Apologies for my lack of knack to embed
alternate headline: man does job
A couple weeks ago, Ace posted the stuff he'd play if he woke up tomorrow morning looking like Seth Greene in Can't Hardly Wait…
…and found out he was the man with the power to play the piped-in music at the stadium. This got me to thinking what I'd play—mostly White Stripes—until I had a thought: what if I could discredit the very idea of piped-in music so badly that they'd burn the speakers after the game? What if I could sit upon my be-goggled perch laughing maniacally with tented fingers as an enraged mob did my secret bidding? Yes. Yes, this is what I must do. I must destroy the institution from the inside.
Ground rule: no working blue. Anything played must be a radio edit, or a hypothetical radio edit of a song that excises naughty words that cause mothers to clap their hands over baby's ears. Otherwise this would just be Peaches songs.
Presenting the diabolical master plan to win hearts and minds by destroying them…
Joanna Newsom is a deranged elven harpist who put out an hour-long album with five songs on it. This is one of them. It's also a story of a manipulative monkey that convinces a sweet-hearted bear to flee its home, then exploits her for financial gain until she decides to drown itself. Possibly because she has brain damage. Awkward…
This could be anything in their discography, really. Sigur Ros is an Icelandic band who invented their own language because all the existing ones were insufficient to express their meandering longing for… Icelandic stuff. Especially good for fourth-quarter defensive stands, as there is a strong chance opposing quarterback will lapse into a coma.
Seth says the title means "I have a nosebleed."
Jarring, high-pitched, probably-intentionally-annoying Japanese-expatriate food-punk containing the line "are you made or broken by the birthday cake" and the chorus
SHUT UP AND EAT
TOO BAD NO BON APPETIT
SHUT UP AND EAT
YOU KNOW MY LOVE IS SWEET
Involuntarily listening to this over and over will drive you insane. People would start eating each other, screaming "TOO BAD NO BON APPETIT."'
[IT GETS EVEN WORSE AFTER THE JUMP]
Many, many sex-related songs fell to the no-working-blue rule and the assumption that "ass" would not be broadcast in the stadium. Shake Ya Ass, Back That Ass Up, Rumpshaker… all fallen. Why I've decided to hew to this rule in a list of songs that would never, ever be played anyway is unknown, but I have.
"Promiscuous" would slip by any and all word-based nanny censors no problem. In this it is rare. Meanwhile, the chorus of this song invites a conversation like this:
ADORABLE CHILD: Daddy, what does "promiscuous" mean?
FATHER: It's third and one. Ask your mother.
ADORABLE CHILD: Mommy, what does "promiscuous" mean?
MOTHER: Uh… it's not good.
ADORABLE CHILD: It sounds fun! Boys AND girls can be promiscuous!
MOTHER: SPECIAL K, YOU BASTARD! /shakes fist at sky, watches third and one, pines for commercial break
JUST LOOK AT THE STAGE THING HERE AND THIS DUDE'S SQUINT
Possibly the worst song ever written, which recommends it greatly here. Also about your father dying in a very, very, very, very, very obvious way. Since many will be there with their actual fathers, entire stadium ends up torn between loathing for the song, preemptive regret at the lack of connection with the person literally sitting next to them, and maudlin breakdowns the sixteenth time this is played before a third and five.
It's a Legend of Zelda game. Like listening to the Cibo Matto above, this will drive you insane, especially because its recurrence will make you believe you've just died for the 40th straight time trying to kill this one particular boss.
[Via Laser Romance.]
This is the grimmest, darkest Smiths song of them all. This is saying something. "There Is A Light That Never Goes Out" is the Nyan Cat theme compared to "Asleep." The guy who posted it on youtube described it as "as beautiful as it is ghastly; a song of assiduous despair, it is the harsh and authentic clamour of the human soul at its most nihilistic," which he no doubt stole from a guy in an ascot but still. Yeah. That's what we're dealing with here.
Perfect for punting. This song is punting your soul.
You may recognize this from Donnie Darko. If there's one thing Michigan football needs it's a creepy one-eyed hell-bunny mascot.
Via Orson, a tale of a woman losing her husband. Orson describes it as "This song is like 'haha, how adolescent and overblown and WHY TEARS OH GOD WHY—"
Also via Orson. May cause various players and fans from rough backgrounds to weep openly instead of blocking on field goals. DAMN YOU GHOSTFACE KILLAH AND YOUR EFFECT ON SHAWN CRABLE.
Slipping just past the radio edit boundary is Tori Amos deciding not to kill herself in pretty much the saddest thing for anyone with testosterone to perceive!
Yes I wore a slinky red thing
Does that mean I should spread
For you, your friends your father, Mr. Ed
I feel bad for including this. Also for having testicles.
Guh. This would be bad enough if football didn't accelerate this process considerably. This is getting dark. Like, I was having fun when this post started and now I'm just feeling morbid. A PALE HORSE RIDES FOR US ALL.
The cause is just. We must continue.
[EMBED REMOVED TO PRESERVE THE SANITY OF THE AUTHOR]
Apologies for my lack of knack to embed
Often thought how this would sound when sung by 114,000 people.
When I saw Mike Rutherford, I had no idea that he was in another band besides Genesis (sheltered, yes). So I had to look it up on wikipedia, and found this pic:
which in turn totally reminded me of another musician, whose music could be added to the list...
...I would have the band only play pregame and halftime. At all other breaks in action and post-game, this would be played. It's terrible once, but imagine it being played 50 times every single home game:
Agreed that "Mother" made an otherwise good album seem like an eardrum killer. Before that there was this one:
... in that "Portlandia" sketch about music snobs having a meeting with their preschool teacher? Good stuff.
Personally, I would recommned GTR's "The Hunter" -- awful late 80's "supergroup" composed of members of Yes, Asia, Genesis, etc. ("GTR" = "Gunning to Rock" in a totally non-ironic sense) -- playing a terrible, terrible rock balad. Everyone in the stadium will try to slit their wrists with a dull butter knife rather than listen to it again. Also: anything by Glass Tiger.
Brian - your list does not induce the required fear and loathing. I fear a larger number of fans than we care to admit would clap their hands and sing along to a couple of your choices.
Here's a short list of songs intended to cripple, insult or lobotomize:
. . . wonderful to hear Braniac on banjo! . . .
And a great favourite, and a wonderful performer, of all of us here, J. Arthur Rank on gong....