Greatest Hits (an oldie)

My Favorite Lyrics

—”Way down yonder on the Chattahoochee, It gets hotter than a hootchie-kootchie.”—Alan Jackson. This line exemplifies all that is wrongheaded about country music.

—”Now in the unemployment lines, You can spend your life reading signs. Waiting for your interview, They can shoot the whole day for you.”—Tavares, It Only Takes A Minute. A 30 year-old song, but the entitlement mentality has not changed.

—”She sweat, wet, got it goin’ like a turbo ‘vette.”—Sir Mixalot (AKA Anthony Ray), Baby Got Back.

—“The people wanted more, That’s why the Hammer’s in. Oh, oh, oh; bust it.”—MC Hammer (AKA Stanley Burrell), Here Comes The Hammer. One good Negro deserves another.

—“Quick to the point, to the point no faking, I’m cooking MCs like a pound of bacon.”—Vanilla Ice (AKA Robert Van Winckle), Ice Ice Baby. One good Negr…oops, never mind. Caucasian. I think. I love the nommes de rap though.

—”Sometimes when we touch, The honesty’s too much.”—Dan Hill, Sometimes When We Touch.

—”Trying to recreate what has yet to be created.”—Michael McDonald, What A Fool Believes. Thanks for ruining the Doobie Brothers, a-hole.

—”Timothy“, the entire song, by the Buoys, a band decades ahead of its time in its celebration of the cannibalistic aspects of teen angst. Trust me, that’s what it’s about.

—”I’m still an embryo, With a long, long way to go”—Helen Reddy, I Am Woman.

—”Sitting cross-legged on the floor, 25 or 6 to 4.”—Chicago, a song so bad I refuse to retype the title for attribution.

—”Ob-la-di, ob-la-da, life goes on, brah. La-la-la-la life goes on.”—The Beatles, Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da.

—”The need inside you, I see it showin’. Whoa, the seed inside ya baby, do you feel it growin’?”—Paul Anka, Having My Baby.

—”Look at that mountain, look at those trees. Look at that bum over there, man, he’s down on his knees.”—Randy Newman, I Love L.A.

—”Go ahead, bite the Big Apple. Don’t mind the maggots.”—Rolling Stones, Shattered. Mick, of course, is the supreme autocratic monarch of rock and roll (Springsteen and Pink Floyd fans, take note). I’d like to think Keith penned this line.

—(speaking of Springsteen) “Just wrap your legs ’round these velvet rims and strap your hands ‘cross my engines.”—Born To Run.

—”Our hearts told us we were right, And on that sweet and velvet night, A child had died, a woman had been born.”—Gary Puckett and the Union Gap, This Girl Is A Woman Now. Has a sweeter couplet describing the deflowering of a young virgin ever been authored?

—”Better stay away from him. He’ll rip your lungs out, Jim. Ha! I’d like to meet his tailor.”—Warren Zevon**, Werewolves Of London.

Now we come to Afternoon Delight, Starland Vocal Band. Deserving of its own section, this opus shares the “entire song” honor with Timothy (see above). However, by virtue of its much wider airplay, as well as its key role in one of the funniest cinema moments of all time (you’ll have to watch Good Will Hunting to find out how), I have chosen these lines for publication:

—”Rubbing sticks and stones together makes the sparks ignite, And the thought of rubbing you is getting so exciting.”

—”Started out this morning feeling so polite, I always thought a fish could not be caught who didn’t bite. But you got some bait a-waitin’ and I think I might Like nibbling a little Afternoon Delight.”

—And of course “Skyrockets in flight, afternoon delight. Aa,a,afternoon delight.”

Hmm, I guess that is the whole song.

Some of you might be asking, “Well, where the hell is anything by Gilbert O’Sullivan?” And I dare say you might be right. But I liked all of his stuff. Even “Clair”. Sue me.

**9/23/02: I am sad to report that Warren has been diagnosed with inoperable lung cancer. A bitter tie-in to the lyric. Send lawyers, guns, and money; the sh*t has hit the fan. Thank you, Warren, for everything.