The Proclaimers

WHAT YOU KNOW THEM FOR: Great cardio.




BUT WHAT ABOUT THE REST OF THE ALBUM?

My band once opened up for The Proclaimers. No lie. Okay, technically, it was a festival, and we were on a different stage, and the Proclaimers weren’t even the headliners, Cracker was. So it’d be more accurate to say that we shared the bill with The Proclaimers, but it’s more fun to say we opened up for them.

Youngsters today might have been introduced to “I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles)” through a great running gag on How I Met Your Mother. Hipsters of the 80s might have been introduced to it from the Proclaimers performing it on David Letterman’s show in 1989. But most people from my generation were introduced to it through the 1993 film Benny & Joon. Of course, no one remembers the film itself these days, but everyone still loves these Scottish lads and their marathon endurance.

Confession: I actually owned this on cassette. I found it at a yard sale for a quarter. But I never got past listening to “500 Miles,” which is the first track. I just kept rewinding back to the beginning and rocking out again. Even listening to it now, I’m tempted to just put the song on repeat (convenience of technology, alright!). It’s that good and completely worthy of its ubiquitousness. But I will soldier on and give this album its fair shake.

“Cap In Hand” provides us more catchy Scottish folk but can’t live up to its preceding track. “Then I Met You,” though, almost rivals “500 Miles” and should’ve been a hit in its own right. But oh no! We’ve moved into a slow ballad, “My Old Friends The Blues,” which has killed all momentum this album was building. It might not be so bad a song if it appeared closer to the end of the album. I hope things pick up.

At first, “Sean” threatened to dredge, but then picks up energy and shows these guys are capable of doing a good slow ballad. A lesson not followed through on with “Sunshine On Leith.” What the fuck, guys? Enough with the ballads. Go balls out again.

Side two starts off more promising. Random thought: It’s impossible to hear a Scottish accent and not think of Mike Myers. “I’m On My Way” features more traveling for love. Was this released as a single? According to Wikipedia, it was. Naturally. They wanted to capitalize on the success of “500 Miles” with a song that hit similar lyrical themes. Except it was released 5 years before “500 Miles” finally became a hit. But it was used on the Shrek soundtrack, so maybe they were hoping to replicate the belated success.

Back to ballads. Ugh. Definitely not their strong point. Man, this album had such a promising start, but now, it just drags.


FINAL VERDICT: This album is the equivalent of walking 500 miles (and walking 500 more). At first, you’re optimistic about being able to complete it, but aside from a brief second wind, you spend most of the time wondering how exactly do people find Chuck Taylors comfortable.

Scatman

WHAT YOU KNOW HIM FOR: Fecal fetish.




BUT WHAT ABOUT THE REST OF THE ALBUM?

Okay, yes, this blog entry exists solely for a poop joke. Technically, Scatman John had another hit, but I bet you can’t name it without the aid of Google. So as far as I’m considered, he qualifies.

Scatman’s World is apparently a concept album about a magical place called Scatland. Which makes me wonder why it isn’t called Scatland instead? Is Scatland a country on Scatman’s World? Is this planet near Spice World?

One thing is for certain, though. This is a world dictated by two things: overwhelming positivity and scat singing. No, really. Every song follows the same formula. Verses reminiscent of those motivational speakers your school would herd into the auditorium for, followed by choruses of scat lyrics that are less embarrassing. All over generic early 90s dance beats.

Lately, I feel my blog entries have been getting too long, but this one will probably stay short. Six tracks in, and I don’t foresee any deviations that will be worth commenting on.

…

And I was right.


FINAL VERDICT: As far as dystopian futures go, Scatland isn’t the most dystopian. But I still prefer Spice World. Ginger Spice is hot.

DISHWALLA

WHAT YOU KNOW THEM FOR: Blasphemy.



Also, inspiring homophobia.




BUT WHAT ABOUT THE REST OF THE ALBUM?

Back in the 90s, suggesting that God was a female was some heavy stuff. Christians were outraged and demanded a boycott of Dishwalla, and some of them even stood outside Dishwalla concerts with torches and pitchforks. Okay, none of that happened, but those couple of lines seemed to get more attention than the music. But in all fairness, the music was that type of bland pretty boy pop that got swept under the “alternative” label because they had guitars.

And boy, were they pretty. Almost Duran Duran pretty. In fact, I think Anal Cunt might be onto something. I feel myself going gay for Dishwalla (although it’s been proven to be a scientific impossibility that anyone could go gay for Everclear).

Rewatching the video, I think the drummer now works at the American Eagle at the Boulevard Mall. I should ask him the next time I’m at the mall. “Excuse me, weren’t you the drummer from Dishwalla?” Actually, I might just start asking that of random people at the mall.

Honestly, this music is so non-descript, I’m not sure if I like it or not. So far, I don’t love it, I doubt I’ll ever listen to this album again. But I also don’t hate it yet, I’m definitely not running to turn it off. I’m not even all that bored. It’s just kind of there.

By the time we reach the hit three tracks in, I sense a pattern. Laid back grooves with near-catatonic vocals save for shorts bursts of actual energy towards the end of the song. There doesn’t seem to be much effort in attempting to craft something memorable. Really, I think the only reason I even remember “Counting Blue Cars” is because it used to get played every hour, on the hour.

Of course, I write that, then the next track “Explode” actually attempts to rock (and mostly succeeds). I remember that at the time, I thought Dishwalla’s follow-up single “Charlie Brown’s Parents” was better than “Counting Blue Cars,” and that still remains the case.

And then we’re back to the not rocking wah-wah guitars. I don’t know if I’ve ever heard a band abuse the wah-wah pedal as much as these guys. Then back to rocking then back to not then back again. Are these guys a good band or not? They somehow simultaneously rock and suck. Which I guess makes their music sort of complicated, except it’s really just kind of simple. Man, I am so existentially freaking out right now.


FUN/NOT FUN FACT: “Miss Emma Peel” is about one of the main characters of the old British TV show The Avengers. Dishwalla was actually featured on the soundtrack to the movie adaptation, but not with that song. I never saw the movie, despite the promise of Uma Thurman in a skin-tight leather catsuit. But I had the issue of Playboy that featured paparazzi photos of Uma on a topless beach. This issue greatly angered Nicholas Cage, who wrote a very stern letter to the magazine.


FINAL VERDICT: Don’t worry about what those bullies in Anal Cunt think. Listening to Dishwalla will not make you gay. It will, however, enter you into a state of limbo where things neither are nor aren’t.

THE REMBRANDTS

WHAT YOU KNOW THEM FOR: Letting you know that you’re in for 23 minutes of wacky hi-jinks.



BUT WHAT ABOUT THE REST OF THE ALBUM?

TV theme songs are a dying art. Some think it’s due to networks selling more ad space, causing the average length of shows to shorten. But the truth is more sinister. There is a TV theme curse. Think about it. How many artists who composed a TV theme have gone on to have a meaningful career?

The curse is so strong that it killed Chuck "Walker:Texas Ranger" Norris’ career until an Internet meme revived it. Waylon Jennings (Dukes Of Hazzard) avoided the curse by way of being Waylon Jennings. The Waitresses (Square Pegs) would’ve avoided the curse if not for collapsing under the weight of their own awesomeness. And sadly, drugs killed the Banana Splits before they could go on to become the next Beatles.

But for most, their fate is that of the Rembrandts, a fate that is worse than that of a regular one-hit wonder: spending their career known only for a 30 second jingle. Seriously, no one knows the rest of the words to the Friends theme song.

Confession. I’ve always hated Friends. But I loved How I Met Your Mother. Odd, considering that HIMYM was just Friends for the millennial generation. But hey, HIMYM had Neil fucking Patrick fucking Harris. Plus alumni from Buffy and Freaks And Geeks. What did Friends have? A monkey. And he got fired after the first season for being more charismatic than David Schwimmer.

But I promise I won’t let my hatred of Friends taint my review of The Rembrandts’ LP. I’m sure once I listen to it, I’ll find more solid reasons to hate it. Like the fact that the title isn’t nearly as clever as they think it is, for starters.

The first track is called “End Of The Beginning” and the opening chords already have me wishing it was the beginning of the end. Did people back in the 90s actually like this type of music? I mean, I was alive in the 90s and remember crap like this clogging up the VH1 airwaves, but I don’t think I ever met anyone who actually liked it. Who the hell owned Hootie & The Blowfish’s Cracked Rearview? Someone had to, right? Was it all part of some evil Communist plot? Fucking Ruskies.

Imagine if Dave Pirner was jamming with Third Eye Blind, covering all the Beatles and R.E.M. songs you hate. That would probably be more entertaining. This sounds like what your parents probably listen to. Although, I’m a parent now. Does that mean one day, he’ll say Cursive and Rise Against sound like the crap parents listen to? Well, he and his friends best keep off my lawn.

There’s a song called “Easy To Forget.” Allow me to pay The Rembrandts a compliment. They’re writing my punchlines for me. “My Own Way” sort of cribs the intro to “18 & Life,” and no one’s ever earned street cred by trying to sound like Skid Row. Maybe I’m being too harsh on The Rembrandts, but three tracks in (wait, I’m only three tracks in?! I feel like I’ve been stuck listening to this for hours. And there’s still 12 more songs to go!), and they haven’t done anything Fountains of Wayne didn’t do a billion times better.

I’m going to sleep now. Wake me up if anything interesting happens.

FINAL VERDICT: I really, really hate Friends. I understand that’s not The Rembrandts’ fault, but if you’re not part of the solution, you’re part of the problem.

Dexys Midnight Riders

WHAT YOU KNOW THEM FOR: Ejaculating on Eileen.



What? I thought “toora loora toora too rye ay” was the 80s version of “skeet skeet skeet skeet skeet.”


BUT WHAT ABOUT THE REST OF THE ALBUM?

You generally can tell that a one hit wonder’s one hit truly came out of left field when the song is found on side two of the album. In the case of Dexys Midnight Runners (it really bugs me that there’s no apostrophe in their name), “Come On Eileen” closes Too-Rye-Ay, almost as an afterthought. Although the title of the album is taken from the chorus. Maybe they came up with the title, thought it sounded really cool and quickly wrote a song to justify its use.

The album quickly hooks me in with its odd mix of Celtic folk instrumentation, soul vocals and ska horns. If I close my eyes during “Let’s Make This Precious,” I can imagine that it’s really Madness. Mostly because I’m not that familiar with Madness outside of a couple of songs. But it’s got a clap-a-pella (just handclaps and vocals, I don’t know if there really is a technical term for that) bridge, and I really enjoy those.

They cover Van Morrison’s “Jackie Wilson Said.” It’s fun and boisterous and ridiculously catchy. I’ve never heard the original. Hold on, I’m going to take a break from this album and listen to Van Morrison so I can properly compare the two.

Okay, the Runners hew closely to the original arrangement with no variations, but hey, I won’t complain. It’s an awesome song. Too bad it’s followed up by the insipid ballad “Old.” I don’t know why, but I feel like singer Kevin Rowland sounds like Hot Hot Heat trying to do soul remakes of Cure songs. Is this a good or bad thing? Is it even an accurate thing?

“Plan B” is a slightly less insipid ballad. Come on, Dexys (maybe it’s plural, as in more than one Dexy, but in that case, shouldn’t it be Dexies?). You started so strong.

Okay, I spoke too soon (a problem caused by writing these blogs stream-of-consciously as I listen to the album without taking time for proper reflection). The song’s balls drop, it starts rocking, and I’m hooked again. Did you know Dexy is a form of speed? The music’s addictive nature makes the name a good choice.

FINAL VERDICT: The band doesn’t stray too far from the sound of “Come On Eileen,” so if you like that song, you’ll like the rest of the album. And we already know you love “Come On Eileen.” So why aren’t you loving Too-Rye-Ay already?

Joe Public

WHAT YOU KNOW THEM FOR: Being Kriss Kross’ backup band.



Also, lessons in positive encouragement.




BUT WHAT ABOUT THE REST OF THE ALBUM?

One of the guys in Joe Public went to my high school. Not at the same time as me. But one of my teachers told me that. He wasn’t sure which guy, but he was pretty sure the guy’s name wasn’t Joe. This tale may have been apocryphal, but it is not my job to question my teacher’s memories. My job is to question whether or not Joe Public should be on your CD shelf. If anyone other than me still has one, that is. Another reason I hate the digital revolution. Scrolling through someone’s mp3 playlist in order to silently judge them isn’t as fun.

I’m not sure why new jack swing is all but dead as a music genre these days. Maybe Bobby Brown’s crack smoking destroyed America more than we ever realized. Or maybe people don’t need music to get laid anymore. Seriously, where are the sexy songs? The kind that get people in the mood. Sure, listening to Adele may lead to sex, but your woman will be crying the whole time. Or man. Or you. Hey, I’m not judgmental, I’m just relaying scientific facts. Someone will be crying if you try to bone while listening to Adele.

I couldn’t find a proper copy of Joe Public’s self-titled debut online, but Spotify has a compilation that collects material from both of their albums. Good enough to groove.

Opening with “Live and Learn,” this quickly lays down what new jack swing is all about. Sultry R&B grooves with hip hop beats, alternating between sly crooning and positive rapping. Track 2 is listed as “Do You Everynite,” but in the chorus, they keep singing “I’ve Been Watching,” which is the title of track 4. Track 3 is listed as “Easy Come, Easy Go,” but in the chorus, they keep singing “I Miss You,” which is the title of track 6. In the chorus of track 4, they sing “I’ve Got A Thang For You,” which is the title of a song not on this compilation. Okay, off to Wikipedia I go.

Apparently, this actually is Joe Public’s self-titled album. Spotify just mislabeled it with the tracklisting from a compilation that sort of exists. It’s kind of like those bootleg cassettes you buy from the Korean grocery store where the song listing is out of order and the artwork is backwards. Wait, did I accidentally download the Korean version of Spotify?

“This One’s For You” gives shout-outs to Jasmine Guy, MC Lyte, the Fly Girls, and Downtown Julie Brown, among others. It doesn’t get more 90s than that. And the Joe Public guys are classy enough to apologize to anyone they forgot to mention. Drake wouldn’t have the class to do that, and you’d think he learned something about class from his time on Degrassi.

Sure, nothing here rivals Bobby Brown’s oeuvre, but really can anyone rival his brand of perfection? Still, there’s grooves here to last for hours, well, technically 45 minutes, but that’s what the repeat button is for, dammit! “Do You Everynite” is basically Color Me Badd’s “I Wanna Sex You Up.” If Color Me Badd were good, that is. Oh, snap. I went there, Team CMB fangirls.


FINAL VERDICT: Former Erie County Executive Dennis Gorski pronounced April 13, 1996 to be Goo Goo Dolls Day. Yet we never received a Joe Public Day. Asshole. That’s why I never voted for you. Well, that and the fact that you stopped running for office by the time I was legal voting age.

After The Fire

WHAT YOU KNOW THEM FOR: Not being as cool as Falco.



Though, in fairness, no one is as cool as Falco.




BUT WHAT ABOUT THE REST OF THE ALBUM?

It was suggested to me that I do Falco for this blog. But I couldn’t in good conscience do so, because in addition to “Rock Me Amadeus,” he gave us “Der Kommissar.” But then I remembered that “Der Kommissar” had been covered by After The Fire. I really only knew this even existed because as a teen, there was a commercial for a best of the 80s Time Life collection. You remember those commercials? They had a scrolling list of songs included, with the current one playing highlighted in yellow. After The Earth was one of the highlighted ones, putting them in good company with Men At Work and Toto.

It’s a shame that the 21st century killed off CDs. I was really hoping for a best of the 90s Time Life collection, featuring hits by Candlebox and Positive K. Now, here’s Everclear singer Art Alexakis to tell us more about how you can order.

ATF’s version of “Der Kommissar” actually charted higher than Falco’s. Interestingly enough, ATF was a one-hit wonder in the UK but with a different song. Do they count as a one-hit wonder then? For the purpose of this blog, they do.

*NOTE: This is a compilation, as “Der Kommissar” never appeared on any of their proper albums, and I feel that reviewing just the single kind of defeats the purpose of this blog.

Holy 1980s, Batman! Right from the beginning, my senses are being assaulted by new wave synthpop blandness. I could probably forgive the laser effects and robot voice in “Laser Love” if the song had a strong melody or strong riff or strong laser effects or strong robot voice. If some Congressman had attempted to pass a bill outlawing synthesizers, “One Rule For You” and “Sometimes” provide plenty of compelling evidence to support the bill.

Interesting Wikipedia fact: ATF was supposed to perform on Top of the Pops, but the show’s producers didn’t want more than one synth-heavy act that week, so they went with Gary Numan instead. Good call.

Their cover of “Der Kommisar” benefits from being preceded by nine tracks of crap. Also, by being written by someone more talented. If I can say anything positive about this album, it’s that the music is more forgettable than painful. It’ll be scrubbed from my memory by the time I post this blog.


FINAL VERDICT: Falco is still the man.

Chumbawamba

WHAT YOU KNOW THEM FOR: Frat boy empowerment!




BUT WHAT ABOUT THE REST OF THE ALBUM?

“Tubthumping” begins with a monologue from Pete Postlethwaite’s character in the movie Brassed Off. The only two things I remember about the film are this speech and the fact that Tara Fitzgerald did not show her boobs. And the only reason I watched the movie in the first place was in the hopes that Tara Fitzgerald would show her boobs. I’m not sure why I thought it would be a possibility in the first place, but at least she showed them in Sirens, so it’s all good.

“Tubthumping” is a perfect frat boy anthem with lyrics about drinking and an easy sing-a-long chorus. They’ve probably never paid any attention to the rest of the album, hell, they probably only have it on a Jock Jams CD anyway. Yet, Chumbawamba is actually an anarcho-punk band, whose first album was titled Pictures Of Starving Children Sell Records. That fact has always made me want to check out something other than that insufferable hit, and this blog has given me an excuse to do so.

“Amnesia” has a fun riff with an okay melody. It’s not a terrible song, but I’ll probably forget it. Pun not intended. The opening drum shuffle of “Drip, Drip, Drip” made me think we were in for a cover of blink 182’s “I Miss You,” but what follows is even more insipid. Though, if Architecture In Helsinki did it, I’d probably think it was awesome. Am I hating Chumbawamba for the sake of hating Chumbawamba?

Actually, remove the pure bile that is “Tubthumping,” and you’ve got the best Architecture In Helsinki album that was recorded before Architecture In Helsinki existed. I never thought I’d be comparing Chumbawamba to one of my favorite bands in a positive light.

“The Good Ship Lifestyle” rocks and should’ve been their hit single. Damn you, Chumbawamba. I can no longer use you as a punchline for bad music. I can still use you as a punchline for bad names, though.


FINAL VERDICT: With their anarchistic leanings, Chumbawamba have publicly stated that they want you to shoplift their album. So objectively speaking, if you bought this album, you’re an idiot. But if you happen to find a record store that still stocks it, feel free to steal it. Just kidding. You won’t find any record stores out there. Download Tubthumper. Illegally. The band wants you to.

Right Said Fred

WHAT YOU KNOW THEM FOR: Dangerous levels of sexiness.





BUT WHAT ABOUT THE REST OF THE ALBUM?

Did you know that Right Said Fred aren’t actually one hit wonders? They’ve had several songs hit the charts, particularly in the UK. And Germany. They love more than just David Hasselhoff over there. Syrian president Bashar al-Assad is also a huge fan. So if you had any sort of integrity, you’d stop referring to RSF as a one hit wonder.

Luckily, I have no integrity, so let’s hit the catwalk.

The first two tracks don’t have the novelty feel of “I’m Too Sexy” and frontman Richard Fairbrass actually croons over some chillax dance beats. Does anyone say “chillax” anymore? Fuck it, I do. Then we get the slice of heaven that is “I’m Too Sexy,” which starts to feel like an anomaly when it’s followed by more crooning and sultry female backup singers.

“Is It True About Love” sounds like the type of song ravers would have sex to. I’m guessing. I’ve never had sex with a raver. When “Deeply Dippy” started, at first, I thought we were in for a cover of The Proclaimers’ “500 Miles.” It isn’t, but now I wish some dance act would cover that song. This song is hella fun, though. Does anyone say “hella” anymore? Fuck it, I do. The fact that “Deeply Dippy” wasn’t a US hit has made me lose faith in the American people.

Ditto “Don’t Talk Just Kiss,” which even the Dutch had the good sense to make a Top 10 hit. The album even ends on a catchy “la la la” singalong. I thought I was going to have to renounce my American citizenship and move out of the country once Herr Trump was elected dictator. But I might just have to do that now instead, upon seeing the unfair treatment we have given Right Said Fred.


FINAL VERDICT: I have to go pack my bags. Call me when the overdue RSF revival happens.

Edwyn Collins

WHAT HE’S KNOWN FOR: Pronouncing “protest” weirdly.





BUT WHAT ABOUT THE REST OF THE ALBUM?

In an interview for one of those VH1 specials about one-hit wonders, Edwyn Collins said something of the effect of “You wouldn’t go up to Lou Reed and ask him how it feels to be a one-hit wonder.” And I thought, “Man, what a pretentious ass to be comparing himself to Lou Reed.”

But it kind of makes sense. He was in a critically acclaimed but commercially overlooked band (Orange Juice) before scoring a sole solo hit out of left field. But the more I think about it, the more I return to my original opinion that he’s a pretentious ass.

Even if you’ve never heard a Velvet Underground song, you still know who the fuck they are. The only reason I know anything about Orange Juice is because their song “Rip It Up” inspired the title for Rip It Up And Start Again, an essential tome on the history of postpunk.

Did I use tome correctly?

According to Wikipedia, “Rip It Up” actually was a Top 40 hit in the UK. So I guess Collins is a bit of a double one-hit wonder.

The first track is titled “The Campaign For Real Rock,” which, ironically, doesn’t rock. Much like Billy Joel’s “Still Rock And Roll To Me.” That said, it’s not a bad song. It’s kind of like if Urge Overkill decided to actually be Neil Diamond rather than just cover him.

One of the biggest pains in writing this blog is that with these one-hit wonders, most of their songs sound just like their hit. But Edwyn Collins stretches out in a playfully diverse style. Neil Diamond is a lot more playfully diverse than you give him credit for. Yeah, I’ve decided Edwyn Collins is just Neil Diamond re-incarnated. Even though Ol’ Neil isn’t dead yet.

“If You Could Love Me” gives me some Tom Jones-style chills. Okay, maybe Collins was actually created in a lab, spliced from the DNA of Diamond and Jones. What I’m saying is this guy is probably getting laid a lot. Hell, my panties have already dropped and I wasn’t wearing any.

He definitely wins lyric of the year (for 1994, anyhow) with this gem from “North Of Heaven”: “Some mother’s talking about Guns N’ Roses / As if I give a fuck / At best, I think they suck.” Give the man an award. Can we go back in time and retroactively make this song a hit?

I’m not sure if Collins is ironic or sincere, but either way, he’d make a fine Vegas lounge act. And I’m not being ironic when I say I mean it as a compliment. Bring down your lady friend, have some drinks and do the Shasta McNasty when you get back to the hotel.

If Edwyn Collins ever reads this review, he’ll probably hate me. Granted, he’s got more of a David Bowie influence, and “Moron” (featuring the awesome chorus: “This music won’t take you higher unless you’re a moron”) is reminiscent of The Rolling Stones’ country phase. But I still maintain he’s the Second Coming of Neil Diamond.


FINAL VERDICT: Buy this album. It’s awesome. And Collins should take Neil Diamond onto Maury to see if he is the father.

Alien Ant Farm

WHAT YOU KNOW THEM FOR: Being white and nerdy.





BUT WHAT ABOUT THE REST OF THE ALBUM?

My band once played a show with this band, let’s call them Foolstar because that was their name. I’m not sure what I did to piss them off initially (I was quite good at that back then), and me and the singer got into a pissing contest. I delivered the death blow when they went into their cover of Nirvana’s “Aneurysm.” I yelled, “That’s the best song you’ve written!”

The point of that story is that I like telling stories about myself.

It must sting when not only are you a one-hit wonder, but that sole hit is a cover. You’re not good enough to write even one song people like. You were just good enough to learn how to play a song people like. Enter Alien Ant Farm. They managed to take the one-hit cover to a new level. They appeared on an episode of MTV Cribs, and they simply recreated an Alice In Chains skit from Headbanger’s Ball.

Yes, even their non-musical performances are covers.

There were two types of rock bands that emerged in the early 2000s: those with a DJ, and those without. Alien Ant Farm falls into the latter camp. Other than their extremely dorky look (seriously, these guys make Rivers Cuomo look like Tupac), they do nothing to separate themselves from their peers. They sound like Papa Roach (or do Papa Roach sound like them?) on their faster tracks and sound like Incubus on their slower tracks. Some faux hardcore on “Wish.”

There’s nothing inherently bad about this album. They’re good enough at what they do that I’m semi-curious to check out their later stuff to see if they’ve grown any. But I probably won’t.


FINAL VERDICT: At least they don’t touch little boys

TONI BASIL

WHAT YOU KNOW HER FOR: Cheerleaders and anal sex.





BUT WHAT ABOUT THE REST OF THE ALBUM?

What about it? I couldn’t find a complete version of Word Of Mouth online, and while I could probably piece it together from Youtube clips, honestly, it’s not worth the effort for this stupid blog. So instead, I’m going with this compilation since it includes most of the songs from that album anyway.

I appreciate that this is called a “best of” compilation rather than a “greatest hits” compilation. I always find it pretentious when one hit wonders pretend there was more to their success than just that one song.

Did you know Toni Basil had a small part in Easy Rider? She also did choreography for Talking Heads and David Bowie. I’m guessing she doesn’t cry too much over the fact that her music career never took off past “Mickey.”

It’s a shame, though. Her new wave synthpop can stand alongside the best the 80s had to offer. Okay, maybe not the very best. Maybe the 2nd or 3rd tier. At the very least, “Spacewalkin’ The Dog” should’ve been sampled by Snoop Doggy Dogg and “Shopping A to Z” should’ve been reworked for Sesame Street.

Perusing the track list, I first thought “Go For The Burn” was titled “Go For The Bum.” That would’ve been a lot better.

I dig Toni Basil, I really do. Her music is fun, bouncy, catchy, but 18 tracks of it gets a little hard to sit through. Listening to either of her albums is probably a perfect listening session, but both together (which this compilation essentially is) is overkill. Or maybe I’m just too old and hate sitting through long albums.

Did you know there’s a Spanish version of “Mickey”?


FINAL VERDICT: Toni Basil claims “Mickey” isn’t about anal sex. But ponder this. If it wasn’t, why would I lie and say it was? For comedic effect?

Rockwell

WHAT YOU KNOW HIM FOR: Nepotism and paranoia




BUT WHAT ABOUT THE REST OF THE ALBUM?

Sometimes a movie uses a well-known covered by someone younger, hipper, or more relevant. Eddie Murphy’s 2003 comedic romp The Haunted Mansion used “Somebody’s Watching Me” as covered by… Morris Day? Without The Time, no less?

Rockwell was (or is, I guess, since he’s still alive) the son of Motown’s Berry Gordy. I’m sure that in no way helped him get a record deal or convince Michael Jackson to be a guest vocalist.

Listening to this album, I’m kind of surprised Rockwell didn’t manage another hit. This is some seriously good synthpop. But other than Michael Jackson’s cameo, the album lacks a truly strong vocal hook. And he falls kind of flat on his cover of “Taxman.” Then again, George Harrison fell kind of flat on the original “Taxman.” Why do people like that song?

I could do without the awful ballad, “Knife,” but this was the 80s, and I think Reagan had passed into law a requirement that every album include an awful ballad.

FINAL VERDICT:

I think it’s time for a Rockwell revival. Someone (other than Morris Day) needs to cover his music for today’s kids. “Foreign Country” needs to be adopted by politicians to tout their foreign policies (“No Culture Club or Adam Ant” succinctly describes what’s wrong with North Korea). Write to your local congressman and ask, nay, demand, a Rockwell Appreciation Day.

Gerardo

WHAT YOU KNOW HIM FOR:



Rico motherfucking Suave! The man who eats women like sushi.


BUT WHAT ABOUT THE REST OF THE ALBUM?

From the onset, Mo’ Ritmo makes me wonder if I accidentally put on MC Skat Kat’s solo album by mistake. Paula Abdul beats with weak rapping? Could’ve fooled me. Actually, he did fool me. I hate you, Gerardo. Your name’s one letter away from being Geraldo. So strike two against you. And we’re only 30 seconds in. We’re starting off with some serious beef.

I always pictured Gerardo as the type of guy that wanted to make you dance. But the beats are so flat and static. And I forgot how clumsy his rapping was on “Rico Suave” (seriously, rhyming species with sushi?). He doesn’t redeem his skills anywhere on this album. “Hot and spicy like a tango / Come shake your mango” is probably the height of his word prowess. His version of “We Want The Funk” only highlights how unfunky he is.

Look, I’m sure all the gyrating and by-the-numbers pickup lines were a hit at the H&M he used to hang out in front of (and probably works at now). And Gerardo has probably had sex with countless white girls who wanted to piss off their parents but were too racist themselves to date a black guy. Actually, I have no positive counterpoints to offer.

I really hate Gerardo. Look, each song is bland and inoffensive on their own. But play more than two in a row, it’s the kind of torture that creates murderous rage in otherwise peaceful men. Mo’ Ritmo? More like Mo’ Gitmo. There’s an idea. Let’s use this to torture members of ISIS and gain valuable information. Come on, Gerardo. This is your chance to atone for your sins.


FINAL VERDICT

If Gerardo actually had talent, he’d probably be able to afford a shirt.

Los Del Rio

WHAT YOU KNOW THEM FOR:



That goddamn inescapable dance craze that still gets played at weddings and you can’t help yourself because it’s so ingrained into your muscle memory. Also the creepy way the two old guys ogle the girls in the music video, while imploring Macarena to (direct translation): “Give your body happiness, because your body is for giving happiness and good things.”


BUT WHAT ABOUT THE REST OF THE ALBUM?

Honestly, I wasn’t even sure which album to go for. “Macarena” appears on every single album these guys have put out, often 2 or 3 times. These guys clearly knew they were destined for one hit wonder status, and they probably didn’t want anyone picking up the wrong Los Del Rio album by mistake. That’s commendable, I think.


Fiesta Macarena is the earliest Los Del Rio album available on Spotify and contains four different versions of “Macarena,” so I guess I’ll torture myself with it.

Takes some hubris on their part not to start the album off with “Macarena.” They really expect me to sit through two songs before the only song I theoretically would care about? Well, I guess their remedy is to have the first track actually sample “Macarena.” Interestingly, the album literally alternates between flavorless club music and flavorless calypso folk. Seriously. Track 1 – club remix. Track 2 – calypso. Track 3 – club remix. Track 4 – calypso. And so on.

Halfway through the album, and I’m numb. Music, words, life itself, everything has lost meaning. I start thinking about how Los Del Rio should do the theme song for Alberto Del Rio. But it’s not funny enough of a thought to keep my sanity. When this is finally over, I begin to believe in God again.

So for those keeping score, out of 14 songs here, 4 are “Macarena,” 2 sample “Macarena,” and 3 desperately attempt to be “Macarena.” What a way to beat a dead horse. If you love “Macarena” that much, I’m sure there’s a compilation or fifty out there that includes it.

VERDICT:
Los Del Rio aren’t even worthy of the one hit they did get.

Welcome to the blog!

Ah, the one hit wonder. Those glorious songs that infect us, usually to the point of oversaturation. Then the artist gets scrubbed from our collective consciousness. But those songs tend to come with an entire album that no one listens to. Well, no more. I shall listen to those albums and see if these artists truly deserve the indifference we shower them with. Wish me luck.