You definitely got it right with this one. This song makes my ears bleed.
But, since you’ve already named my pick, I’ll throw in a few more: “Cheeseburger in Paradise” and “Why Don’t We Get Drunk & Screw,” courtesy of Jimmy Buffet; and “Daddy, Please Don’t Get Drunk This Christmas,” which I’ve heard sung by John Denver (Was there someone else first, or do I have to blame it on him?).
What, no mention of “Whirly Girl” by Oxo?
The worst for me was “Dear Mr. Jesus” by Carolyn Batts (sp?). A exploitative and glurge-y song that was popular around Xmas of '87 or '88. Sung by a little girl about how her Daddy beats her and please don’t let it happen again, Mr. Jesus. Then the stinger – her Mommy beats her, too!
One of our local radio stations had the “Top 8 at 8” and EVERY SINGLE NIGHT that song would be number one. And thanks to its overwhelming positive listener response, that insured it got played plenty during the day too. (And when a song was that popular on one station, then of course the other stations had to play it relentlessly too.)
Later on, when I interned for a summer at the “Top 8 at 8” station, I found out that every single DJ who worked there despised that song and longed to come after Carolyn Batts with a baseball bat for recording it. (Fortunately, its popularity didn’t seem to last longer than that one season, so we were spared future assaults.)
Red Sovine’s “Teddy Bear”-- it’s got it all. No melody, just a sobbing voice over treacly music. Recorded in the '70s. Has a crippled kid and heroic truckers (not that they aren’t IRL). And best of all, CB slang! All combined in one syrupy sweet, heart-tugging, steaming pile.
If that doesn’t bother you, then Rod Hart’s “WTF was that?” stereotype of a gay man picking up truckers on “CB Savage” certainly will.
We built this city – Jefferson Starship.
Jesus Christ, it’s the most god awful song ever made; I get some serious Jack the Ripper urge when hear this cursed shite from Pleasantville hell. Now when I got this bad butter in my brain I won’t sleep tonight. How the m+th+rf+ck+ng hell do they dare take the expression “rock’n’roll” in their rotten lipstick mouths? Hit me hard with The Ramones now or I get out to look for somebody.
Yes, it makes me sick in my brain, I hate it. Usually I like people, but this one is like George W. Bush in your underpants, I just got to get it out before I get homicidal or suicidal or whatever it takes to get poison out of the ecological system.
Now I’m gonna shuffle on Lyndon Kwesi Johnson, Led Zeppelin, Blue Öyster Cult and whatever beating it takes to get me cool, before I hang back with Cypress Hill and perhaps Dean Martin when the sun goes up to get me smiling again.
Sorry for the rant, I got upset. Wish me luck.
Another deathless “gem” :rolleyes: from the 1960s was a piece of songcraft called Those Were The Days, My Friend by Mary somebody or other. Memory has kindly obscured her last name but not the song. It was a kind of rock polka and drinking song. We were supposed to picture a lot of people doing some serious quaffing as they sang this monstrosity. It included a chorus for the ages:
Those were the days, my friend.
We thought they’d never end.
We’d sing and dance
Forever and a day.
we’d something something ooze
We’d fight and never lose.
Those were the days. Oh, yes.
Those were the days.
This song made me yearn to hear Richard Harris sing about cakes melting in the rain or to suddenly go deaf. It’s so awful that even oldies stations rarely play it (and they have no shame, damn their blackened little souls).
MEATLOAF
most particularly “I would do anything for love (but I won’t do that)” and “Objects in the rearview mirror”
SCREEEEAAAAAAMMMMMMMM!
Does anyone else remember “The Ballad of Ben Gay” from 1973? It included such goddies as:
“You should have seen the way they looked,
Their faces all turned pale,
Each time i took my brush out
And ratted my horse’s tail.
I thought it looked just darling!”
and
“Okay fellas, play the bridge!”
[guitar plays the bridge from (IIRC) "Folsom Prison Blues]
“Not *that *kind of bridge, you silly savages–you want Ben Gay all *over *you?”
All sung in a stereotypical lisping manner.
Is that the one with the fetus singing “Why did you kill me Mommy?” Because that had the exact opposite effect on me of what was intended. I’d abort that little shit as soon as the stick turned blue.
P.W.?
What? Cannabalism?
“We Built This City” is just depressing, when you think of “White Rabbit” and “Today”. Grace should have stuck with the drugs.
While I haven’t actually heard their stuff, I’d like give an honorary nod to the work of Prussian Blue.
Mary Hopkins, with the firm backing of Paul McCartney.That should have tipped us off as to the level of pablum he’d pen in the 70’s.
OK, sports fans, I’ve got another one that wasn’t from the 70’s this time… I can’t remember the group, but the guy would sing (and I use the term loosely)“I’m a man” over and over while the woman would alternate between all of her Sybil-like roles…
I’m a man
I’m a bitch
I’m a man
I’m a tease
I’m a man
I’m a whore
I’m a man
I’m a little girl
etc… i think this was from the early 80’s.
And I haven’t seen Ebony and Ivory on the list yet. Urg.
My worst comes from that insidious, invidious, merciless and cruel subgenre of music - gym music. You know that omnipresent, pulsing soundtrack that assaults you in the on workout days you are unfortunate enough to forget your Walkperson? I don’t know the title of the song but it came courtesy of a a girl with a beach-ball hair dye job (the video clip was playing) as she screeeched
“I… hate… you… so…much…right…now… auuuuuuuugh! I… hate… you… (you get where its going)”. It gave me ear cancer there and then.
The worst song I have the actual dishonour of having paid money to own is “Wrinkles” by sometime Beach Boy Mike Love. A “boy and his dead-dog song”. Need I say more?
mm
I’m telling you: the people who are still talking about Kenny Rogers and Iron Butterfly and The White Stripes, and especially this guy:
did not click the link.
Kilvert is not paying attention-I mentioned E and I a ways back. Thanks for bringing it up, again. 
“Butterfly Kisses”–some wretched father/daughter vaguely incestous smarmy ballad from a few years ago.
“Your Kiss Is On My List” by that duo in the '80’s–I used to turn off my Walkman when that came on.
“Wildfire”
and “Mandy” as about a dog, no? I mean a real canine, not an aspersion on Barry’s taste in women (gah!).
Blech.
I’m a man
I’m a bitch
I’m a man
I’m a tease
I’m a man
I’m a whore
I’m a man
I’m a little girl
etc… i think this was from the early 80’s.
The Group was Berlin. The song’s title is Sex ( I’ma…)
“Mandy” was originally called “Brandy”, but was changed so as not to be confused with the song about the girl waiting for her sailorman to return from the sea (which is his life and his lady, sorry Brandy).
If Barry had his way, I’m sure he would have retitled the song “Randy”.
Some actual lyrics :
Timothy, Timothy, Joe was looking at you
Timothy, Timothy, God what did we do?
…
My stomach was full as it could be
And nobody ever got around
To finding Tiimothy
The music is bad but not horrible; about all it does is confirm that this is meant to be a narrative song, not a joke. And it’s catchy enough to get stuck in your head.
I think Lil’ Markie is in the running, but I almost burst out laughing when he started singing, so whether he intended to or not, he provided entertainment in his brief lifespan.
“Don’t Worry, Be Happy”
I … I can’t go on … the retching reflex is to great …
For years, most people flatly refused to believe this was a song about cannabalism. They tried to convince themselves and others that Timothy was either a duck or a mule (it was a mine after all). Rupert Holmes said he had been approached to write an outrageous, possibly controversial song for the then new band, The Bouys.
It worked. The song went to #17. The group had a minor follow up that didn’t make the Top 40. They quickly vanished from the charts. Timothy’s revenge from the grave?
The grave? Or the outhouse?
Good point!