We Had Joy, We Had Fun, We Had Cheesy Songs About Death

I swapped external hard drives with another music junkie here in the office last night. My drive originally had about 8500 songs on it, and when I came in this morning it was filled with about 10,000 more! Merry Christmas to me! There is probably massive duplication, and I don’t expect this will fill the early Bowie, Patti Smith, Dick Hell and acid funk gaps in my collection. Nevertheless, here are some tracks I've been listening to this morning that I haven't heard in ages:

Seasons In The Sun--Terry Jacks: I used to love this song as a kid. Now it sounds like god-awful cheese kitsch crap. Terry should have hacked and weezed his way through the chorus to make it sound like he was really just seconds from expiring. How about a heart monitor beeping in the background, and then the drone of the flat line as the song fades out? Or maybe end it more abruptly, like: "Goodbye Michelle it's hard to d...argh!.....eeeeeeeehhhhhhhhhhh."

In the Dark--Billy Squier: In seventh grade I got in a fight with John (Patrick) Lennon about who was better, Billy Squier or Rush. I loved Rush back then. Can't freaking stand them now. So John, 25 years later, I concede. Because this song ROCKS!!

Wanted Dead Or Alive--Bon Jovi: This song was huge my freshman year at State. They had a "potato bar" in the cafeteria of Hubbard Hall where you could load up baked spuds with all sorts of crap. My friend Bart dubbed this the Potato Song and would sing the following as he loaded up on bacon, chives, cheese, etc: "I'm a potato, on a clean plate I slide! I'm au gratin, don't eat me fried." Stupid, but funny. And anyway, what is the "steel horse" Bon Jovi is riding? Is he supposed to be a trucker or something? But that doesn't make sense because he says "I'm a cowboy..." Is he a future cowboy?

Hell Is For Children--Pat Benatar: Yet another campy and overwrought pop tune about a serious subject (child abuse). I close my eyes and see my sister standing on her bed with an imaginary microphone in her hand belting out this song, pointing accusingly at the mirror or wall or whatever happens to be in her room while she tosses her hair around with all the rock-n-roll passion she can muster. Wait, maybe that's Amy I'm seeing (even though she's playing tennis racquet guitar in the attached picture). Or Jodi Jager. Come to think of it, I'm pretty sure every single girl I ever dated, knew or was related to in the 80's did that same thing.