Mo' Horrible Music
Apparently, “My Humps” by the Black Eyed Peas is not the worst song ever made. That particular honor goes to anything and everything Denzel Washington sings in Mo’ Better Blues, in particular the length title song about love, which is mix between spoken word, jazz, rap, and a beat poet with Tourette’s. Washington plays a talented trumpeter with ego and commitment problems, juggling two women and a band that’s beginning to resent him. There’s a lot to complain about in this movie, like the fact that neither Joie nor Spike Lee can act, or that while Lee’s over-arching filmic thesis is that white people hate black people, he seems to be proving everyone else’s point that black people hate Jews, with his consistent portrayal of them as slimy agents and managers. But all of this is secondary to the hideous, hideous music, which so distracts from everything else that you can’t distinguish the good from the bad, as if the film were an otherwise beautiful stripper with ingrown hairs and razor burn. Despite some interesting directorial flourishes, despite a strong performance by Wesley Snipes, you’ll leave the film with nothing but ringing ears and a bad taste in your mouth, like you’d just given head at a Chemical Brothers’ concert.
Since I brought it up, and since the movie has left me with nothing else to say, here’s my top five worst songs of all time.
- “My Humps” – The Black Eyed Peas. This seems like the sort of thing a rapping granny would free-style on the spot in an Adam Sandler film. And “lovely lady lumps” just sounds distasteful.
- Anything by Queen. Queen is the worst band that has ever been. One of the worst memories of my teenage years involves working in a kitchen and being forced to listen to a ‘classic rock’ station, and the crawling sensation that would creep up my spine whenever the rest of the kitchen staff would join in with “Bohemian Rhapsody”. It was like a hellish, GED opera.
- “Grillz” – Nelly featuring Paul Wall, Ali, Gipp. Several large, frightening gorillas mumble while a hooker with a tin ear makes up a hook on the spot, then forgets it by the next verse.
The Beastie Boys’ entire discography almost made the cut, but I wouldn’t want to give them any more press. Plus if I put them in the same paragraph as Nelly, he’d probably start a fight.