From 1983’s Synchronicity. This may be the worst song of the 80’s. I dislike this song so much that I’ve permanently deleted it (twice, in fact, it re-appeared magically) from my iTunes collection. I believe Zebra striped man from Heavy Metal Parking Lot said it best, “…it belongs on fucking mars, man!” I’m not sure what the meaning of this song and it’s strange lyrics are getting at, nor do I care to find out. But I will say this. There’s a reason why singers (in this case, bass players) hog the microphone and why they are overprotective of their position and this is one of them. The song is basically just Andy Summers screaming on top of a swirling synth, a rogue china cymbal and some kind of middle eastern instrument. It’s possible that this song was meant to be a jab at their peers, many of whom experimented with off-time noises collages. It could also be a joke. I’m hoping it is. Not my favorite Police record by any means, but it has it’s moments. This song is not one of them.

Originally appeared on their 1985 “PMRC Sucks” 12”. Hard to believe somebody paid to put this on vinyl. No matter how you look at it, this was a weird artistic and business decision. It’s a cover song of “Voices Carry” by Til Tuesday, but with the lyrics and tempo changed. For example, “When I tell her that I’m falling down drunk….”. The humor (if that was their intention) is totally lost here. I get the punk bands covering goofy songs thing – it was par for the course now as it still is today. But this is neither goofy or well done. It’s just shit. Makes me wonder if they paid Til Tuesday any royalties. I hope they did. It’s heartbreaking to think about all of the bands that could not afford to release their own records in the 80’s, bands that broke up and gave up and who now lingering forever in obscurity because of lack of money. I say that because there are five pressings of this piece of crap out there floating around. Also: Aimee Mann rules. I wonder what she thought of this record.

The video above is a live version, but there is a studio version. Not sure where this track originates, but it appears as a bonus track on the remastered version of Murmur or Reckoning. One of those. Anyway hearing Michael Stipe try to hold this together you may find your muscles contracting in pain. The arrangement is fine, but the breathy vocal take is too much. Way too much. Leave Henry Mancini alone, guys. Staff writer Matthew Berlyant loves all things R.E.M., so hopefully he doesn’t mail me ricin after this criticism.

From 1969’s double LP Ummagumma, which is kind of a mystery in itself. One LP is a live set, the other is a studio set that could best be described as uninspired. The song was recorded by Roger Waters by himself with no other Floyd-men present as an improv studio jam. He used double tracked vocals and a tape loop to speed up and slow down his vocal layer, and then added an additional layer, a spoken “poetic monologue”, which is really just Waters talking in an over-the-top Scottish accent. According to Peter Mew, Roger’s vocals are inspired by (or a parody of) poet Robert Burns. The song is pure gibberish, a rambling descent into terribleness. Supposedly it contains backwards messages, but I’ve never been bored enough (or deranged enough) to try to find them. The weird thing about Ummagumma is that Floyd had actual finished songs that they could have recorded on the studio side (bootlegs have proven this) but for some reason they opted not to use any of them. FYI – A pict, if you’re wondering, is a slang expression used by the English to describe their Celtic brethren north of Hadrian’s Wall.

The last song on 1986’s November Coming Fire LP is a dud. This LP is pretty decent (better than 1984’s Initium by several hundred miles) but still the recording leaves a lot to be desired. This song just doesn’t fit in with the others if you ask me. Namely because Glenn Danzig starts the song by screaming “Giddyap” and the rhythm section is totally lazy and thrown together. Plus half way through the song, there are weird chanting vocals that don’t even synch with Eerie Von, who is basically playing one note for practically five minutes. Also: Am I crazy or is this song about a half-human female girl with the body of a pony? If she is a human with a horse body, wouldn’t that make her a centaur? What is that called? Can Ponies be centaurs? If it’s a pony with a female human face that would be creepy. Judging by the lyrics, Glenn is able to “ride” this creature (his words, not mine) so I’m going to assume it’s a pony centaur that happens to be a also be a hot metal chick.

From 1973’s Houses of The Holy. I think the title is a typo – they should have called it “The Cringe”, because that’s what I do everytime it comes on. It’s a haphazard, misdirected number that really sticks out like a sore thumb on this LP. Sounds like the theme song to a bad 70’s porno. Bad Jimmy Page.

From 1969’s The Soft Parade. Somebody goofed. I really like this LP although it’s widely known that it was the straw that broke the camel’s back for Morrison and Manzarek. The recording was mired in difficulties and was stretched out months past it’s due date, mainly because of all of the orchestra accompaniments and other accoutrements. The banjo and vocals by Robby on the choruses are just unbearable. If you’re interested in hearing what this record sounds like without the orchestras and horns, try to find “Soft Parade Stripped” online because it’s really worth checking out. In 2009, some blogger armed with the surround stereo recordings and a multi-track took out all of the other instruments. I think it’s a huge improvement over the original, mainly because I don’t agree with the band’s artistic decision to “thicken up their sound” using extras from The Lawrence Welk show. The bad news is that the banjo shows up on both versions of the record.

From their 1976’s masterpiece, Destroyer. Written by Stan Penridge when he was in Chelsea (not the UK punk band, the NY proto-glam band) with Peter Criss. Originally called “Beck” but later changed by the band. Amazingly, Simmons and Stanley did not want this song on Destroyer because it didn’t fit in with the overall theme of the record and it was added at the last minute. I just can’t stomach it – the vocal delivery is strained and too cheesy. If I was a 10 year old girl in 1977 I might love this song, but thankfully we live in a day and age when even the possibility of this happening is far fetched. Even at the height of my Kiss obsession (roughly age 12/13) I hated this song. For some reason this is Kiss’ highest charting single in the US. It is sentimental slush. If you believe that Kiss practiced late into the night “to find their sound”, I’ve got a bridge in Brooklyn to sell you. Every piece of literary analysis of this era (often written by the band themselves) indicates that they barely spoke to one another, let alone hung out all night. Unless of course we’re talking about Peter and Ace, who WERE up all night, only they weren’t practicing. No, they were trying to score heroin or shooting at poor people from limousines.

From 1983’s Piece of Mind, which is so close to perfect it hurts. This song though, this song about cave men finding fire is just so poorly conceived. It pains me to say it, but this song is just bad. The opening lyric (try to contain your laughter) is: “At a time when dinosaurs walked the Earth”. Ugh. Dickinson and Harris are usually over-inspired, so this song remains a mystery in the Maiden canon. The lyrics are based on a 1981 French film of the same name by Jean-Jacques Annaud. To the best of my knowledge it was only played a handful of times in 1983 and 1984 before it was dropped from the set list permanently.

From 1980’s Sandinista! I happen to love this four record set, although the last disc is kind of a hodge podge of exhausted ideas and other nonsense. This is a five minute dub jam, not unlike other Clash free form jams from this era. I’m not sure why it bothers me, I think it may be the warbly, unintelligible lyrics. This sounds like it was recorded outside UC Irvine at a hacky-sack competition. The very next song, “Silicone on Sapphire”, isn’t much better. It’s basically just a resample of the song “Sandinista” with weird computer noises and talking. My complaint with this record is really just the fourth side and admittedly I’m being petty. Because the first two sides of this collection are spotless. But still I dare you to make it all the way through this song without being annoyed.