It's Not Your Attitude, It's the Music

The other day my best friend since the 6th Grade, Swarm and I were having a heart to heart – a manly discussion if you will – and he told me that I have this negative aura about myself that seems to bring others down around me. My initial reaction was to say, “Fuck you, man. How can you say such things when the terrible world we live in makes me who I am? You don’t see how the fact that people in general suck ass upsets my emotional stability just a tad bit? I realize there’s no point to this negative tirade of cynical anger, but what the fuck!?” The words almost came out of my mouth but I stopped only due to the fact that I schooled Swarm’s ass in basketball wearing a pair of snow boots during Sixth Grade Camp, and I didn’t want to lower his self-esteem for a second time.

Now, being a person who is always in pursuit of self improvement, I took a step back from the situation and thought long and hard about what Swarm said. After much reflection and meditation over a delicious Taco Bell Crunch Wrap, it occurred to me that I can be rather negative at times. Come to think of it, I do tend to have negative outlook about people and just about everything else (read blogs below). There’s also this tendency to wish to get into an all out brawl with those I loathe most only to see them get chopped up by an airplane propeller like on Indiana Jones. In the past I have been referred to as a Negative Nancy, a Debbie Downer, a Bitter Betty, and a Cynical Cindy. Never a Depressed Debra though……

So, after much thought and self loathing, I realized I have been living life with a pretty piss poor attitude. I mean why go through life looking at the glass as half empty? “Man the fuck up and fill that bitch up,” is what I should be telling myself. There’s really nothing to get down on about because let’s face it, I’m pretty much all around awesome with the exception of my lack of coordination which keeps me from playing most types of ball sports. I live in a house at a location that would make Garth Algar from Wayne’s World say, “This is a fully functional babe lair. Chicks are helpless against it’s powers.” Did I mention my awesomeness?

Well there I was all excited and inspired about becoming a Positive Polly and then it happened: I turned on the radio. I casually turned on the radio while driving home and once again I lost all faith in humanity. The cynicism I hoped to exorcise flowed through my veins and once again that damned glass was half empty. I even went back to viewing babies as selfish egomaniacs who are life’s ultimate Socialists. I mean seriously, all they do is lie around all day waiting for their hand-outs, various bail out plans of infantile proportions, while the rest of us hard working Americans slave away for these toddlers’ Marxist desires. If that right there isn’t redistribution of wealth in its purest and ugliest form than I don’t know what is. Take note Rush Limbaugh…..

Now, what songs have soured me over time you ask? Ha. Well seeing how the 90’s were the pinnacle of musical greatness I would blame my current attitude on a lot of the garbage that came out in the 2000s. But, considering I could write an entire novel about shitty music from the past nine years and how it destroyed my sense of hope and wonder, I’m just going to focus on the most recent songs that killed my hour and a half of positive thinking. Shall we?


Plain White T’s – “1, 2, 3, 4”

We all know Plain White T’s. You know, those slightly emo guys with the poppy twist who sing that Delilah song with the reference to New York City and being famous and what have you. Well, if you haven’t heard their newest single “1, 2, 3, 4” consider yourself hella blessed. That’s right. I busted out hella despite the fact that nobody says that anymore. That’s how fucking serious I am about letting you all know how this song raped and pillaged my soul’s village of Optimism like a horde of rampaging Vikings in search of valuable loot, buxom women, and the Northwest Passage.

To make you all understand how bad “1, 2, 3, 4” is, I’ll put it this way: it’s my favorite song next to “Small Child Screaming on Plane During the Duration of an 8 Hour Flight.” It makes Limp Bizkit’s 2000 single “Rollin” look like Beethoven inspired genius. I thought I’d never say anything good about Limp Bizkit but low and behold, you can find the good in anything when you are graced by something that is all out bad. Serious, the song is pure cheesy super lame assed shit. There is no redeeming quality about this song. No artistic substance or creative expression. Shit. A stanza of the ridiculously over the top sappy ass lyrics are below:

There’s only
ONE thing
Two do
Three words
Four you (mind you this “you” is drawn out to be yooouuuuuoooooowooooowoooooo”)
I love you

That’s the chorus to the song ladies and gentlemen and no it is not creative. It is sappy and annoying and I cringed just typing those lines. It looks like something you would find on one of those Disney themed cardboard Valentine’s Day cards you used to get in grade school. I fucking loved those – when I was 9 – but it doesn’t mean as an adult I want them in musical form while I drive home from a bad day at work.

Someone needs to check these guys for plagiarism because I’m pretty sure they ripped this song off from some pre-pubescent 7th grader who wrote it for his 8th grade girlfriend who upon receiving the song/poem broke up with the kid and called him a fag. The Plain White T’s found the song in the trash after the poor kid threw it away so he could go home to lick the emotional scars that will never heal because we never forget the first girl to rip our hearts out and beat it relentlessly with a crow bar covered in glass and bee stingers. Damn you, Megan! Damn you!!!!!

Wait, where was I again? Right. Cheese dick Plain White T’s song.

I know some of you out there are going to try and come to the rescue of this horrid excuse for music by coming out and saying something like, “Quit sipping on the Hatorade, Faheem. You’re just jealous because you never wrote about Delilah and they did and now they’re famous and married and living happily ever after with a white picket fence and a house mortgage they can’t afford.” Face the facts here. This song blows. Yet somehow it gets air time which in turn fuels my cynicism and as a result this negative energy cloud Hurricane Katrinas everything around me (too soon?). Its just impossible for me to emote positive energy wave lengths into the cosmos with the existence of this song. Sigh…….

Okay, moving on.


Flo Rida – “Right Round”

The “artist” behind this monstrosity of a song calls himself Flo Rida? Are you fucking serious? Was “The Continuously Smooth Passenger” already taken? Do you think he wanted to be called Flow Rider but there was already an 80’s hair band with the name? R we even teachin lil kidz to spel theez dayz? Okay I’m digressing. I’m sure Flo Rida is a guy of outstanding moral character, a thespian and a Shakespearean poet, who only uses the moniker to appeal to the urban market he could never really relate to.

Now, to his abortion of a track.

Not to try and sound all proper and puritanical – as you can tell by my use of colorful language I’m absolutely neither – but the blatant sexual reference in this “work of art” are just a little too much, which to me, shows a complete lack of artistic creativity. You want to be considered an artist don’t you, Flo Rida?

You spin my head right round, right round
When you go down, when you go down down

Come on, dude. What the hell happened to subtlety or innuendo for that matter? Musicians like Prince were the masters of this art form. I mean don’t get me wrong, Prince was, and is, an absolute pervert but he also displayed his mastery of innuendo in songs like his outstanding 1983 single “Little Red Corvette.” If you don’t know what “Little Red Corvette” means then ask your parents. Or maybe a pervert….

See the issue here is that before you know it, radio play will be reserved for uncreative and unoriginal music that goes into highly descriptive sexual detail because lets face it, its really easy to do. Here’s something my inner artist just came up with:

Give me a blow job
Because I like blow jobs
Bliggidy blingin’ blow jobs

While I have no qualms with blow jobs, you don’t need to blatantly sing about them – in your fucking chorus – so all the children can hear it as they ride the bus home from school. It’s just down right inappropriate. Think of the children, Flo Rida. The Obama loving socialist children!

While the lack of innuendo certainly brings on my inner Debbie Downer, the thing that irks me the most about this song is the fact that it samples and subsequently butchers an amazing 80’s classic – Dead or Alive’s “You Spin Me Round.” It was bad enough that Jessica Simpson chiseled away at this song’s reputation but now this ass clown straight up nuked it. Why must we destroy everything thing that was once great?

Flo Rida mixed “You Spin Me Round” and fucked it up. George Lucas redid Star Wars and fucked it up. Brett Michaels redid Rock of Love and fucked it up only to fuck it up again (Taya over Mindy are you serious?). I mean is there really any point to having a positive outlook on life when shit like this goes down? Before you know it we’ll redo the great feats America accomplished during World War II, in movie format, by turning an infamous day into a sappy uninspired love story. Like . . . Michael Bay’s . . . . . . Pearl Harbor . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Fuck!


Lady Gaga

Where the hell did Lady Gaga come from? Seriously. Did she materialize out of various beats and jams, Sephora makeup, and Chinese food? Did she come from the mountains of Southeast Trickistan? Work sends me to a far off terrible place – a topic I will not delve into due to fear of “The Man” – for 4 months and when I come back she’s one of the most played musicians on the radio. I know I started this thing off just attacking songs but I had to write Lady Gaga because she has like 14 different songs that play on the radio, and at the club, every 15 minutes. Or maybe its two songs but whatever….

Now, the negativity brought out by Lady Gaga is different than the disgust towards the world I feel after the other two songs mentioned earlier because I don’t really hate the music, rather, I hate what the music makes me do, how it takes control. You see, when Lady Gaga starts playing on the radio my white 2006 Nissan Sentra that hasn’t been washed in months goes from a simple means of transportation to the flyest club in all the land – Club Sentra. I ignore the road. I ignore public safety laws. I even ignore common sensibility because all I seem to do is bust a move and get my freak on with the steering wheel. The usually solo dance party that ensues in my car goes beyond ridiculous. It’s dangerous!

What am I supposed to tell the police when I go into a Lady Gaga induced dance seizure while driving and end up running over an expecting mother and her adorable cat Boots who she happened to be walking at the time? Just roll with me here. Do I tell them, “But Lady Gaga was on the radio and I couldn’t stop dancing . . .”? And what do I tell the parents? “Sorry, you’re not going to be grandparents, but that new Lady Gaga track is the shiznit! Just Dance! Am I right? Come on, come on . . .” Both of these responses probably wouldn’t hold up in court and I’d end up in prison married to the guy with the most cigarettes. If I were a lucky man he would love to cuddle . . . .



So after all that’s been said it is obvious that my attitude is not the problem. The problem is the garbage they play on the radio that inadvertently influences my attitude into something that others don’t want to be around. You should have just told me not to listen to the radio, Swarm. But no, you threw me into the wild world we live acting like I have complete control over my attitude. What is that?

If you still aren’t convinced that bad music has a detrimental effect on how you view life then just do one more thing and read the lines directly below this:

Po po po poker face
Po po poker face!
Three words
Four Youoooooowoooooowooooooo
When you go down
When you go down down

You just turned a little sour didn’t you? I’m so right about everything.