Tag Archive for lyrics

Do the Who Now?

So I’m walking down the hall at work and I hear the custodians are listening to some shitty pop/hip-hop radio station again. (It’s usually that or country, so I tend to steer clear of their work zones.) I tend to tune it out, but the name Helen Keller jumped out at me.

Did I hear that right? I wondered. Sure enough:

“Shush girl, shut your lips. Do the Helen Keller and talk with your hips.”

I thought maybe it was a joke, so I punched it into Google and found the complete lyrics to the song “Don’t Trust Me” by the band 3OH!3. The Helen Keller? Really, guys? I guess nothing screams sexy like a deaf, dumb and blind woman.

Shotei to the face! Eat it, Ike!

Shotei to the face! How's that one taste, Ike?

I guess nothing screams sexy! like a deaf, dumb and blind woman.

Why no props for Anne Sullivan? If it weren’t for Ms Sullivan, Helen Keller would have been the Crazy Cat Lady from the Simpsons, only with worse aim.

About Mike Oliveri

Mike Oliveri is a writer, martial artist, cigar aficionado, motorcyclist, and family man, but not necessarily in that order. He is currently hard at work on the werewolf noir series The Pack for Evileye Books.

Gimme a Theme Song (or Three)

Driving home at 3am last night, it occurred to me that I need a theme song (which you’d already know if you follow my Twitter feed). In fact, everyone should have one. Something to at once provide a jolt of energy and convey mood to all those around us. Something without lyrics, that would explain itself in the beat, the pitch, and the tone. It worked for Peter Griffin, right?

It occurred to me, then, that we actually need three. Well, at least three, but I feel these three, if written correctly, can be adapted to just about any situation we might encounter. They are as follows:

Walking

Speaks for itself, yes? To follow the Squirt’s example, why walk when you can strut? Why stand when you can dance? I sure as hell am not going to do it without music, so why not have something blaring away as I stroll down the street? I heard Flogging Molly’s “Requiem for a Dying Song” on Sirius last night and it’s damn close; strip out the lyrics and place close attention during the chorus and you’ll feel it.

To be done right, it would need a variety of beats. Something while standing and waiting at the DMV. Something to soothe one in the security line at the airport. Something to make one’s way through a crowd to.

Something to drive to! Someone on the radio said no car should be driven without the theme to Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure blaring from the radio. Not bad, if perhaps a little over the top. Along the same line, consider the theme to The Simpsons.

You can’t tell me Danny Elfman wouldn’t be perfect to pen this one for us.

Fighting

When that pinhead from the next cubicle steals the last donut from the break room, it’s time to cue up the Fight Music. It should also be good for everything from unbridled road rage to the controlled power of a sparring match, from pushing that last rep into the air or punching through that last lap. It gets the blood pumping and keeps it that way, fueling fight and flight alike. Pantera’s “Cowboys from Hell” works, but it’s way too obvious. Mötley Crüe’s “Kickstart My Heart” works in the gym, but it’s too cheery for life-and-death situations or when you just need to beat some poor bastard’s face in for pinching your girl’s arse.

It needs to be mean and offensive. It needs to shock the enemy. Thus I give you Metallica’s cover of Anti-Nowhere League’s “So What” (most certainly not safe for work).

“But wait, Mike!” you might be saying. “It has lyrics!”

To that I say “so what?” Rules were meant to be broken.

Deal.

Loving

I was tempted to label this one fucking, but according to the Wife, that’s not an appropriate term for all bedroom entanglements. Thus this one is the trickiest of the three, as it has to cover those tender Barry White/Marvin Gaye moments and those times you go so fast and so hard you think your nut is going to blast her through the bedroom wall.

Want metal? I suggest Judas Priest’s “Turbo Lover”. It works. Even after you remember Rob Halford is gay halfway through the song (and the lovin’). Trust me. If you were thinking “Lick It Up”, I will queue up my Fight Music right now. Although John is probably going to recommend “Swallow That Load” (do I really need to warn you this link is not safe for work?), which I will allow just to see the hilarity that ensues.

Our conundrum here is lyrics. If the song is going to tell us what to do, then we may as well watch pr0n. “Pause it, honey! I’m not there yet!” Not quite my thing. Or hers. Not to mention if I asked her to try some of the things on the Internet, she’d have me castrated. The old ’70s Disco tracks are lame and cliche, so they’re out, and I don’t want to hear what I’m fairly certain came out of the automatic mode on a $50 synthesizer in the ’80s stuff, either. (Jesus, why do I even know this?)

So once again we have to recruit someone to pen us something that alternates from wild to wonderful to fit the varying cadences of carnal desire.

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Les Claypool. Jam that bass for us, my brother.

There Is No Number Four

Crying music came to mind. You know, sad stuff.

Bah, I say. Leave that one for the chicks to figure out for themselves. They can recruit Barbra Streisand and Neil Diamond and pass around the tissue boxes at their Pampered Chef parties. If you’re a dude and something’s about to get you crying, cue up your Fight Music and knock that wuss crap down deep.

Or at least use it to conceal the way you’re blubbering like a little girl because you just watched Tommy’s father die at the baseball game in last season’s finale of Rescue Me. (Yeah, that’s right, cried! Don’t make me cue up my Fight Music again!)

In Conclusion

I have more time on my hands than I thought.

About Mike Oliveri

Mike Oliveri is a writer, martial artist, cigar aficionado, motorcyclist, and family man, but not necessarily in that order. He is currently hard at work on the werewolf noir series The Pack for Evileye Books.

Smells Like What Now?

When I first heard Kid Rock’s “So Hott”, the opening chords really caught my attention. I was in the car, and after a few seconds I reached down and turned up the radio. The intro rolled on for a while, and I got pumped up waiting for the song to really kick in.

Then the first line came: “You’ve got a body like the Devil and you smell like sex.”

Body like the Devil? Really? The first thing I thought of was St. Wolfgang and the Devil:

St Wolfgang and the Devil

Now that just screams sexy, doesn’t it? Especially that ass.

Sadly, the song just goes dowhill from there. If you read through the lyrics, it’s not a big leap to translate it to “I’m going to take you home, get you drunk, screw your brains out, and kick you to the curb.” I realize there are some women that may work with, but I’m not sure it’s a good tribute to the woman you love. (Maybe that’s why his darling Pammy bailed for Rick Salomon.)

As for the music, I think he took a page from the Lenny Kravitz Guide to Music: find a hook and play it over and over and over and over and over and over and over, throw in a solo, return to the hook, play over and over and over and over and over and over. Disagree? Take another listen to “Are You Gonna Go My Way” and “Bring It On” and you’ll hear it. Kid Rock’s hook is just longer.

I often make fun of pop and country stars for not writing their own material, but sometimes it would appear there’s a reason for it.

About Mike Oliveri

Mike Oliveri is a writer, martial artist, cigar aficionado, motorcyclist, and family man, but not necessarily in that order. He is currently hard at work on the werewolf noir series The Pack for Evileye Books.