You know what I hate? Ok, who said just about everything? You’re right, but still, shut your trap.
Today’s heaping helping of go die in a fire is directed at what results when so-called musicians take perfectly acceptable songs and do horrible, unspeakable things to them. For example, have a listen to what some no-talent penis muffin named Karl wolfdidtoToto’s Africa.
Seriously,what the hell? Che che che cha che che oooo!? That’s your hook? It was annoying before I heard it the first time,and now that it’s passed through my brain about 10 or 12 times with all the grace and ease of passing a watermelon through the penis, it’s gotten significantly worse.
And what the hell’s up with that guy who sounds vaguely like what I picture the Jamaican version of Cookie Monster sounding like? Does he serve any purpose other than to drag things down to depths not considered possible when the idea of ruining a song was first hatched?
“Ok, we’re totally on to something here. The morons are gonna like so eat this up!”
“But there’s something missing. we need something, someone to put it over the top. Anybody can fuck up something that a real recording artist worked hard on, but if we’re going to send this baby into the stratosphere of douchebaggery, we need to work a little harder.”
“Wait, I’ve got it! What if we hired a cartoon and had it do some halfassed reggae!?”
“That’s perfect! It’ll piss off the classic rock fans and probably make a few reggae people angry too. You’re a fuckin’ genius!”
My research tells me that in this case, C is not for cookie, but rather for Culture, a Canadian Reggae artist. My research also tells me that culture has something to do with bacteria, a fact that seems more than worth mentioning in this case.
And of course, there’s the matter ofthe lyrics.What does anything in the verses have to do with Africa exactly? So far as I can tell, it’s a poorly written song about a girl with what appears to be the chorus from the old song thrown in because Wolf couldn’t be bothered to come up with something of his own. doesn’t get much lazier than that.
There’s far too much of that going on in today’s music. It was cool in its own lame way for a little while in the 80’s and early 90’s as a novelty thing, but it’s been over done for the better part of the last 15 years. There needs to be a rule stating that you’re not allowed to release a single like this until you’ve written at least 27 decent songs of your own. Why 27? Just because, or in other words, I don’t need a good reason, just like the dipshits who keep deficating all over my earspace with this kind of crap.
I’d like to end things on a positive note by giving props to whoever transcribed the lyrics I linked. You, my friend, made my day brighter. I’ve never seen anybody try to write out a scat break before.
Doobara, doobara, doobra, doobara, doobara, Doobara, doobara, doobaba, boorr, boobaba, Dodo, dood, adooro, orooda, dooroo, dobara Doobara doobara doobara baabaabaa
Awesome. But what’s even more awesome is that whoever this is wrote that whole thing out,but didn’t even take a stab at trying to figure out what the Culture guy was babbling about. Fantastic.