Wednesday, October 5, 2011

This Time. I'm Losin' My Mind, This Time: Inaugural Installment

You can't lie to me. I won't believe you.

You're not special, and you can't pretend it doesn't happen. You can't sit there and tell me that, at least once a day, some garbage song doesn't, for no apparent reason, wind up planted in your dome. It happens to us all, and because I don't live inside your brain, I've begun to feel like lately, that it happens more often to me.

With that, I give you the latest feature of irregular publication: "This Time. I Losin' My Mind, This Time" wherein we'll take a quick look at the random ditties that seeped out of memory vault the previous week.

A few notes first, though: a) This is a fascinating phenomenon, and I challenge you to get all psychoanalytic on yourself and figure out how songs get into your head, and how much variation there is between songs regarding duration within your melon (and by God, if you come up with a good tactic for evacuating them, please share). b) Songs that you hear, sing, see, or say do not count. c) Not all songs that pop into your head suck, but on the whole it seems that most of them do.

5. "Subdivisions" by Rush

Rush has to have one of the strangest followings around. I mean, most hard-core Rush fans are pretty goofy dudes, are they not? You know: There's that sort of stuck-in-a-time-warp, loneristic aspect to them. I'm not judging. Hell, I think Rush kicks all the ass. You know what kicks all the all the ass, though? Geddy Lee's mullet in that video.

4. "Lightnin' Strikes" by Lou Christie

In 1980 my mom and her sister Suzi bought matching Toyota Corollas. My aunt lived with us at the time, and so these things were parked side-by-side in our driveway. There were two primary differences between the two: My aunt's was silver on the outside with a black interior, while my mom's had an orange exterior, was beige on the inside.

More importantly, my mom's had only AM radio. My mom also had this car for about eight years, which meant that for most of a decade, Oldies 71 WHB was hammered day and night into my brain. I like the oldies. Don't get me wrong. It's just that 30 years later, I don't need Lou Christie screaming between my ears at random moments of my day.

3. "So Long, Farewell" from the The Sound of Music soundtrack

I don't really have much to say about this one. It's a touch embarrassing, and I can't for the life of me figure out how it got there.

All I know is that I was washing my hair and bam! -- there it was, at like five o'clock in the morning. Really? It's not even light out and the friggin' Von Trapp family's waltzing around in my noggin. At least let a guy get a cup of coffee first. I haven't even watched that movie in like 20 years. Stupid brain.

Make no mistake, though. I'd go musical/soundtrack all day and night if it kept me safe from the likes of number two:

2. "Blue Morning, Blue Day" by Foreigner

Know what's worse than Foreigner? I'll tell you: Having been a kid who at one point actually thought Foreigner was good, a kid that actually owned some Foreigner. If you're still on the fence, let me clear it up for you: Foreginer blows. Everything about them. I'm serious. I don't care if you like to jump off the dining room table while you air guitar "Jukebox Hero" or if you think the riff from "Urgent" is cool, or if you gave up the V-card to "Waiting for a Girl Like You." This band is terrible (Editor's Note: If you want to make an exception for "Star Rider," I'll hear you out.). I hear them and I want to pierce my temples with rusty shears.

That said, Foreigner is the best band in rock history when you compare them with my last week's number one:

1. "If I Had a Million Dollars" by the Barenaked Ladies

Please. I'm begging you. If you're going to click the play icon on that video, do everyone within earshot a favor first, and murder them.

Part of me was tempted to do a touch of research for each of these songs. You know, tell you what year they came out, the name of the album they were on, what kind of sales the album had, and maybe even where the song reached on the charts.

Here's what stopped me, though: It's bad enough to have a God-damned Barenaked Ladies song in your head, and it's even worse to know a few of their tracks. What's intolerable, though, is having some BNL trivia wedged in your folds for the rest of forever.

I mean, what happens if I'm drunk at a party and the opportunity arises to wax Barenaked, and I jump on it without thinking twice? That's a fall from social grace I don't think I'm equipped to handle. Plus, the thought of discussing them in public is making me throw up in my mouth a little bit.

Anyway, though. Those are last week's cuts. We'll do this again next week with this week's. See how this works? Pretty easy.