Recently in Worst songs Category

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. 4) "Ice Ice Baby" (Vanilla Ice) -- Like Vanilla, this one became just "plain ol' irritating" because it's so cocky. 5) "Can't Touch This" (MC Hammer) -- Arghhh!! It's Hammer time and no matter how "bad" the lyrics are, you just can't help but sing it… It's disturbing because it sticks in your head no matter how much you try to shake it loose. 6) "The Ketchup Song (Asereje)" (Las Ketchup) -- How can three mildly attractive girls sing a song that hurtles to global fame then crashes and is now the equivalent of baduy? Deejays actually shudder when this song is requested at weddings. 7) "Why" (Annie Lennox) -- This was a decent song until my mom made a 90-minute tape of it and played it every day for months every time we got in the car. Now I hear it and feel car sick. 8) Any song by Rick Astley -- the surefire dance floor filler -- overplayed to death and all blending into each other that I can't recall any of them. It's a feared collective. I'm stopping now before I start to recall all my horrible experimentations in karaoke -- but that's another story which could possibly be even nastier than this one. For another look at music and the good folk who make them, check out the May 18 issue of the Sunday Inquirer Magazine.

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 Air Supply -- Here I Am (Just When I Thought I Was Over You) Air Supply -- I Can Wait Forever Air Supply -- Just As I Am Air Supply -- Lost In Love Air Supply -- Now And Forever Air Supply -- The One That You Love Air Supply -- Two Less Lonely People In The World Anne Murray -- You Needed Me Billy Joel -- We Didn’t Start The Fire Bobby Vinton -- Dick and Jane Bonnie Tyler -- Holding Out For A Hero Bonnie Tyler -- Total Eclipse of the Heart Charlene -- I’ve Never Been To Me Charlie Dore -- Pilot of the Airwaves Dan Fogelberg -- Leader of the Band Dan Fogelberg -- Longer Dan Hill -- Sometimes When We Touch Dennis de Young -- Desert Moon England Dan and John Ford Coley -- It’s Sad To Belong England Dan and John Ford Coley -- Nights are Forever England Dan and John Ford Coley -- We’ll Never Have To Say Goodbye Again Europe -- The Final Countdown James Ingram -- Just Once Lionel Richie -- Lady Lobo -- Love Me For What I Am Mary MacGregor -- This Girl Mary MacGregor -- Torn Between Two Lovers Melissa Manchester -- Don’t Cry Out Loud Melissa Manchester -- Through The Eyes of Love Michael Johnson -- Bluer Than Blue Morris Albert -- Feelings Olivia Newton John -- Please Mister Please Paul Anka -- You’re Having My Baby Peter Cetera -- Glory of Love Rainbow -- Temple of the King Randy Vanwarmer -- Just When I Needed You Most Rex Smith -- You Take My Breath Away Rupert Holmes -- Terminal Rupert Holmes -- Touch and Go Starship -- Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now Starship -- We Built This City Stephen Bishop -- It Might Be You Stevie Wonder and Paul McCartney -- Ebony and Ivory Styx -- Babe Styx -- Mr. Roboto Survivor -- Eye of the Tiger Survivor -- Moment of Truth Tony Orlando and Dawn -- Knock Three Times Tony Orlando and Dawn -- Tie a Yellow Ribbon Whitney Houston -- I Will Always Love You For another look at music and the good folk who make them, check out the May 18 issue of the Sunday Inquirer Magazine.

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! Just as annoying because really, haven't we got enough Lito Camo songs with which to prove that we truly deserve Willie Revillame? Why oh why do we have to listen to Shirley Ellis' "The Name Game," like we don’t already hate our baptismal name without having to make a stupid repetitive song out of it. Imagine, just imagine how this song, a favorite during acquaintance parties, can prod a shy adolescent to slash her wrist because for crying out loud, her name is Eufrasia: "bee-bo Eufrasia, banana pana Eufrasia…" Of course if you've ever heard me sing, you're probably thinking I'm the last person who should bellyache about bad songs. Well, yeah. But at least I only sing in the shower, probably annihilating all the molds, mildew and toilet bowl fungi before Miriam makes an example of them. I don't go around imposing my vocals on persistent winos who have taken up residence in karaoke bars. Which brings us to "My Way," easily voted the most murderous music around. How many drunks have deep-sixed each other while grappling for the mike for a chance to brutalize this song? How many bar brawls have been provoked by the stampede to the CR, where everyone rushes to upchuck their sisig everytime this song is played? Finally, I just hate rap and disco. Okay, so I was born a square. Still, think of how I'm doing humanity a favor by sparing music lovers my version of "Push, Push in the Bush," Rick Dees' "Disco Duck" and Donna Summer's "Love to Love You, Baby!" while thrusting my humps, my humps, my lovely lady lumps like there isn't enough shame in the world already. For another look at music and the good folk who make them, check out the May 18 issue of the Sunday Inquirer Magazine.

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.