion this supremely silly song, when you assert that Anthony Kiedis is lamenting the "Hollywood-ization" of the planet and how everything is fake and empty and meaningless, but what the fuck does the phrase "firstborn unicorn" have to do with anything? Seriously. Stop analyzing this middle schooler's diary poem for a moment and explain "firstborn unicorn." You can't, because it is ridiculous. As is the follow-up line "hardcore soft porn." What?!? 


OK, pretend time is over. This song is chock full of ridiculous bullshitty lines and references that give the impression of depth, but provide nothing but a broken neck and a lifetime of wheelchair livin' to anyone who mistakenly dives in. It is garbage. 


Say something nice, bro: It's got a nice groove to it. 


A note to 96.1 FM: I mentioned our local "classic rock" radio station last month and how they never play "Dream Weaver" (still haven't played it!!!). They do, however, play a shit ton of ZZ Top (ugh), ACDC (that's fine), and RHCP. Now, I'm not immune to the inherent grooviness found in the Chili Pepper's earlier output, but they don't play that stuff. They play this song. ALL THE TIME! Well, this one and that one from The Coneheads movie soundtrack. They play the Coneheads song! C'mon, 96.1 FM! Ever heard of a little song called "Higher Ground?" 


GEP insists: Following that link above will lead to hours of forehead slapping enjoyment. You're welcome. 


 31. "Self Esteem" (The Offspring)
   


I was a fan of The Offspring in high school. I'm not going to go back and alter my musical history. My friend Brent got me Smash for Christmas and we listened the shit out it. We also loved Bush. That's right. I enjoyed the music of Bush and The Offspring in high school. I also listened to a lot of ska. Oh, brother. Ska. 


There was probably a time when I really enjoyed "Self Esteem." I had a girl that I was utterly devoted to who embraced me or brushed me off completely depending on her mood, so I could relate to Dexter Holland's words. I also liked to jump frantically around my room to loud rock music until my parents yelled at me to stop shaking the whole house. As an adult, however, I listen to "Self Esteem"--and they play it all the damn time on, you guessed it, 96.1 FM--and one line strikes me as odd. I bet you already know what I'm going to write, but I'll write it anyway: 


"I took her back and I made her dessert." 


He made her dessert? Like, he made her an ice cream sundae or something? This song is dumb. 


 32. "3 Second Rule" (Lisa Gail Allred)  


For everyone who has had enough auto tune: are you sure?


33. "When She Was Mine" (Lawson)



You have to change your band's name, like, right now.  Seriously.  Change it.  I will sue.  

100 Songs I Hate: 27-29

27. "A Case of You" (James Blake)



Listen, I don't know what kind of music you like. Maybe you think this Joni Mitchell cover is the most beautiful thing you've ever heard in your entire life up to this point. I think it sounds like, Aaron Neville doing a shoddy, over-the-top impression of himself, like, at a party, for laughs or something. It's boring and it's garbled and I don't like it one bit.

I get this weird feeling when I listen to this song--and the five other songs by Mr. Blake I sampled before concluding that most of his oeuvre is utter garbage--that people who like this guy, probably rabidly like this guy. James Blake seems like one of those artists that has the kind of fans that would be severely and irrationally super pissed off by anything that appeared to denigrate their golden rock god in any way, like, if some bald asshole trashed his music on a little-read, in-no-way-influential pop-culture blog. So, I'll just reiterate that this isn't for me, but if you like it, go ahead and like it.

Also, who would want to drink a case of someone? That's serial killer shit right there, son.

28. "Somethin' 'bout a Truck" (Kip Moore)



Another list of things rednecks enjoy posing as a legitimate song. Hot diggity dang!

Apparently, there is something about a truck, ice cold beer, private property, and drunken swimming at 2 in the morning that is so damn important, Kip Moore just had to write a "song" 'bout it. I think that something is date rape, but I can't be 100-percent certain. I don't want to put words into Moore's mouth, you see. I don't want to put anything in Moore's mouth, especially any more of that ice cold beer. This seems to be how things progress in the song:

1. Moore and a lady friend are driving around in his truck late one night when they come across a farmer's field with a NO TRESPASSING sign posted. They are almost assuredly intoxicated.

2. Ignoring the sign, they drive onto the farmer's land and crack a couple more beers.

3. Moore notices the lady friend's red sundress and decides he needs to take "sexual action" before he makes a "mess" (premature ejaculation?) of himself. The lady friend continues to drink.

4. They kiss. Beer is consumed. Moore probably slips something in the lady friend's drink.

5. They find a creek, take their clothes off, and go swimming.

6. In the water, Moore makes his move.

7. The lady friend does not respond positively, so country singer Kip Moore drowns her in the creek.

8. After drinking the rest of the beers, Moore drives his truck home and records the demo that will eventually become "Somethin' 'bout a Truck" in his home studio.

I sort of had to guess at some of the later stuff, but it's sick, right?

29. "Cartoon Song" (Chris Rice)



I'm almost 99-percent sure GEP has shared this song before. How could we not? It is utterly ridiculous.

First of all, if cartoons got saved, why wouldn't they just say hallelujah in the same normal way other saved individuals say it? I'm not sure I agree with Rice's premise that they would start singing praise in a "whole new way." I think they'd probably join a church and kind of, you know, follow everybody else's lead. It'd be chaos if everyone was doing whatever the heck they wanted during a church service. I've been to a pentecostal church. I've seen it. It was like a circus in there. Some people were running up and down the aisles; others were dancing in front of the altar; the guy next to me was screaming and yelping. Imagine a couple of cartoon characters thrown in doing their own thing. Like, imagine Yogi Bear is next to you shouting "Hey-Boo-Boo-lujah!" To quote Rob Dyrdek, that would be pure ridiculousness.

Secondly, they wouldn't be singing praise in a "whole new way," they'd just be singing praise period. They just got saved, man, I think it's safe to assume they were not singing any sort of praise up to that point. But that's kind of nitpicky, I guess.

Thirdly, Kermit the Frog is not a cartoon. Baby Kermit was, but, c'mon, surely Baby Kermit was in no position to make an informed decision on whether or not he wanted to dedicate his life to the god of the Christian Bible. He was a baby! Babies drool and cry and pee their pants. I know. My daughter is a baby. They don't know what's going on at church. For example, we took Shrimpkin to church on Easter Sunday to see her Pop-Pop in the Easter play and she loved it. She clapped along with the music and shouted excitedly during communion. She didn't know any better. I whispered, "Don't enjoy this too much," to her, but then admitted that the music was pretty good. I've said it before and I'll say it again: I like a hymn.

Fourthly, everyone knows the Smurfs are Hare Krishnas. Duh!

Fively, why are Beavis and "that other guy" denied salvation? That to me is the most despicable moment in the song. What is Chris Rice saying exactly? That there are limits to Jesus's love? Sorry, Rice, but I believe Beavis and Butthead were the exact types of people Jesus was hanging with when he was doing his Father's work on Earth. I can just see Jesus on that couch between Beavis and Butthead, chomping on nachos and poking fun at Public Image Ltd.

100 Songs I Love: 122

122. "Dream Weaver" (Gary Wright)



When I started working for the government (i.e. The Man) five years ago, I was delighted to learn that employees were allowed to listen to music at their desks. The temp job I held for two years before this did not permit such distractions, even though I spent my days filing, stuffing envelopes, and/or staring forlornly at the carpeted walls of my cubicle praying for the sweet release of death. Music could've really come in handy, you know; chase the suicidal thoughts away or whatever. But none of that mattered anymore. I was no longer a temp. I was a respectable, gainfully employed member of society now and respectable, gainfully employed members of society get to listen to music while they work.

So, I purchased a cheap radio/CD player from Wal-mart. It proved itself a hunk of shit right out of the box, but it provided the sweet tune-age my brain required to maintain it's sanity, so I was delighted. Then, when I got tired of listening to the same Asobi Seksu album over and over (I listened to Citrus five times in a row one day--that's not a bad thing, it's a great record), I had the radio option (by this time I had moved up to the 8th floor and had a window in my office). I listened to NPR almost exclusively and for awhile it was a good fun time. Soon, however, the radio/CD player's inherent shittiness became too much to bear, plus, I had an iPod now and I mostly listened to podcasts anyway, so I donated the radio to my newborn daughter. "Here's a piece of garbage CD player with a short in it somewhere," I said, dropping it off unceremoniously in Quinn's bedroom. "Enjoy yourself."

What does any of this have to do with Gary Wright's "Dream Weaver." I'm gettin' to it! Patience!

When Quinn turned about eight months or so, me and my wife decided to turn the guest room into a guest-room-slash-play-room thing. We moved Quinn's toy box, her various puppets, and her Little People Little Talker's Zoo into the room. We also moved the crappy radio/CD player. The thing will hardly play a CD any more--the conditions have to be just right--so we turned to the radio for our musical needs, settling on 96.1, Raleigh's "hybrid" classic rock station.

Hybrid, you ask. Yes. For every expected classic rock band they play (Led Zeppelin, ACDC, Steve Miller Band), they'll play something from the 90's (Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Red Hot Chili Peppers, the song "Linger" by the Cranberries). As far as radio stations go, it's pretty great. For better or worse, there are no DJ's, so we get a pretty solid, uninterrupted block of rock every night during playtime. The classic rock appeals to my wife, while the 90's alternative satisfies my listening needs. I like some of the classic stuff too. I do mistake every other song for "Jessie's Girl," but most people do that, right?

(A note on that "Jessie's Girl" thing: Until this morning, when I was telling my wife about my plans to write the very piece you are now reading, Jen was under the impression that my whole "this is 'Jessie's Girl,' right?" thing was a joke. It, sadly, is not.)

We've been listening to 96.1 in the playroom for a long time now and I've noticed something: They never actually play 'Jessie's Girl."

Also, they never play Gary Wright's "Dream Weaver." I've had limited exposure to classic rock radio, but there was a station I would sometimes listen to in Charlotte that presented itself as a classic rock station, and they played "Dream Weaver" all the time. What gives, 96.1? You'll play every single ZZ Top ever released and Tesla's "Love Song" 50-times a day, but no "Dream Weaver?"

I like "Dream Weaver." It's weird and nice. And it reminds me of Wayne's World. I liked Wayne's World.

I've been threatening to call 96.1 and request "Dream Weaver" for, like, three weeks now. I think I'm going to do it. Maybe they can play it between "Thunderstruck" and "La Grange" one day. Dammit, I hate "La Grange." But that's for an entirely different feature. I'll let you know what happens with this whole "Dream Weaver" situation.

NEXT TIME: GEP calls out 96.1 FM for never paying Europe's "The Final Countdown."

Good Friday just got even better

This seemed appropriate for today. Sigh. Nothing like a visit from an old friend.

Wednesday Morning What the WTF Music?!?

So, I heard this newish Blink-182 song for the first time last weekend:



Now, I've never kept my enjoyment of Blink-182 a secret. I like them. Their music meant a lot more to me in high school and college, but I still dump a load of their tunes onto my iPod from time to time and, you know, rock out or whatever. I kind of even like this song. I just have one question...

Why does Tom DeLonge still sing like that? I don't mean the whininess. He's always rocked the whininess. It's the oddball pronunciation of certain words. Like, no one says "demon" that way. Or "year." At least, I think he's saying the word "year." What the hell?

Tom DeLonge is 36-years-old. Thirty-six! Why is he still singing like a snotty teenage asshole? It's offputting. Tone it down a little, Tom. Sheesh.

Sunday Bloody Sunday: New Music Tuesday is gonna be awesome, you guys!!!

On Sunday mornings, my wife divides the paper, making a pile for each of us to read during breakfast. She gets the crossword puzzle, coupons, and the North Raleigh News section; I get the funnies, Parade magazine, the part of the Arts & Entertainment section that houses "Dear Amy," and the Best Buy sales paper.

My favorite part of the Best Buy sales paper is the music page, since, you know, I hate most of the music Best Buy chooses to showcase (They obviously have a lot of leftover copies of "Get Rich or Die Tryin'" right now). This morning's announcement of Tuesday's New Releases seemed especially horrific, so much so, that I felt compelled to devote a Sunday Bloody Sunday column to them. So, what comes out this Tuesday that Best Buy thinks I'll love? Let's find out.

Ruben Studdard: Letters From Birmingham

Even Ruben can't believe he's recorded another album. Look at his face. He's either disgusted with himself or fast asleep. I think it's probably a combination of the two, like, he was so let down by the album that he ate himself into a food coma.

That isn't fair. Maybe this record is great. Maybe Ruben will make the comeback of the year. Probably not, but I'm not gonna count the Velvet Teddy Bear out. After all, there must have been an outcry for a new Ruben Studdard album, right? I mean, record companies don't release new albums by artists nobody likes or listens to anymore, right? Right???

The Ting Tings: Sounds from Nowheresville

Ooooo, creepy cover. This band is obviously on the cutting edge of bad-ass rock and roll. Let's take a listen.



Wait a minute...

Oh, by the way, that girl is 29-years-old. Take that however you want.

One Direction: Up All Night

Ironically enough, I see this album going in one direction: toward my garbage can.

But, seriously, where are these dudes staying up all night? A youth group lock-in?

I'm just busting your walnuts, Niall, Zayn, Liam, Harry, and Louis. You seem like nice, clean-cut young men. Not sure why you're grabbing that one guys boob, but, hey, they wouldn't call it friendship if some good-natured grab-assery wasn't involved.

So the boys of One Direction are nice guys. What about the music? I'm glad you asked. You won't be.



Wait a minute! These guys break tables just for a laugh? Do you know how much tables cost these days, One Direction? I bet you don't, what, with your millions of dollars and your private butlers and your astronomical table budget. Maybe these dudes aren't so nice after all.

Spend your allowances wisely this Tuesday, teenage idiots!

Sunday Morning Music: Jesus Christ!

Observations:

1. That little guy can dance!

2. What or who is on trial in the courtroom scene? And why does the judge allow one of the lawyers to strangle that dude on the witness stand?

3. Why does the big guy break the little guy's neck? Furthermore, why does he flashback to a time he was praying in church after he does it? It seems like after the flashback to that time in church, the big guy is given the strength to hurt more people. Kind of a conflicting message.

4. Best line: "With Jesus in my life, my suffering will be brief." No doubt about it, there will be suffering, but it'll be brief suffering, so be cool.

5. I kinda wish the whole thing was that stuff during the end credits. Oh, well.

In conclusion: Good job, guys. You can't sing and I can't follow your narrative, but you did something, and that's more than I've ever done.

Variations on a Theme: Punky Brewster

Variations on a Theme looks at television theme songs/opening credit sequences and breaks them down for the average viewer.

Program: Punky Brewster (1980's)

The Song: "Every Time I Turn Around" is the worst Billy Joel song ever. It is written and performed by a man who has, for some reason, chosen to record his vocals and have his testicles squished in a vice at the same time.

The Opening Credit Sequence: I've never watched Punky Brewster, so all I know about the story is what the opening credit sequence gives me. And what it gives me is the chills. Is this little girl homeless? Does that lady who gives Punky a single coin after she helps carry a bag of groceries wonder what's going on? "Why is there a ten-year-old girl hanging around outside of a grocery store offering to lug grocery bags to people's cars for spare change?" It doesn't seem as if she's concerned at all. What kind of world does this show take place in?

And this old guy. Why is he so angry? Did you see the way he kicked that door? And he obviously hates homeless people. I assume he and Punky are going to hook up at some point and have some wacky misadventures, as I'm fairly certain this was a sitcom and not a depressing expose on the homeless children problem in the 1980's, but by the end of the theme song, he's gone home and Punky's pulling her puppy up a fire escape. And who's feeding that puppy? This show is sick.

Things are starting to look up for ol' Punky in the Season Two opening however:

Punky lives with the angry old man now. She's going to Cubs games. She has African-American friends. She goes camping with the aforementioned African-American friends. Life is good. No more slinging grocery bags for a pittance for Punks. She's moving up in the world.

As I mentioned earlier, I've never seen an episode of this Punky Brewster. I am, unfortunately, familiar with this Punky Brewster:

Oh, brudder. Where do I even start with this thing? The theme song itself isn't so bad. It's sort of a Cyndi Lauper/Doo-wop mash-up that, like any 80's cartoon theme song worth a damn, lodges itself directing into the part of the human brain that collects dopey ephemera and saves it for future nonsensical use. I like it a whole lot more than the live-action Punky theme, which I absolutely hate.

But what of the show itself? While it is true that I watched this cartoon on a regular basis when I was a boy, I couldn't describe one episode to you. I seem to remember that furry gopher thingy having a grating voice, but that is where my hazy memories both begin and end. So, let's judge the entirety of the series through it's opening credit sequence.

1. Does somebody own the rights to leprechauns? Seriously. Is there a family in Ireland who receives a royalty check any time someone slaps a leprechaun on a St. Patrick's Day card or Warwick Davis dons his evil leprechaun costume? We all know what one will find at the end of a rainbow, right? A leprechaun's pot of gold. That's it. Now, I'm willing to consider the idea that a leprechaun him/herself may also live at the rainbow's end, maybe in a tiny, magical village. What I'm not willing to accept is the idea that this tiny village might instead be inhabited by magic gophers. That is clearly a leprechaun village, right? Leprechauns should be there, RIGHT?

(Note: A quick perusal of the Wikipedia entry for It's Punky Brewster, describes Glomer, the bipedal rodent Punky meets at the end of the rainbow, as a "leprechaun gopher." Yeah, that's a thing.)

2. Did every cartoon gang back in the day have to be in a band?

3. There's really nothing else. I mostly have a problem with the magic gopher thing.

(Note: I remembered correctly. Glomer's voice is irritating. Sounds like Slimer. On Slimer, the voice isn't so bad. Coming out of a leprechaun gopher's mouth, it's terrible.)

Variations on a Theme: Perfect Strangers

Variations on a Theme looks at television theme songs/opening credit sequences and breaks them down for the average viewer.

Program: Perfect Strangers (1986-1993)

The Song: I kind of love the opening harmonica riff. Then that dude starts singing, and I expect everybody to pull Mentos out of their pants. Seriously. This song sounds like the world's longest and most earnest commercial for mint candies.

It's this earnestness, however, that makes me enjoy the song so much. No one should be this passionate about Perfect Strangers. I mean, I loved Balki's hijinks as a child, but, hell, Full House was appointment viewing when I was younger. Obviously, I didn't ask much from my sitcoms in the early 90's, just silly accents and occasional dances of joy. I also didn't think about the theme song when I was a kid. It was just this musical distraction keeping me from my weekly Balki fix. These days, as a grown man with a vast knowledge of kitsch and it's many benefits to the human body, I can fully enjoy a stupid song like "Nothing's Gonna Stop Me Now."

Here's a little look at my private life if you care: Every few months, me and my wife will randomly enter into some weird sitcom theme song sing-off. She'll sing a little "Growing Pains," I'll follow that up with "Family Matters" or my version of "Who's the Boss" ("There's a time for cats and a time for kittens/I like cats and kittens too."), she'll come in with a little "Charles in Charge," and I'll do a little "Full House." The point is, we know all of these songs by heart. I've known the Perfect Strangers theme song by heart since I was a young man. That's either really sick or kinda cool. Probably a combination of the two.

But these were songs you could memorize and sing over and over again. They were actual songs. Not great songs, but catchy, memorable, real ones, with verses and choruses and everything. And "Nothing's Gonna Stop Me Now" remains one of the best, even with its repetition of "on the wings of my dreams." That's a little clunky, if I'm being honest.

The Opening Credit Sequence: Pretty much gives us a quick overview of what's happened before the show proper. One of our heroes has traveled to the United States from a country where lightly-mangled English yields hilarious results ("America or Burst." Oh, that's rich.); the other is moving from the comfort and safety of the suburbs to the Big City for the first time. What will happen when these two mismatched goofballs join forces? Why, baseball games, short pants, and wacky slapstick comedy, of course! And that's basically what happens on any given episode, right? It's been a long time since I've seen it.

Variations on a Theme: Shirt Tales

Variations on a Theme looks at television theme songs/opening credit sequences and breaks them down for the average viewer.



Program: Shirt Tales (1982-1984)

The Song: Oh, man, this shit is funky! You could make love to this song, you know, until the chubby little panda starts singing. That might be a mood killer. Depends on your partner. Maybe the thought of pantless, cartoon animals in message tees serenading your lovemaking is a turn on to him/her. They say it takes all kinds. I don't know why "they" say it, but "they" do.

The song starts with a funky, bass-heavy beat, but turns into a rather mundane ditty about the services the Shirt Tales provide once the lyrics kick in. Apparently the Shirt Tales can: help you out of a jam; motivate you in some unexplained way if you find yourself paralyzed with fear; and/or assist you when the going gets tough and/or rough. You know what that means: dead hooker disposal.

The Opening Credit Sequence: You know, I kind of feel like that milkman or postal employee (what is he?) who appears at the end of the Shirt Tale's opening credits and shrugs. I don't have any idea what it is the Shirt Tales can do. They have a sweet futuristic car that can fly or be a boat, but I assume their services are specifically catered to children. What problems could arise in a 5-year-old's life that would require the use of a rocket car?

I remember the Shirt Tales, but I don't remember their show. What kind of problems did they solve? What kinds of dangers did they face? Does the rocket car have guns on it? If so, do they fire bullets, G.I. Joe-style lasers, or flower petals? I think the Shirt Tales gang had magical t-shirts or something, but other than that, I'm right there with the confused mail-delivering milkman.

STFU, Aaron Neville!

I have a seven-month-old daughter. For Christmas, the wife and I got her the Fisher-Price Little People's Zoo and as many animals as we could get our hands on. Those little bastards are hard to find. There were always plenty of zoos on the shelf at Toys-R-Us, but never any animals. You need the zoo to hear the animals make their various noises, you idiots. How about leaving some Zoo Talkers for the rest of us, huh?

I'm not complaining. We've got plenty of good animals. You wouldn't believe how a rhinoceros sounds. Quinn also has an ostrich, a gorilla, a lion, a tiger, a bear, a polar bear, a seal, a killer whale, and a dolphin. Now, sure, the zoo in question has nothing more than a tiny pond for the dolphin and the orca to share, but that's OK. I mean, Quinn doesn't care. She spends most of her playtime chewing on Zookeeper Zack's head or repeatedly smacking the red button that triggers zoo announcements ("The animals are hungry!" "There's so many animals to see at the zoo." "The animals are tired. It's bedtime at the zoo." etc.). All that matters to me though is that Quinn is happy. She is welcome to enjoy the zoo however she sees fit, though I do spend probably way too long putting the animals back in their proper areas post-playtime.

What does all of this have to do with the dulcet tones of Mr. Aaron Neville? I'm getting there.

Quinn's zoo came with a DVD. The DVD contains a new Little People's cartoon and four classic episodes. Yes, there is a Little People's TV show. So, Monday night, after Quinn went to bed, me and my wife climbed into bed and watched a couple of episodes. The new Little People's adventure featured some of the dopiest, sub-Dreamworks computer animation I've ever seen, but it was cute, so, screw it. The classic episodes we watched featured sub-Will Vinton-style claymation ("You can see the fingerprints," Jen pointed out several times.) and this theme song:



This is "The Discovery Song." I'm sure you think I'm a huge dick for what you think I am about to write, and you are not completely wrong. This song is dumb, yes. It opens a mediocre-looking children's television program chock full of pumpkin-headed children learning idiotic lessons, true. But I'm not going to waste my time poking fun at the Little People. I love the Little People. We've got so many damn Little People, our house is starting to look like Lilliput. But this song, not unlike a certain little ditty about gates being left open, worms it's way into your head and won't let go. There's only one problem: the only lyric I can ever remember is the two word phrase "discovering Michael." Do you know how embarrassing it is to be sitting at your desk at work and without you even knowing it the words "discovering Michael" spilling out of your mouth in a Neville-style lilt? It's super embarrassing! "Who's this Michael you're discovering, Matt?" your co-worker who happens to be passing by asks. Next thing you know, the whole office thinks that you're carrying on a gay tryst behind your wife's back. I'm not saying that's happened, but it could! The rumor. Not the tryst.

I anticipate this happening quite a bit--dumb, catchy kid songs hooking themselves parasitically into my brain--now that I'm a father. I don't mind. I love dumb, catchy things. My wife doesn't love that I love dumb, catchy things, but that's her cross to bear. I just never thought I would have the phrase "discovering Michael" constantly on the tip of my tongue, ready to rip without my permission, and, for that reason, I respectfully request that you kindly STFU, Aaron Neville.

Perving Out presents Wednesday Morning Music: Girls' Generation-"The Boys"

This song is completely awful. But it's performed by Girls' Generation, an all-female, South Korean pop group. Dumb song performed by 9 super hot Korean girls = essential viewing. If there had only been 8 girls in the group, I wouldn't have posted this on the blog. You just made it, Girls' Generation. You're welcome.

Variations on a Theme: The Archie Show

Variations on a Theme looks at television theme songs/opening credit sequences and breaks them down for the average viewer.



Program: The Archie Show (1968)

The Song: So, yeah, I'm sorry. "Everything's Archie" is, quite possibly, the catchiest song ever recorded. On top of that, it is really, really stupid. These factors working together are enough to irritate even the most patient of significant others.

The Opening Credit Sequence: First of all, The Archie Show's opening credits were designed to illicit seizures from its viewership, correct? What other explanation is there for the near-constant flashing? I have never experienced any strobe-induced seizures, but I've found as I get older that it gets harder and harder for my brain to withstand any sort of repetitive, flashing nonsense. I have to watch this sequence through laced fingers, eyes squinted. You might be asking, "Why do you have to watch this at all?" to which I can only respond, good point.

Secondly, why is it so important that Jughead is present? His drumsticks seem to be doing all right without him.

And are we to believe that Hot Dog is The Archies' band leader? That seems a tad dubious, no?

STFU, Citi Spot Featuring L.P.'s "Into The Wild"

Chances are you've seen this commercial:



Until I searched for it on YouTube, I didn't even know what this commercial was for. So, I don't have a problem with the actual advertisement or anything, I just hate the part when the accompanying song hits its crescendo and the singer belts out the words, "Somebody left the gate open!" Now, I'd never heard this song before this credit card commercial, nor have I heard of this artist, so I don't have anything against her or her song. It's just, every time I see this commercial, I get the line "somebody left the gate open" stuck in my head and at random times in the day, I blurt it out. Doesn't matter where I am or what I'm doing. When "somebody left the gate open" is coming, it comes. Sort of like a fart. Sorry. That's crass. It's also totally accurate.

Because this line has the ability to lodge itself into my brain and force itself out of my body at regularly intervals, I've unfairly decided that I hate the song and it's creator, Laura Pergolizzi, (AKA, L.P.). However, I don't want to be that guy, so let's give the whole song a chance, shall we? It's called "Into The Wild" and you can listen to it right here:



In summation: STFU, CITI BANK SPOT FEATURING L.P.'S "INTO THE WILD!" (L.P. you go right ahead and keep making music.)

My Best Whatever of 2011

It's the end of another year and that means a "best of" list, but since I didn't listen to enough albums or read enough books released in 2011 and I don't post my Top Ten film list until Oscar night, I don't have much on which to reflect. So, here is a random list of things I enjoyed this year. Enjoy or something.

1. Favorite Book Discovery of 2011:

The Hunger Games Trilogy

2. Favorite Musical Discovery of 2011 (Swedish heavy metal):

Ghost's Opus Eponymous

3. Favorite Musical Discovery of 2011 (Non-Swedish heavy metal):

Joanna Newsom's The Milk Eyed Mender

4. Best New TV Character (Comedy)

Schmidt (New Girl) (pictured here portraying Sexy Santa)

5. Best New TV Character (Drama):

Emily Thorne/Amanda Clarke (Revenge)

6. Best Returning TV Character (Comedy):

Leslie Knope (Parks and Recreation)

7. Best Returning TV Character (Drama):

Richard Harrow (Boardwalk Empire) (...but what's he gonna do without Jimmy???)

8. Worst New TV Character:

Prince Louis (Gossip Girl)

9. It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia MVP of 2011:

Dennis (seen here collecting his "tools")

10. Best TacoCorp Idea of 2011:

MyFace

11. Favorite Movie of 2011 So Far:

Drive

Tomorrow: My 10 Favorite Podcasts of 2011 & GEP's Unanswered Questions Answered At Last!!!

It's Christmas Eve...

...and you know what that means!!! My favorite Christmas song ever!!!

100 Songs I Hate: 14-16

"People Are Crazy" (Billy Currington)


Make no mistake, I hate every song on the 100 Songs I Hate list, but there is a special place in Songs I Hate Hell for ditties like "People Are Crazy." Contemporary country might get crapped on more than it deserves, but for me, there is nothing more loathsome than the "Contempo-Country Story Song." And when it's got a blatantly predictable and predictably stupid twist ending like "People Are Crazy," well sir, I despise it all the more.

For those of you who've skipped over listening to Mr. Currington's 2009 hit and gone straight to my bashing of it, here's a quick re-cap: The song's narrator finds himself in the state of Ohio without any knowledge of how he got there or why. Instead of seeking medical attention for obvious brain damage, he stops in at a local bar, sits down next to an old man, and proceeds to get thoroughly wasted. The singer and old man spend the evening drinking and talking about politics, dames, and God's grace--you know, guy shit. Eventually the old man shares with the singer the culmination of his life experience, the golden nugget of wisdom he's come across in his sixty-plus years on the planet, and it is this: "God is great. Beer is good. And people are crazy." The singer and the elderly gentleman part ways. Some time later, "one sunny day," our narrator sees the old man's picture on the front page of the obituary section of his local paper (Wait, does he live in Ohio? Is that why he was in Ohio? Has he been in Ohio all along?) and learns that the old man was, in fact, a millionaire who left all of his riches to THE SONG'S NARRATOR! In turn, the narrator places a six pack of beer on the old man's grave.

No, really. That's the song. Can you imagine spending an entire evening drinking with some old man and it comes time for him to drop some old manny-type wisdom on your head and he says, "God is great, beer is good, and people are crazy?" Really, old man? That's the best you've got for me? I've spent the whole evening keeping you company, distracting you from your own mortality and that's the big secret to life, that beer is delicious? And people are crazy? How are people crazy? What percentage of people are crazy? What are they doing that makes them crazy? Getting drunk with strange old millionaires in bars? That's pretty crazy.

Anyway, this song sucks hard.

15. "Grenade" (Bruno Mars)


"Grenade" was a hit song. You've heard it, right? This is apparently the kind of song people in America want to download to their iPod and listen to. Sick.

First of all, if your kid heard this on the radio and asked you to buy them the CD or download the song on iTunes and you did, you are a terrible person. Yep. I just said that. Go back and read it again. I called you a shitty parent. How is any of the lyrical content appropriate for anyone not old enough to know that Burno Mars is completely full of shit? Bruno Mars isn't going to belly-flop on top of an active grenade or happily submit himself to a beheading to, I guess, save the life of his ex-girlfriend. Wait, is that what he's doing? How does having his head chopped off save somebody else's life? We'll get to the inherent problems the song's lyrics raise in a moment. Let's get back to you being a horrible parent. Yeah, so, what, your kid gets into a stupid pre-teen relationship and it ends, as they ALWAYS do, and you find it perfectly acceptable for them to submerge themselves in the dulcet tones of Bruno Mars and his ode to suicide? This is a horrible song with a stupid, immature message, and if you and your dumb kids rock out to it in the car on the way home from soccer practice, screw you.

Now, the adult reaction. If you heard this song on the radio and stopped at Best Buy to purchase the CD or downloaded the song on iTunes, you are an idiot who lives in a magical world where jumping in front of trains and taking bullets to the head constitutes being what is commonly referred to as a "romantic." Is it romantic to be an idiot? Listen to the song, dummy. The girl in this song hates Bruno Mars. It's not bad enough that she keeps her eyes open when they kiss--which is super creepy, you gotta admit--but she also TAMPERS WITH HIS CAR'S BRAKES! This woman is, for lack of a better term, a mega bitch. Even so, Bruno would die for her, and not just die, but be killed in various horrific and gory ways. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

I'm serious now: if you are an adult human with a normal functioning brain who genuinely enjoys "Grenade," tell me why in our comments section. You can be anonymous about it. I won't personally attack you. I just don't understand the appeal. It isn't even a terribly catchy song. But it was a #1 hit, so what the eff do I know. Maybe I should just shut my mouth.

Nah.

16. "Last Friday Night (T.G.I.F.)" (Katy Perry)


OK. This song has a few things going for it. 1.) It's catchy. 2.) The appearances of Rebecca Black and some of the Glee gang in the video is cute. 3.) Katy Perry is nice to look at, you know, after the transformation and everything. It's the lyrics I have a problem with and that's only because, believe it or not, America's children are the reason Katy Perry has a career.

I mentioned in a past post that segments of the media seem to view Perry as a children's entertainer of sorts. Sure, "Firework" is a triumphant teenage ode to being yourself, but songs like "Last Friday Night" celebrate debauchery in all of it's splendid forms. And, sure, Perry may mention having a boss in the lyrics, indicating that the listed revelries were experienced by young people of college age at least, but the video is set at the kind of giant high school house party made famous by, I think, every single teenage comedy film from the 80's. Isn't Rebecca Black, like, 14-years old? Who's her boss?

"C'mon, old man," you might be yelling at your computer, "Katy Perry is fun. My kids love the beat. Why don't you get off your high horse and have fun for once." To you I say, you're an adult. Have yourself a Katy Perry-style good time. But do your kids really need this song to dance to? There isn't something equally poppy and/or grating to which to get funky?

Here's a quick, fun list of just some of the shenanigans Perry and her buddies got into last Friday night: anonymous sex; underage drinking; glitter littering; heavy petting; bar fighting; heavier petting; public indecency both in and out of water; contributing to the delinquency of a minor (Get out of the house, Rebecca! Run back to that wholesome party from your video!); heaviest petting; French-style sexual intercourse; property damage; chandelier molestation; murder probably.

You're right. That is kid's stuff. Jerk.

100 Songs I Hate: 12-13

12. "You Are My Sunshine"





What kind of sicko sings "You Are My Sunshine" to somebody? You've got to be one depraved pervert to think this little ditty is anything but a sick, sad slog through severe manic depression. "You are my sunshine, my ONLY sunshine?" That's a lot to put on somebody. "You are the one thing in all of existence that makes me think that suicide, maybe, isn't the answer," the singer is saying. Who wants to be some depressive freak's "only sunshine?" Not me, sister! And how about this line: "You'll never know, dear, how much I love you." How come he/she is never going to know? Why don't you simply explain it to him/her that he/she is very special to you and you love him/her very much? Is it so hard to open up to an individual you claimed only seconds earlier was the only thing that could possibly "make [you] happy when skies are gray?" And the songs final plea of "please, don't take my sunshine away" is the co-dependent cherry on top of the crazynut sundae. "You Are My Sunshine" is all kinds of sick and twisted, man.



A note on this particular version: Took you long enough to settle on a tune, Miss Shelby. Sheesh! Did you practice at all before turning the camera on? Shoddy work, Miss Shelby. Shoddy work indeed.



On second thought: Listen, this song undeniably sucks, but this kid rocked it pretty hard:







Suck it, Miss Shelby!



13. "Underpuppy" (Eden Wood)





I know, I know, I know. She's a defenseless toddler. What could possibly provoke a 32-year-old man with a daughter of his own to attack poor, widdle Eden Wood?



Listen, jerks, I didn't attack Rebecca Black when "Friday" became inescapable and I have no intention of smearing Eden Wood's good name? I may have said something shitty about Black's parents, so if I may: Eden Wood's mom is gross. All pageant parents are at least 75% gross. It comes with gluing fake lashes to your baby's eyelids and training them like a seal to blow kisses and shake their diaper-clad butts at a panel of mentally-damaged judges. The whole kiddy pageant thing is gross and weird and wrong. So, yes, I don't like Eden Wood's mom.



And why does every reality "star" feel the need to parlay whatever minor amount of notoriety they've accidentally achieved into endorsement deals and badly recorded pop singles? Eden Wood needs a singing career now? Why can't she just run around a playground, eat a plate of tator tots, and zone out in front of Nick Jr. for eight hours like every other 5-year-old kid in America? Is Eden too good for that?



And who is this song for exactly? It's one-minute and twenty-six seconds of Eden Wood calling out her haters. A toddler has haters? There is a shadowy conspiracy trying to keep Eden Wood down? And how exactly is Wood the "underpuppy?" I've seen her multiple times on TLC's Toddlers & Tiaras and she sweeps the competition every time for some reason. She's the last little girl who should ever be considered an underdog.



On second thought: "Underpuppy" is pretty bad, but this live, slowed-down version of Eden's "hit" "song" "Cutie Patootie" is pure comedy gold: