By Leica Carpo, Publisher
Sunday Inquirer Magazine

FAMILIARITY breeds contempt and with music, this is most painfully true. Here’s a short list of my all-time pet peeve “overplayed” songs in random order of disgust:

1) “Just Got Lucky” (JoBoxers) — Which I sort of liked until it became the noontime anthem of “Eat Bulaga!” (a guaranteed song killer)

2) “Macarena” (Los Del Rio) — I had a classmate named Macarena in grade school who seemed nice enough with a few odd traits. This song just reminded me of her “weird” side. The funny dance steps which were aped by everyone from 2 to 80 did not make the song any cooler.

3) “Funky Cold Medina” (Tone Loc) — I actually remember people attempting to dance “their version of the wild thing” in a few clubs in San Francisco and to this day, the memory still makes me ill.

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By Eric S. Caruncho, Staff Writer
Sunday Inquirer Magazine

AIR SUPPLY — Come What May

Air Supply — Even The Nights Are Better

Air Supply — Every Woman In The World

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By Pennie Azarcon dela Cruz, Executive Editor
Sunday Inquirer Magazine

Whom the gods wish to destroy
They first make mad with really bad songs

NO, I haven’t heard a banshee, this female spirit whose wailing, according to Irish legend, warns of a death in the family. But I’m positive that Anita Ward is a banshee. How else explain that excruciating, keening, shrieking anthem of hers, “Ring My Bell”?

That song, I’m sure, foretells of a death in every family that must have had the misfortune of hearing it. The first time I heard it, I swear all the dogs in the neighborhood suddenly whimpered in fear, tails tucked limply between their legs. For once, I was thankful human ears can’t always hear what dogs can. Well, except for “Ring My Bell,” which must have been specifically written to torture dissidents into betraying even their mothers.

Imagine a fingernail grating across a blackboard while the banshee coaxes: “You can ring my be-e-ell, ring my bell…” Since you’ve probably become catatonic after hearing these words a gazillion times, the banshee turns ballistic and orders you toward the end of the song to “ring it, ring it, ring it, oww!!!” Alright already!

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By Ruel S. De Vera, Associate Editor
Sunday Inquirer Magazine

DAMN Last Song Syndrome (LSS). It is a nefarious condition, often choosing the yuckiest song possible for you to hum all day long. It is particularly effective when you’re taking public transportation, especially when the jeepneys (check out the speeding Montalban ones) feel like discos, playing non-stop remixes of the Carpenters’ greatest hits.

But even in this day and age when heavy rotation usually gets us used to certain songs no matter how horrendous, there remain the ultimate ugly songs, songs so bad they still give us sonic nightmares, gooseflesh and sweating.

Now, there remain many songs that automatically qualify as radio terrors, such as anything by Lito Camo (”Boom-tarat-tarat” has got to be some kind of karmic retribution) or one of these unintelligible disco songs from Asian countries (”Aringkingkingking” and “Dayang Dayang” prove that some things are better off left local). But there are international hits that just cry out for billboard euthanasia. Here are the worst three offenders:

1) “Love Hurts” by Nazareth: Hearing this song always makes me feel like it’s 1978 and the workmen next door are taking a break while listening to the radio. Maybe it’s the fact that the singer sounds like he’s going through a case of hemorrhoids, a case even worse than that of Michael Bolton (who deserves a category all to himself), or maybe it’s the fact that the song has like four words you can understand (”Love hurts love hurts”) and everything else is gibberish, but man this is a horrific song. It’s so bad that nobody has successfully remade it. Some things are beyond the powers of P.Diddy.

2) “The Coconut Nut” by Smoky Mountain: I realize that Smoky Mountain (the first version with Geneva, James, Jeffrey and Tony) is an important group and this song is written by Ryan Cayabyab. But not only is the song silly, its rhythmic progression makes it unforgettable (”The coco fruit/of the coco tree”). Remember the group’s grass-inspired outfits? Ugh. It’s enough to make you swear off this product of the coco palm family.

3) “Big Girls Don’t Cry” by Fergie: First of all, let me clarify that I think the Black Eyed Peas are really good and that Fergie has really good pipes among other good things. But I believe her strength lies in the hip-hop fusion dance element that she does so well (”Pick It Up” is sonic pop corn and even though it’s really slutty, “London Bridge” was really accomplished as a piece of ear cotton candy). But The Dutchess’ anthem to keeping it all in is all wrong. Its acoustic nature saps it of any originality and, oh my, those lyrics are really, really stupid. “I’m gonna miss you like a child misses their blanket?” Seriously? And that video, with the hat and the stool and the contrived intimacy? It makes you feel like you got dumber just by watching it.

For another look at music and the good folk who make them, check out the May 18 issue of the Sunday Inquirer Magazine.