#1 -- "Kokomo" -- The Beach Boys

#2 -- "I Want Your Sex" -- George Michael

(1987, #2)

We now know better. George Michael -- that stubbly dandy with those short shorts, white gloves, shiny earrings, moussed-up hair etc. -- is gay. And that's OK -- we understand why he hid it. Why shatter your standing with your predominantly female audience?

The affront here isn't the front Michael put on -- it's that he used this song to do it (hypocrisy is fine with me as long as the music's good.) "I Want Your Sex" -- with it's racy-yet-SFW video -- was his homage to monogamous sex during the heart of the AIDS crisis. You can be with one person, the song wants to say, and still be sexy. An honorable goal, and you would think that Michael could put the goods on tape. Instead of something sexy and sensuous, we get a farting synth bass, a clutter of percussion, a cliche keyboard patch Prince had discarded around Controversy and Michael trying to sound rough and tumble...

There's things that you guess
And things that you know
There's boys you can trust
And girls that you don't

Not sure what means -- maybe Michael will explain...

There's little things you hide
And little things that you show
Sometimes you think you're gonna get it
But you don't and that's just the way it goes

Hmmm. Guess not. Michael keeps it nice and vague until he launches his platitude salvo in a sing-songy voice right out of a playground game of "Red Rover."

Sex is natural
Sex is good
Not everybody does it
But everybody should
Sex is natural
Sex is fun
Sex is best when it's...

(And here Michael finally goes through puberty)

One...on...One!

Oh, I see. Michael gives the nice, vague soft sale, then gets down to business, only to pull the rug out at the end -- yes, it's sensual and habitual (?) and natural -- but only with a single partner. Like a wife, or husband, or boyfriend or, I don't know, the guy in the next stall. Isn't it romantic?


Fun Fact: On American Top 40, radio host Casey Kasem refused to say the title on the air. He would announce the artist -- and then play the song.

#4 -- "Ghostbusters" - Ray Parker Jr

#5 -- "My Sharona" -- The Knack

#6 -- "Time of the Season" -- The Zombies

#7 -- "Material Girl" -- Madonna

(1985, #2)

(Imagine a meeting between songwriter Peter Brown ("Do You Wanna Get Funky With Me?") and the driving members behind uber-disco masterminds Chic, including producer Nile Rodgers, guitarist Bernard Edwards and drummer Tony Thompson, responsible for such grooves as "Le Freak," "Good Times" and "Dance Dance Dance.")

Peter: Hey Nile, got your call, what's up?

Nile: Thanks for coming, Peter. Listen -- we've got this hot new singer, she's burning up the dance charts and she needs a hot song. Really hot. A song that'll define her for years...

Peter: No problem -- we'll write up somethin' smokin' for her, like a Cheryl Lynn jam or maybe a Donna Summer...

Bernard: Wait a second. Nile, you didn't tell him the girl was white, did you?

Nile scratches his head and stares at the ground. Peter Brown punches him in the eye.


And with that, these four masters of funk wrote and recorded the tracks for "Material Girl," a dance song with absolutely no funk to it. Straight, square, on-the-beat and mechanical, "Material's" tracks sound like they were programmed on a Commodore 64 by a young, masturbating Paul Allen. Madonna's patented nasal squawk ("Some boys hug me, some boys kiss me, I think that's OK") doesn't help matters. Overall, the song sounds like what would come out of a toy doll after you pull the string on the back ("I am a material girl! Math is hard!")

Fun Fact: Reportedly, Madonna hates the fact that she was labeled "The Material Girl" for many years. Hey, it's not like you were going to get your nickname from "Like a Virgin..."

#8 -- "Blame it on the Rain" - Milli Vanilli

(1989, #1)

We're not going to recount the tragicomic career of Milli Vanilli. We'll just say this -- for those who actually did the singing and playing on "Blame it on the Rain," is that something you really want to take credit for? I'd be leaving this one of the ol' resume...

Producer: So, you're a studio singer. What have you done that I would know?
Singer: You've heard of Milli Vanilli?
Producer: Get out. (Throws cell phone at singer's head.)

Fun Fact: "Blame" was written by Diane Warren, the pen behind such massive hits as Starship's "Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now," Chicago's "Look Away" and pretty much anything by Celine Dion.

#9 -- "Africa" -- Toto

(1982, #1)

Some bands were born to be mild. Toto is one of those bands. Their members played with artists that read like a Who's Who of 70s MOR rock/pop -- Seals and Croft! Steely Dan! Boz Scaggs! Sonny and frickin' Cher! Safe and slick, Toto was best described by Rolling Stone critic David Fricke: "Every bit as bland as its name, Toto neither excites nor offends. In rock & roll, that's definitely the dreariest sin."

All sins aside, Toto was huge for about 3 years, climaxing with their 1982 album Toto IV (even their album titles bore) which launched two massive hits: "Rosanna" and "Africa." The latter, a love song to...someone...um...well, maybe the lyrics have some clues:

The wild dogs cry out in the night
As they grow restless longing for some solitary company
I know that I must do what's right
As sure as Kilimanjaro rises like Olympus above the Serengeti
I seek to cure what's deep inside, frightened of this thing that I've become...

Forget for a moment that singer David Paich pronounces the mountain "Kilimanjairo" -- what does this all mean? Is this a guy on safari who misses his woman? What exactly is "solitary company?" And when he gets to the chorus and sings, "I bless the rains down in Africa" my brain is left in the fetal position. It's all imagery and no substance.

So, of course, it goes straight to #1. And Toto, for their troubles, win six Grammys that year. That'll make your wild dogs cry out in the night.

Fun Fact: Toto is Latin for "all encompassing."

#10 -- "Pour Some Sugar on Me" -- Def Leppard

(1988, #2)

Take a throwaway Joe Elliot guitar riff and a throwaway line from the Archie's "Sugar Sugar," add some 80s patented synth drums, stadium reverb and vaguely sexual lyrics, put the whole package in ripped jeans and bleached hair, and...voila! You have "Pour Some Sugar on Me," Def Leppard's bombastic smash hit that still has life in commercials, ringtones and karaoke bars everywhere.

I know this is hard to believe, but "Sugar" was an afterthought for Def Leppard's 1988 album Hysteria. Producer Robert "Mutt" Lange (best known for marrying Shania Twain and recording songs until they cry 'uncle') needed a stadium rocker for the album -- something that the boys could bang their heads to but also appeal to the five women in the audience. From this basic rock necessity, "Sugar" was born -- and recorded in two weeks, which for Lange is like recording it live.

The music might be head-bangin', but the lyrics are head-shakin':

Listen, red light, yellow light, green light go
Crazy little woman in a one man show
Mirror queen, mannequin, rhythm of love
Sweet dream, saccharine, loosen up...

I like the rhyming scheme here most -- the way Elliot sings it, "saccharine" could rhyme with "margarine" or "tangerine" or "aubergine." Any of those words would have made as much sense -- although, I get it, saccharine is a substitute for sugar, much like "Sugar" is a substitute for rock.

Fun Fact: On their first attempt at recording Hysteria, the Leppards brought in noted bad composer/musician/producer/Meat Loaf enabler Jim Steinman to helm the project. Showing a moment of good taste and judgment, Mr. Steinman was let go.

Last Year's Top Ten Worst Songs Ever

I'm posting 2006's Worst Songs of All Time. A little something to whet your bad song appetite. Do not play these songs while attempting to seduce a lover, win an argument, or eat. Drinking is suggested. Enjoy!

Voting page...

...is right here. Goes live on September 4th.

A little history

This all started with Halloween.

The Dudley Manlove Quartet played their first Halloween show in 1995 at Moe's (now Neumo's) on Capitol Hill in Seattle. We wore Lone Ranger masks and sang as many Halloween-ish songs we could think of. That included "The Monster Mash," a bossa nova version of "Bela Lugosi's Dead" and the theme from "The Blob." And that was it.

After the show, we were brainstorming the subject of "scary songs." David Bowie's "Scary Monsters and Super Creeps" came up -- not a bad suggestion. Out of nowhere, one of our intrepid band-mates (and memory has lost which one) said, "You know what's really scary?"

"Muskrat Love."

He was referring to the Captain and Tennille hit (1976, #4) and he was right. Anybody can be musically creepy on purpose. Alice Cooper ain't scary. Marilyn Manson, nah. Fucking muskrats? That'll haunt your days.

And that's where the idea was born: have our fans vote for what they think are the worst songs of all time -- any era, any genre, any artist. They'd vote for a month on our website, and the band would learn the top ten worst songs and play those songs at our Halloween show. So that's what we did.

The response was overwhelming. Some people really get off on this subject. Either they have been assaulted by these songs and want a little payback, or they want to exorcise their musical demons -- namely the ones found in their record collection. Sure they can vote for "We Built This City" now, but they know that somewhere in a box lies their vinyl copy of Knee Deep in the Hoopla.

Voting starts September 4th and goes all the way through to the end of the month. Watch this blog for updates, teases, false starts, clues and other leading and misleading information.

Cheers!