I admit; putting
these lists together can be kind of hard sometimes. Keep in mind; in order to
do them I need to sit through every single hit song of a given year; every
single one, anything that charted in the top 40 that year. And depending on
what the music from that year is like, it can either be a lot of fun or it can
be a serious chore. In the event of the latter, it could be because the
majority of the music from that year was uninteresting, boring or just plain
bad, sometimes some combination of the three. 1986 would be an example of the
second one, 2001 would be an example of the third one, and 1982, the year I’ll
be covering this time around, would be an example of that first one:
uninteresting.
Now, try to
understand, there is a difference between uninteresting and boring. If
something is boring, that means it is something I find tedious to sit through;
the act of putting up with a song that is boring for anywhere from three
minutes to as long as seven is draining to me. Something that’s merely uninteresting
merely means it’s not engaging or doesn’t challenge me in any way. That doesn’t
mean that something that’s uninteresting is automatically bad. In fact, as
uninteresting as this year was, I probably liked a surprising number of songs
from it. However, it does mean that the year doesn’t feel as impressive as it
could. 1969 almost fell into this category just because a lot of the music from
that time frame was pretty samey-sounding, but made up for it with the good
music being just that good. With 1982, however, I kind of had to dig pretty
deep just to find songs that got an emotional reaction from me at all, either
good or bad.
And it’s a shame
that I have to say that because interesting things did happen in 1982. I mean,
this was the year that Madonna would see her big debut in music and the year
that Michael Jackson would release his ‘Thriller’ album! Those alone should be
enough to elevate this year, right? And not just that, but Iron Maiden released
their ‘The Number Of the Beast’ album, Joan Jett and the Blackhearts had three
top 20 hits, Peter Gabriel, Talking Heads, Elton John, John Cougar, Van Halen,
Motörhead, Dolly Parton, Duran Duran, Queen, Heart, REO Speedwagon, Judas
Priest, all these bands and artists would release albums, Ozzy Osborne’s lead
guitarist died from a plane crashing into a house, Billy Joel suffered an
injury from a motorcycle accident, Johnny Cash would host Saturday Night Live
with Elton John and his band as guest musicians, Blondie disbanded, The Who
started their farewell concert, all this stuff happened in 1982. And yet, the
end result is a curdled mixture of soft rock, the last remaining gasps of disco
music, and bizarre pop musical choices that don’t seem to make much sense once
you look at them. (Here’s looking at you, Olivia Newton-John.)
So, from a year
like this, what could the bad music possibly be like if the majority of the
music is already this lackluster? Well, there is a surprising mixture of
everything in here; stuff that’s lame, stuff that’s boring, stuff that’s stupid
and stuff that just plain sucks. With how lacking in interest the year was,
there wasn’t exactly a specific flavor of bad that stood out above the others,
so we got a little of all of them. But rather than just sit here and offer
vague descriptions of it, I think you’d rather I offer some examples. Well,
here we go, starting with our dishonorable mentions:
Tonight I’m Yours (Don’t Hurt Me) (Rod
Stewart) [--; 20; 8 weeks]
Oh, hello again
Rod Stewart. How’s that whole ‘playing the smooth lady’s man despite having a
voice like gravel’ thing going for you? What’s that? You’re offering yourself
over to this woman, telling her she can do whatever she wants with you while
begging her not to hurt you? Why, I’m sure that doesn’t make you seem the slightest
bit pathetic! Nope! Not at all!
Genius Of Love (The Tom Tom Club) [--; 31; 4
weeks]
This song just
gives me a headache to listen to. The production sounds shoddy, the vocals are
annoying and the lyrics are nonsensical. I probably would’ve put it on the list
if it had charted higher or for longer. Perhaps it would’ve been better for
these two to just stick with the Talking Heads. At least then they made good
music.
The Look Of Love (ABC) [--; 19; 10 weeks]
I’m not sure if I
have any real coherent criticism of this song. It just sounds kind of dated and
lame, and the lead singer sounds like he’s desperately trying to be the sadly
now deceased David Bowie. I guess it’s a good thing the real Bowie would go on
to release his ‘Lets Dance’ album the following year and become the pop music
icon he is beloved as to this day, else we probably would’ve continued to be
plagued by these losers for the rest of the decade. Well, from what I can tell,
we still kind of were on and off, but I’m just glad we don’t hold them to the
same regard we hold David Bowie.
Stone Cold (Rainbow) [--; 40; 1 week]
Speaking of bands
trying to sounds like other artists, here we have a low-grade Journey knockoff
that gives us about as much power and passion as one might feel right before a
trip to the dentist. Whoo. This was their only top 40 hit, and I can only
imagine how much worse the rest of their discography was if this is supposed to
be the song that represents the band.
Murphy’s Law (Chéri) [--; 39; 2 weeks]
Maybe things were
different back in the day and maybe the chipmunk voice effect didn’t sound
nearly as annoying and dated back then as it does now. However, that still
doesn’t excuse this song. This song suffers from the exact same problems as Mr.
‘Juice’s’ ‘The Rain.’ It’s a song that’s trying to present itself as this
incredible put-down to the narrator’s ex, but it just comes across as pathetic
and lame. I don’t know anything about this band, but I certainly hope to not
see them again, because this song did not win me over.
Somewhere Down the Road (Barry Manilow) [--;
21; 7 weeks]
Okay, I don’t have
anything against Barry Manilow. From what I’ve heard, he’s one of those artists
that people generally don’t like, but I haven’t heard a song of his I genuinely
hated. Hell, even this song doesn’t piss me off that much; I just think it’s
dull. Don’t get the wrong idea though; I wouldn’t have put it on here if I
didn’t think it belonged here. It’s just a pitiful, weak sauce, nothing of a
song that I just don’t find all that engaging. Next!
Key Largo (Bertie Higgins) [17; 8; 17 weeks]
And here’s yet
another song I don’t find all that engaging. This was apparently the theme song
to a film by the same name, and all I can say is that this didn’t sell me on
ever seeing the movie anytime soon. Also, I’m kind of annoyed by the way the
singer keeps rushing through his bars to try and make them fit the meter. You
need to either trim the verses down shorter or make the meter longer to
compensate for that, you jerk!
Love Plus One (Haircut One Hundred) [--; 37;
4 weeks]
This title doesn’t
make any sense. I say that because, within the song, it’s only stated in the
chorus, where it is repeated over and over without any kind of indicators to
explain what that line is supposed to be referring to. Also, if you’re the sort
that gets your panties in a twist over songs repeating the nonsense syllables
‘la la la’ or ‘doo doo doo,’ try ‘ai yai yai yai yai!’ Who does he think he is,
Alpha from “Power Rangers?” Good God is this annoying.
I Found Somebody (Glenn Frey) [--; 31; 5
weeks]
No, Glenn Frey, I
won’t be singing this song when I fall in love. Being perfectly honest, I don’t
think the song’s necessarily that bad; the melody is decent enough and Frey’s
vocals aren’t terrible. However, make no mistake, this song could have been
sung by anyone. The lyrics are as generic and cookie-cutter as you can find,
the melody is still simple to the point that a middle schooler would be able to
perform it, and while I don’t mind the vocals, they’re nothing special. This
song is as uninteresting as uninteresting can get. There’s nothing of note
brought to the table here; it is completely disposable, even more so than most
pop music.
Now then, let’s
not take our own sweet time; we’re counting down…
…THE TOP 10 WORST HIT SONGS OF
1982!
#10.
I need to make a
serious confession. I don’t actually think the literal music video for Bonnie
Tyler’s ‘Total Eclipse Of the Heart’ is that funny. I just don’t see what
people find so funny about these literal music videos; they’re just kind of
dumb to me. I prefer making my own jokes about the ridiculousness of music
videos, thank you very much. Also, I just honestly really like ‘Total Eclipse
Of the Heart’ as a song. I think it’s powerful, I think it’s moving; I just
think it’s a well-put together song. Hell, I think I like other Bonnie Tyler
songs too. I think she has a really good voice, despite the raspy quality it
has. Normally when I think of a voice like that, the one that comes to mind is
Rod Stewart, who I have never taken a liking to at all. Rod Stewart is trying
hard to come across as sexy, but can’t pull it off with that voice. Bonnie
Tyler is just emotional and powerful, and her voice does a good job matching
that.
But, of course,
before we really had Bonnie Tyler, we had to make due with the artists we were
given.
#10. Voyeur (Kim Carnes) [--; 29; 6 weeks]
Being perfectly
honest, I don’t think Kim Carnes is a bad singer. I really don’t. Having heard
her music, I think she did have some decent songs in her. Sure, some of her
early work didn’t present her voice nearly as raspy as it is in this song, but
some of those early songs were softer and gentler; it was easier for her to
cover up the raspy sound in her voice on those songs, and it worked really
well. And as my liking for songs like ‘Wind Of Change’ and ‘Total Eclipse Of
the Heart’ demonstrates, I don’t automatically hate songs that have singers
with raspy vocals on them. Raspy vocals can sometimes make a song sound more
real and earnest, or in some ways more powerful.
So, if the problem
isn’t the raspy vocals, what’s wrong with this song? Well, while I’m not all
that bothered by the rougher quality in Ms. Carnes’s voice, there is still one
itty bitty problem: her singing is
horrendously off-key! Her singing on this song is so bad, it sounds like
she was dragged into the studio and forced to sing this while half asleep!
Hell, half the time she doesn’t even sound like she’s trying to sing! I should
note that this isn’t the first song of hers to feature this problem; ‘Bette
Davis Eyes,’ the big hit single of hers just the year before, also had her
sounding like she was singing while stoned off her ass. I know, it’s not
exactly fair to keep making this comparison, but this song just can’t hold a candle
to ‘Total Eclipse Of the Heart.’ That song made Bonnie Tyler sound as if she
was really pushing herself to her limit, and she sounded amazing. Meanwhile,
‘Voyeur’ doesn’t give me any indication that Kim Carnes put forth any effort
whatsoever.
Like I said, I
feel like Carnes did have some quality in her songs. I don’t think everything
she did was trash. I just think it’s a shame that she had to put out something
like this around the peak in her chart success. I mean, yes, I thought her
biggest chart success was also pretty bad, but this song is so much worse in
that it is entirely lacking in ambition. This song doesn’t even try to sound
big or impressive like ‘Bette Davis Eyes’ did. Ultimately, I’d say, if you must
listen to Kim Carnes, stick to the stuff she did before she was famous, maybe
one or two songs she did after, because her peak in success was also her low
point in terms of quality.
#9.
It’s not often I
get to talk about groups from Australia. Most of the acts I’ve addressed were
from either the US or the UK. I guess this would be kind of a milestone worth
celebrating, if this song didn’t suck.
#9. What About Me (Moving Pictures) [--; 34;
6 weeks]
Now, there are
songs that condescend to the listener, saying that they need to stop thinking about
themselves and consider the big picture. Don’t you just get sick of songs like
that? Don’t you just get tired of having a song talk down to you and say ‘You
can’t always get what you want, deal with it?’ Now, I’m not saying that these
kinds of song are automatically bad by nature. If they’re well written and
framed well, they can actually work fairly well. Take, for example, the Carbon
Leaf song, “What About Everything.” That song talks about the various struggles
an everyday person might experience, while comparing it to the various other
things going on in the world at the same time. And it frames it all from the
first-person perspective, showing that the narrator is piecing all of this
together himself, coming to realize that, as the song puts it, “I am not in
need.” No one’s talking down to him, no one’s waving their finger at him for
daring to think big; he figures out that, for all the concerns and wants
flooding through his mind, there are other things out there to consider.
Of course, there
are also songs that try to sympathize with the listener and offer that outcry
against the world that their lives suck and that they aren’t satisfied with
what they have. That’s not necessarily a bad premise; in fact, that general
idea could be seen as a sort of framework for plenty of good songs. Songs that
focus more on the present and the here and now can still be compelling to
listen to, and that appears to be what this song is doing at first. Trying to
tell stories about people that are struggling with their lives and wanting more
than what they’re stuck with? These are not necessarily bad things to build a
song around.
So, if I have all
these good things to say about the premise of the song, why is it on the list?
Well, because while the song starts out well enough, there are a few problems
with it too. First of all, the singer’s tone is just this petulant whine that grates
on my nerves whenever I hear it. It sounds like he’s trying to do a Cartman
impression. I don’t want a voice like that to represent me! Secondly, there’s
the bridge of the song. Now, up until that point, the song was focusing
primarily on trying to connect with the audience by telling stories about how
people’s lives suck and they want better for themselves. However, once it gets
to the bridge, it starts to take a different turn. It starts talking about
‘little people’ and how we need to ‘take a step back’ and see them, as they all
say “What about me?” And it talks about how, at the end of the day, no one’s
changed or gotten any better. And you know how the narrator ends that? With
these lines: “And I’m feelin’ cold and alone/I guess I’m lucky, I smile a
lot/But sometimes I wish for more than I’ve got.” Yeah, your life sucks and you
feel miserable, but somehow that makes you ‘lucky,’ and you should feel bad for
wishing for more than you’ve got. Yeah, I know it doesn’t say that exactly, but
that’s the impression I get from listening to it.
There’s just
nothing else I can say about this song. It’s lame, it’s obnoxious, it’s
condescending in the worst way, it offers up one thing then slaps you in the
face for expecting it, and the singer sounds like a screeching child. I’m glad
this band never saw any further success in the US, and that this one success
was buried in the confines of pop music obscurity and irrelevance. Screw this
song, and screw everyone associated with it. Next!
#8.
Now, we’re all
familiar with the concept of novelty songs. They’re songs that pretty much
exist to give the audience a cheap laugh and condemn their performers to
one-hit wonderdom. Well, that’s what normally happens; I still don’t get why it
didn’t happen to Vanilla Ice, like it should have. But anyway, the ‘80s were
apparently a breeding ground for these kinds of songs. ‘Rock Me Amadeus,’ ‘Whip
It,’ ‘Safety Dance,’ ‘I Ran (So Far Away),’ and, I kid you not, a song called
‘She Blinded Me With Science’. Hey, just because a song is a novelty, that
doesn’t automatically make it bad. Unfortunately, in the case of some novelty
songs, their badness can be attributed to the thing that makes them novelty.
Such is the case with this next song, which I would regard as one of the
biggest face-palm moments of music in the early ‘80s.
#8. Pac-Man Fever (Buckner & Garcia)
[42; 9; 14 weeks]
Okay, so I like
video games and I like music. I like music from video games. I like some songs
based on video games. However, most of the time, that kind of music doesn’t
appear on the pop charts, even today. And considering that we ended up getting
this song as the only one to do so, I think I can see why. Songs like this one
give the actual good video game inspired music a bad name. It’s for the same
reason that we never got any symphonic metal or other genres of metal on the
pop charts after the early 2000s; the bad stuff polluted the airwaves too much
for the public to be willing to open up to the actual good music within these
genres. Well, either that was the case, or studio hacks didn’t think video game
music would be nearly as profitable on the pop stations as, say R&B or
middle-of-the-road pop garbage like, say, Chicago.
Anyway, you likely
haven’t ever heard of these guys before. So, let me be the one to introduce you
to Jerry Buckner and Gary Garcia, also known as the musical duo Buckner &
Garcia. They mostly wrote novelty music, even before the success of their
biggest hit. To be fair, they have stated in interviews that they never wanted
to be known as a novelty act that only made video game-based songs and wanted
to make a more varied assortment of pop music. However, the record company was
insistent and, despite the duo’s misgivings, they went along with the studio
hacks’ demands and made an entire album of video game inspired songs. Although,
when you start out making such songs as ‘Gotta Hear the Beat’ and ‘Merry
Christmas In the NFL,’ you’re kind of dooming yourself to becoming a novelty
act right at the get-go. And hoo boy, does this particular song do nothing to
make them seem less novel. The arcade sound effects and the incredibly hokey
instrumentation just make the whole thing sound terribly dated, and not in any
of the good ways. It wouldn’t surprise me if absolutely no one remembered this
song from back in the day.
The only good
thing I can think of to say about this song is that, on a creative level, this
is as interesting as this list is going to get. This is the high point in terms
of level of interesting this list will be seeing. Prepare yourselves folks;
nothing but dull schlock from this point onwards.
#7.
You know, one of
the most embarrassing things for some people can be having to admit that they
were wrong about something. And, hoo boy, do I need to do that right now. Back
on my ‘best of ‘76’ list, I incorrectly named Fleetwood Mac as a country act.
However, as a friend was quick to point out, and as I discovered from reading
up on them, they were, in fact, a rock band that started out as part of the
British blues movement of the late ‘60s. Yeah, how stupid does a guy have to be
that he gets a band’s entire genre wrong? Apparently this stupid. So, for that
incredibly thoughtless mistake, I offer my sincerest apologies.
Why do I bring
this up now? Well, because the next act was actually originally part of
Fleetwood Mac, not when they were starting out, but during their 1975-1987 pop
rock period. And it is yet another example of how, just because an artist is
associated with a good act, that doesn’t automatically mean their work on their
own will be good also.
#7. Trouble (Lindsey Buckingham) [45; 9; 7
weeks]
Lindsey Buckingham
was a member of Fleetwood Mac at probably their peak period of success in the
United States. And I liked pretty much all the Fleetwood Mac songs that he had
a hand in. So I don’t want to give the impression that I think the guy is
inherently bad. Even good performers put out a bad song now and then. I just
feel like this particular song is a huge disappointment given some of the
material he’s had a hand in. The sad thing is that this song was the biggest
and only top 10 hit song he would achieve during his solo career. It wouldn’t
be his only hit, as he’d have one more with ‘Go Insane’ in 1984, which reached
#23 on Billboard. And I honestly don’t understand what other people would’ve
seen in it.
So, what’s the
premise of the song? Well, it’s kind of hard to say; the song has very few
lyrics and the ones it does have are terribly vague. The first half of the
first verse suggests that it’s about a man having fun away from his woman, or
that he just doesn’t want to stay up too late for the evening messing around
with this person he’s with. However, the rest of the lyrics just paint the
whole thing as so tame and lame that it’s kind of hard to see what ‘trouble’
the guy is in exactly. Why can’t you stay up late with this woman? Are you
afraid you might actually make it to second base? Are you desperate to get home
so you don’t miss a football game or something? Will this girl evaporate if you
say out too late? The only thing he indicates to show that he actually probably
should leave is during the chorus, which consists of two lines, one of which is
repeated: “I should run on the double/I think I’m in trouble/I think I’m in
trouble.” That’s all you get as far as the details.
“But,” some of you
are probably thinking, “surely the lyrics can be overlooked if the music is
good, right? Considering this guy had a hand in Fleetwood Mac’s white album,
‘Rumors,’ ‘Tusk,’ ‘Mirage’ and ‘Tango In the Night,’ surely he’ll bring that
same level of quality to this song too, right?” Well, sadly I can’t say he
does. In fact, I feel like the music may be the most disappointing part of it,
just because it’s so lackluster. It’s just hokey, unimpressive guitar work
married to by-the-numbers drum work and topped off with shaky, powerless
background vocals. Hell, even the guitar solo in the middle of the song isn’t
enough to salvage it because it’s too thin and airy to carry anything! And then
there’s Lindsey Buckingham’s voice itself, which sounds terribly stiff and
lifeless. The guy sounds like he’s suffocating from lack of oxygen! However, by
far the most disappointing thing about this song is that it’s just not that
memorable. The melodies aren’t catchy in the slightest; they don’t stick in the
brain. I guarantee that pretty much the moment you stop listening to this song
you will completely forget how it goes almost immediately afterwards.
Lindsey Buckingham
was just better off with Fleetwood Mac than he was by himself. If his solo work
is any indication, I would have to conclude that the guy just wasn’t able to
stretch his talents far enough to cover all the bases he needed covering. Maybe
his solo work doesn’t reflect the full range of his talents, but boy does it do
nothing to indicate that he just wasn’t meant to be a solo performer.
Fortunately, though he left Fleetwood Mac for a while, he has since returned to
them and continues to make good music with them today. So, if I were to suggest
any of Lindsey Buckingham’s material, I’d say do yourselves a favor; stick to
the stuff he did with Fleetwood Mac.
#6.
As is generally
the case with UK acts, they tend to be a lot bigger in the UK than they ever
manage to get in the US. So, I’d like to introduce you to one Cliff Richard.
The man was viewed as the UK’s equivalent to Elvis Presley, but only ever got a
handful of hits in the US. Some might say that that’s because the US just isn’t
as open to foreign acts, though even during the British Invasion in the ‘60s he
didn’t really see a lot of success. In fact, it wasn’t even until around this
time that he would manage much consistent chart success.
Although I kind of
get why he didn’t really catch on in the US at first. In terms of his style, he
was basically following the same formulas of other acts at the time. When he
started out, he was trying to be Elvis Presley, and after that he just became
another boring doo-wop performer. And then the ‘70s happened, and he went into
his Christian rock phase, which…yeah, the genre did not suit the guy. So by the
‘80s, he had basically transformed into Donny Osmond. And considering he was a
grown man, that’s a hell of a low point to reach. And I’m not sure how much
further the guy could have sunk than this.
#6. Daddy’s Home (Cliff Richard) [--; 23; 8
weeks]
Now, I’ve given
mixed signals about this in the past, but I just want to make the point that I
have nothing against slower songs. I like plenty of soft rock songs, so long as
they’re executed well. This, unfortunately, is not such a case. Interestingly
enough, this isn’t actually originally a Cliff Richard song, but a song by the
American doo-wop group Shep and the Limelites. In fairness to the Cliff Richard
cover, it’s not like this was a great song to begin with. That said, there is
still a world of difference between the two versions of the song.
The version done
by Shep and the Limelites has a much more mature tone to it. And it should; the
song is addressing the narrator’s love. It’s a song pretty much reassuring her
that the narrator has returned to her, and that he’s not going anywhere. Its
message is simple and direct. And the vocals match that, sounding like they’re
addressing someone on the same page as the narrator. And there’s even a slight
air of desperation in the singer’s tone. Unfortunately, where the song really
falls on its face is in the tempo, which drags to the point that the listener
would practically fall asleep sitting through it. However, the music does at
least stay engaging enough that that shouldn’t happen to the average listener.
There is also still emotional heft to the song and, I dare say, even a sort of
charm to the original; I can’t really find it in me to hate on it.
Sadly, whatever
charm was present in the original version of the song is completely absent in
Cliff Richard’s cover version. Cliff sounds completely checked out on this
song; he doesn’t sound like he has any emotional investment in the scenario
he’s presenting at all. On top of that, the tempo is really not much better
than it is on the original version of the song, and whatever engaging elements
were on the original are also missing from this version. While the original
only had a slight chance of the listener falling asleep, I feel like the Cliff
Richard version would even put an insomniac to sleep. Earlier in this review, I
said that there was a distinct difference between ‘uninteresting’ and ‘boring,’
and this falls flat on its ass into that second category. I feel like the song
is sapping my enthusiasm and joy away every time I hear it, and this is
supposed to be a sappy, uplifting song. Instead, it’s just so slow and
saccharine it’s precious. Not ‘precious’ as in being of significant value or
being important to me, but in the mocking, condescending sense, like “Well,
aren’t you just precious? Yes you are, yes you are, yes you are.”
This is just a
slog of a song that I can’t imagine anyone going out of their way to listen to.
It’s easily one of the most boring songs to come from this year. I can easily
see why this was the last song Cliff Richard would have charting in the top 40
in the US, and by 1984 he wasn’t having any songs chart in the US at all. I
guess we just came to realize the guy really wasn’t all that interesting. And
it’s a good thing we did too, because he wouldn’t exactly be getting much
better. In fact, you remember the song ‘From a Distance,’ from my ‘worst of
1991’ list? Yeah, Cliff Richard went on to do a cover of that song in the early
‘90s. So, I guess the song wasn’t inaccurate; ‘daddy’ certainly has gone home,
home to the UK, where he needs to stay.
#5.
For some ‘70s
bands, there was a bit of a struggle transitioning into the new decade. This
was certainly the case with the funk and disco acts, especially with the
backlash against these genres at the end of the ‘70s. Some disco songs managed
to surface in the early ‘80s, but by this point, disco was pretty much done and
wouldn’t surface again in the mainstream until around the 2010s. That said, I
did end up liking a few of the funk songs that managed to sneak onto the charts
from this year. They managed to breathe some excitement and intrigue into an
otherwise mostly not very engaging year.
Sadly, I’m not
going to be talking about any of those acts right now, or even about funk or
disco for that matter. No, the ‘70s act I’m about to name below is actually a
rock band. I just couldn’t think of any clever way to transition into this
entry.
#5. Abracadabra (The Steve Miller Band) [9;
1; 19 weeks]
As I said, most of
the songs on this list fall into the category of ‘uninteresting,’ and this song
is a textbook example of such. There’s just so little going on in this song
it’s incredible. And I’m afraid I can say much the same about the band that
performed it. I know next to nothing about the Steve Miller Band, and that’s
kind of surprising because they’ve had three number one hits. Three. And yet I
couldn’t tell you the slightest detail about this band. They don’t have a distinct
sound, they don’t have distinct vocals, they don’t have distinct lyrics;
they’re just kind of a generic rock band. Yeah, I know they released songs like
‘The Joker’ and ‘Take the Money and Run’ that people know and remember, but
outside of a few songs, the band really didn’t distinguish themselves from
other, better acts from the time, like Fleetwood Mac. And it really doesn’t
help that they ended up releasing a song as uninspired and generic as this.
What about this
song makes me describe it as generic and uninspired? Well, let’s start by
looking at the lyrics. These have got to be some of the blandest, most
predictable lyrics I’ve heard in a song. I mean, the first four lines go like
this:
I heat up, I can’t cool down
You got me spinnin’ ‘round and ‘round
‘Round and ‘round and ‘round it goes
Where it stops nobody knows
Also, do they rhyme ‘name’ with
‘flame’? Yes. Do they rhyme ‘desire’ with ‘fire,’ and then rhyme that with
‘higher’? Yes. Do they rhyme ‘sigh’ with ‘cry’? Yes. Do they rhyme ‘lace’ with
‘face’? Yes. And the chorus doesn’t help matters, containing a grand total of
nine different words in it, one of which is repeated, and stuttered, to take up
most of the hook.
Speaking
of the hook, let’s talk about the vocals on this song. This is a problem I’ve
noticed on quite a few of the Steve Miller Band’s songs, but their vocals tend
to sound too aloof and distant to really connect with the song. I guess it
makes sense with the whole magic theme, but it probably would have worked a bit
better if they’d actually done stuff with that theme instead of cramming it all
into the chorus. Also, this is supposed to be a song about a woman that,
presumably, really gets the guy going, turns him on, heats him up, that kind of
thing. And yet, the vocals can’t hope to give the song that kind of sexy vibe
that it would need to redeem it. They’re just flat and monotonous all
throughout the song. And it’s especially bad on the chorus, which presents some
of the saddest melodies I’ve heard in a song in recent memory. The band sounds
half asleep when they harmonize on this song. For a song called ‘Abracadabra,’
there certainly seems to be a lot of flare and pizzazz missing here.
Honestly,
I cannot think of any reason why anyone would want to listen to this band, this
song especially. Also, apparently I’m not the only one lacking in knowledge on
this song, because everyone I’ve asked about the Steve Miller Band has, at
best, stated that they’ve heard of the band but little else. Like I said, maybe
they would recognize the group if they heard one of their big songs, but even
then they wouldn’t remember it because of the band themselves. It’s pretty
depressing when the most positive thing one hears about a band is that they
exist. But honestly, I feel like the Steve Miller Band only barely did even
that; they’re just a dull, uninteresting band that made dull, uninteresting
music like this. Let’s hope that, for their next magic act, they make
themselves disappear, because this is little more than a waste of time.
#4.
Okay, I realize
this next song, and even a few of my previous lists will likely not help to
prove this, but I honestly do not have anything against Chicago. I mean, okay,
I’m as annoyed as most people likely are that they chose to sell out in the ‘80s,
but they did have some good songs in them prior to that point. I’ve heard them
referred to as ‘the Nickelback of the ‘80s,’ but I feel like that’s not a fair
comparison. Nickelback never had a ‘good’ period, and have always been
universally hated. Chicago, on the other hand, started out promising and had
the potential to be a decent band until the ‘80s. Hell, even taking their
material from the ‘80s into account, I haven’t had reason to hate this band. I
had reason to hate Peter Cetera once he went solo; I don’t think I’ll ever be
able to forgive him for ‘Glory Of Love,’ but I never had any beef with Chicago.
So, I hope you
will keep that in mind when I list this next song, because it is probably the
song most people will point to as being the exact moment when they gave up on
this band.
#4. Hard To Say I’m Sorry (Chicago) [10; 1;
18 weeks]
I’ll likely need
to apologize for this, since I’m sure there are people out there that actually
like this song. And, to be fair, I don’t blame you for liking it. If nothing
else, it has a very catchy melody, and catchiness is something that can redeem
a song. Hell, I’ve given songs a pass for being catchy previously, even if the
songs themselves might have been unimpressive otherwise. And catchiness is
probably one of the most important elements of a pop song; if it’s something
the audience can sing along to, and will likely be drawn back to listening to
because they recognize it, then the song has served its purpose. So, I will say
that much in this song’s favor; it gets one point for that.
Now that we’ve
gotten that out of the way, it’s time to talk about everything about this song
that sucks. First of all, let’s start with the instrumentation. Chicago were at
their best when they did a good job balancing between their instruments and
horn section. This song doesn’t really do that at all, watering everything down
and flattening it all into this fuzzy, soft rock slurry that doesn’t do
anything to drive the song at all. In fact, the main instrument driving the
track is the piano. That’s not a bad thing necessarily; a piano can do many
things to move a song forward. However, this one is just so lackluster and
unimpressive it’s actually kind of sad. This song is dying for better
instrumentals, and yet it was saddled with this.
Next, let’s look
at the vocal performance, courtesy of Peter Cetera. The man’s vocal performance
is nothing really that impressive. I don’t know what vocal effect he’s using on
his voice, but it makes it sound kind of inhuman; it sounds like a machine is
producing those vocals. It’s not quite as bad as his performance on ‘Glory Of
Love,’ but boy is it still obnoxious to listen to. And once again, we have
incredibly weak harmonies here. In all fairness, the vocal harmonies are better
than those on ‘Abracadabra,’ but these don’t really serve any purpose; they
don’t add anything; they’re just musical fluff.
And the lyrics he
chose to use don’t help matters either. “Even lovers need a holiday?” “Couldn’t
stand to be kept away just for the day from your body?” “Wouldn’t want to be
swept away, far away from the one that I love?” Who talks like this? These have
to be some of the least romantically invested lines he could have come up with.
“Oh baby, I couldn’t stand to be kept away from your body. I don’t care about
the rest of you, just your body.” Its corniness even pervades the title of the
song. “It’s hard for me to say I’m sorry?” Why is it hard for you to say you’re
sorry, Cetera? I can’t think of any reason why you’d be struggling with an
apology outside of the possibility that you’re kind of a douche bag. Either
that, or you have speech issues, and unfortunately, that second one doesn’t
seem to be the case, ‘cause your words are coming in loud and clear.
Again though, I
really don’t want people to think that I hate Chicago, or this song, just for
the sake of hating them. I think they had potential as a band; I think they
could have been good. It’s just a shame that they devolved into this by the
time the ‘80s rolled around. Instead of being viewed as a pretty good rock band
recognized for its use of horns, it’s just remembered as another dull,
unimaginative ballad-performing group that didn’t bring anything new to the
table. I don’t know whom you think is going to be the lucky one, Cetera, but it
most certainly isn’t me, considering I had to sit through this schlock.
#3.
And I thought
people would be mad at me for including Chicago on this list…
#3. Jack & Diane (John Cougar) [7; 1; 17
weeks]
Okay, look; I
realize that a lot of people like this song. I get that people will likely not
be happy with me for including it on this list, especially this high. However,
maybe this is just me, but I have gotten sick to death of this song. Back at
this old job I worked at a few years go, I would hear this song on the radio
constantly. I’m not saying that’s why I hate it, but it had a bit of an uphill
battle to fight to get me to like it. There were songs I’ve heard almost
constantly at work that I wasn’t bothered by, but this was not one of them. Why
is that though? What do I hate so much about this song in particular?
Well, there are a
couple of things about this song that bother me, so let’s start with probably
the biggest problem that hits me right in the face every time I hear this song:
the melodies. This is a problem for me regarding both the instrumental and
vocal melodies, but they sound incomplete. The instrumental intro starts out
with a few guitar chords, but then everything drops out and you just hear a
single note being played. It feels like they started writing that segment but
couldn’t figure out how to do so, so they just said, “Screw it, we’ll just play
what we have and hope the audience is satisfied with that.” And the singing
isn’t much better, when John Cougar is even trying to sing. I know he went on
to perform ‘R.O.C.K. In the U.S.A.’ four years later, so I know he’s able to
sing fine, but here it doesn’t even sound like he’s trying to sing half the
time. He starts out a vocal melody, but then cuts it out and just goes spoken
word every other line, and on this awkward rhythm that makes his speech sound
unnatural. From what I can tell, John Cougar, or rather John Mellencamp as he’s
known now, was kind of a Bob Dylan wannabe, and that’s really reflected in his
vocals, especially on this song, where his vocals are so scratchy he sounds
like he’s singing off key.
But wait, what
about the lyrics? Surely those should be enough to save the song, right? Well,
the problem is, I don’t really get what the message is that the song’s trying
to convey. And from what I can tell, the song doesn’t really get its own
message either. I mean, the song starts out with a story about two American
kids named, as the title says, Jack and Diane. The two are the traditional
American young person couple: Jack’s going to be a football star and Diane is
going to lose her virginity to Jack in the backseat of his car. Apparently,
John Mellencamp originally wanted Jack to be an African-American, but the
record label said ‘No,’ because they wanted it to be marketable to a wider
audience and interracial relationships were still not accepted in American
society yet. They spend time together eating chili dogs and having sex. Jack
wants to move to the city, but Diane says he isn’t missing much. Pretty
straightforward description of a couple of American kids, and even the bridge
of the song seems to connect to this story, particularly the “Hold onto sixteen
as long as you can/Changes come around real soon/Make us women and men.” That
seems like a very solid message, and it ties into the story he’s telling.
However, the problem comes from the chorus, where the message being conveyed
is, “Oh yeah life goes on/Long after the thrill of living is gone.” How does
that tie into the story Mellencamp was telling? Jack and Diane hadn’t even yet
reached adulthood, let alone the point in their lives where the thrill of
living would be gone. So why would they need to be concerned about life
continuing after they’d lost the thrill of living? They’re still experiencing
the thrill of living, aren’t they? A chorus is supposed to be the thesis
statement of a song, and this one just doesn’t seem to tie into the story being
told at all. Also, it doesn’t help matters that Mellencamp is just a really
clumsy storyteller. Like, the story he tells is like a hodge podge of random
clips in the characters’ lives that feel like they were clumsily cobbled
together to tell this barely functioning non-story of a song.
In an interview
with Creem Magazine, John Mellencamp stated about his album ‘American Fool,’
the album that this song was featured on, “To be real honest, there’s three
good songs on that record, and the rest is just sort of filler.” I don’t know
which three songs he was referring to when he stated that, but if you ask me,
this was not one of them. You could make the defense that this was still fairly
early on in his career and he was still starting out. The thing is, this song
was off of his fifth album. Most artists have found out the sound they want to
make by the time they reach their fifth album. This? Well, I’ll at least say
this much: the song sounds like something Bob Dylan almost wrote, and probably
still should have. If you like this song, fine, continue listening to it, enjoy
it. Just don’t go playing it to me because I don’t want to hear it.
#2.
Remember ‘#SELFIE’
from two years ago? If you don’t, well, I’m honestly not surprised. It was only
barely a hit; it just scraped the bottom of the top 20 and didn’t even place on
the year-end hot 100 for 2014. And you can clearly tell why it didn’t catch on with
the general public if you listen to it. I realize what it was trying to do; it
was deliberately trying to annoy the audience by tossing a bunch of club girl
clichés at them over a purposefully obnoxious dance beat. The thing is, just
because something is done intentionally doesn’t automatically make it good.
Besides, even as far as comedic songs about those particular subject matters,
there were much better ones out by that point. Hell, if people were in such
desperate need of music making fun of trashy party girls and obnoxious club
dance music, well, we already had Kesha, so we really didn’t need ‘#SELFIE’.
But, believe it or
not, there was actually a precursor to that song that came out back in 1982.
That song was written by Frank Zappa and his daughter Moon Unit Zappa, and was
called ‘Valley Girl.’ That song is hilarious, and unlike ‘#SELFIE,’ was
actually a pretty decent song. That’s not the song I’m about to talk about,
however. No, the one I’m talking about is also distressingly similar to ‘#SELFIE,’
and is also about on the same level of badness.
#2. Take Off (Bob & Doug McKenzie) [--;
16; 9 weeks]
I realize that
saying Canada doesn’t produce good music is kind of overdone at this point, and
not really true. Not every bit of music that spawns from Canada is necessarily
bad. Drake, for example, has produced good music. As have Avril Lavigne, the
Barenaked Ladies and Corey Hart. I don’t think everything from Canada is
inherently bad; Canada has produced good music. Lord in heaven, though, is this
not an example of such. Honestly, I don’t think the Canadian government needed
to apologize for Bryan Adams, or for Nickelback, or for Justin Bieber; they
needed to apologize for this, or at least SCTV needed to apologize for it.
Anyway, let me try
to explain the conceit behind this sad excuse of a song. Bob and Doug McKenzie
were actually fictional characters played by Canadian actors Dave Thomas and
Rick Moranis. No seriously, one of the guys behind this piece of crap is Rick
fucking Moranis. Apparently, these two were originally part of a panel called
‘Great White North,’ or as it was originally known, ‘Kanadian Korner,’ a sketch
conceived by SCTV when they moved to the CBC television network. The difference
in time for commercials meant that each episode was two minutes longer than
those in the US, so the network heads asked the show’s producers to add two
minutes worth of content that was identifiably ‘Canadian content.’ And after
wracking their brains, what did they come up with to take up that two minutes
worth of time? A smorgasbord of insulting Canadian stereotypes crammed into two
fictional, drunken meatheads. I’m not even a native to the country and I feel
shame for all the Canadians out there that had to sit through this. To all my
Canadian readers out there, I offer my sincerest apology for you having to sit
through this, because…well, you deserve an apology from someone, you know?
And at the peak of
their popularity, they produced an album called ‘The Great White North,’ and a
film called ‘Strange Brew.’ I haven’t actually seen the film, but considering
the content that these two came up with in the span of two minutes, I can’t
imagine they would’ve been any funnier taking up the span of a feature-length
film. Anyway, this song was actually their biggest, and to date only hit song.
And honestly, I don’t get why this song…well, forgive the pun, but took off
with the general public. It’s just a pair of unfunny doofuses making asses out
of themselves while some guy in the background occasionally bursts into song.
No really, that’s seriously all that this song is. They don’t even speak within
a rhyme scheme or within a meter or anything; they’re just spouting nonsense
and selling it as music. And the thing is, the singer isn’t really even all
that good on this song. The singer’s actually Geddy Lee of the band Rush, and
boy is he ever at his worst on this song. He sounds like he’s straining his
vocals and struggling to stay on pitch whenever he performs the chorus.
I can’t be the
only one hearing this and feeling like I’m bearing witness to the Canadian
equivalent to black face, can I? God, I just feel dirty listening to this! Even
Tom Green’s output is more dignified than this! At least Tom Green was
accomplishing his goal when he annoyed the shit out of anyone that crossed his
path! At least he came up with, you know, rhymes and stuff! Yeah, they were
stupid rhymes, but at least they were rhymes! At least he could claim that his
music was music! Rick Moranis, Dave Thomas, Geddy Lee, everyone else involved with
this song, shame on all of you! Shame on you for painting this horrible
stereotype about your own country! Shame on you for inflicting this upon both
Canada and the United States! And probably the most relevantly, shame on you
for making this fucking thing that we’re supposed to regard as music! And yet,
despite all of this, there was still one song worse than this one. What could
it possibly be? Let’s take a look.
#1.
With some one-hit
wonders, there’s an impression that they deserved to have more than one hit.
The artists themselves were either better than their one hit would suggest or
their one hit was just that good. There are plenty of acts like this: Amy
Winehouse, the Gorillaz, Gotye, Estelle…I guess you could throw Janelle Monae
on there too; a feature still counts, right? However, either because of poor
management, poor promotion or other reasons, these artists don’t end up seeing
the same level of success they achieved with that one song again. And that’s a
shame because the mainstream could have used more music and influence from
artists like these.
However, other
one-hit wonders are rightly dismissed as flashes in the pan that were only good
for one song, or maybe not even that. These acts were likely dismissed for good
reason, either because they were one-trick ponies or because they just weren’t
very good. The act I’m going to be listing next falls into the latter category,
and hoo boy is this one a doozy, folks. See, this isn’t just a bad song; it’s a
song whose badness actively pisses me off. There are many kinds of things that
can piss me off about a song: lazy pretentiousness, offensive humor, terrible
messages or being a cover that shits on the original version. But this
particular song pisses me off for a different reason: this next song is
insultingly condescending. See for yourselves:
#1. I’ve Never Been To Me (Charlene) [38; 3;
14 weeks]
Charlene was an
artist originally signed to Motown—yes, that
Motown—in the early 1970s. This song was released as a single off of her
self-titled debut album in 1977, but didn’t really see a lot of success back
then. However, most unfortunately for the American public, it ended up seeing
greater success five years later, when disc jockey Scott Shannon at Tampa radio
station WRBQ-FM began playing it and receiving enough motivation to contact
Motown to let them know that it had hit potential. Jay Lasker, the label’s
president, located Charlene, who by this point had given up on the music
industry, married and moved in with an Englishman whose name evades me, and
taken a job at a sweet shop in Ilford, and invited her to resign with Motown to
facilitate the rerelease of this song. And the rerelease was apparently really
good to the song, since it peaked at #3 on Billboard.
And that would be
a very charming, heartwarming story of a woman that managed success in the face
of failure, if the song was actually any good. And it’s not, at all. I don’t
even know where to start with this song. I guess I could start with the lyrics,
which toe the line between being insufferable and being reassuring…before
falling flat on their ass into the former. Basically, the song’s about Charlene
here trying to tell the listener not to fantasize about the sweet life because
it’s not fulfilling, or at least wasn’t to her. And how does she do this? Well,
actually trying to be detailed about why the warning should be considered would
be too hard, so why don’t we just list off all the awesome things I’ve done in
my life and hope she picks it up from that. Seriously, listening through this
song is like looking through someone’s Facebook page of all the awesome stuff
they’ve done in their life. And you know what? That isn’t reassuring, that’s
not supportive and it doesn’t make a person feel more like appreciating their
own life. All it does is make them jealous of the person who got to do all that
awesome stuff. “But what about the line at the end of the chorus,” some of you
might be asking, “Doesn’t that seem to do a good job justifying everything else
about the song?” Yeah, about that, every iteration of the chorus ends with the
exact same line, “I’ve never been to me.” That statement is just stupid, and it
doesn’t make any sense. So, you’ve never been to yourself? I guess what it’s
supposed to mean is that, although she’s been to paradise she’s never found
self-satisfaction or inner peace, but there were much better ways she could
have said that.
And all of this
could have been overlooked if Charlene’s vocal performance was any good to make
up for it. Instead, what we get is a woman that sounds so high that she has no
fucks to give about anything. I mean, listen to her voice on this song! That’s
not reassuring, that’s not supportive; that’s the voice of someone that inhaled
too much aerosol from spray paint cans and thinks that what they’re saying is
deep. And that is not helped at all by her spoken bridge near the end of the
song. In it, she claims that paradise is a lie people tell themselves to make
the people and places they see seem more like how they wished they were. And
she says that ‘truth’ is the baby the woman she’s supposed to be talking to is
supposedly holding in her arms, and the man she argued with that morning and
would likely be fucking later that night. And oh wow, I can already hear Jaden
Smith weeping about how ‘deep’ this is.
This song suffers
from the same problem as ‘Stand By Your Man;’ it’s trying to present itself as
a wise moral lesson for the audience, but instead it just comes across as sappy
and dumb. It’s the sort of thing I’d expect Twilight moms to listen to and find
relatable. If paradise were a real place, I certainly hope this song wouldn’t
be playing there. There you have it folks: ‘I’ve Never Been To Me’ by Charlene:
my pick for the worst hit song of 1982.
