One of the podcasts I subscribe to is the kcrw today’s top tune. I don’t know. It seemed like a good idea. It’s free, symptoms legal music. Unfortunately, it’s usually shitty.

Topping the list of shitty ditties (hey, Im a writer!!) is this gem of a turd by someone calling herself ani difranco.

Is there a more obvious, crappy, pandering, grouping of lyrics? You can feel the right side of everything withering away. It’s like a 14 year old was forced to write a song at gunpoint.

It’s everything I hate about the left. It’s hamfisted, cynical and smug. And offers no solutions. (very much like me!) I can see (and smell) the dreadlocked couples gripping their hands that much more tightly together and nodding knowingly at each other when they hear:

pulling coat tails out from under that little v.p.
before he has a chance to get in the driver’s seat

Dude, that’s so poetic. Get it? She’s talking about al fucking gore, dude!!! Dude.

It is wondrous how bad this song is.

Right after 9/11, a bunch of people wrote songs and I remember listening to them in horror.

Perhaps this is a better example:

Back before you were born, on the first night of the l.a. Riots, we didn’t know that they were going to stop burning their own places down and come for us, so people were still out doing stuff and Im pretty sure it was a Monday night because I used to go to the Central (now the Viper Room) and play in pick up bands (it’s where I met Russ… Christ a whole other fucking story… The point, asshole, the point!) And we were playing something and I took the opportunity to address everyone and said “I KNOW THERE’S A RIOT GOING ON RIGHT NOW, BUT I BEG YOU SONGWRITERS OUT THERE TO PLEASE NOT WRITE A SONG CALLED ‘ANGELS ON FIRE’!!! PLEASE. CONTROL YOURSELVES!!! IT IS A SUCKY TITLE AND A SUCKY LYRIC. DON’T FUCKING DO IT!”

Then a couple years later, when I was playing with Milk, a guy (Im protecting the guilty here; a first) who used to do some keyboards on recordings for us had us sing backup on a song he wrote. You know what lyric was included, don’t you? I don’t have to say it, do I? I thought not. Thank you.

So here are the lyrics to the piece of shit from the kcrw podcast, reprinted without permission. Dude, music wants to be free, dude. And that’s the only way this music can be heard. They have to give it away for free.

millennium theater
get out there and buy that water and gas
ramadan orange alert
everybody put on your gas mask

first leak it out about the president
then stand up and shout “impeachment”
pulling coat tails out from under that little v.p.
before he has a chance to get in the driver’s seat

millennium spectacle
everybody put on a show
slip a little prince in the back door
21st century here we go

digital whiplash
so many formats so little time
while out in tv nation
under darkening skies
the resistance is just waiting
to be organized

halliburton, enron
chief justice is for sale
yucca mountain goddesses
their tears they form a trail

trickle down israel
patriarchies realign
the ice caps melt
and new orleans bides her time
new orleans bides her time

ladies and gentlemen
welcome to tonight’s show
the millennium theater
asks that you not smoke
please turn off your cell phones
and forget what you think you know

There. It’s over. Now go take a shower. I had to share it with you. I’m sorry. I have to release some of the hate inside of me. I’m sorry. But I mean, really… You understand, right?

Heres the thing: I LISTEN TO THIS SONG EVERY DAY. No shit.

It’s similar to my ingrown toenail. I’ve had an ingrown toenail for, oh, three months now. And it hurts like fuck. First it was just annoying. Then I picked at it, hoping that the nail would grow over the skin, but no, it just made the nail sharper and it grew deeper under the skin. Then it got infected and between that and walking on it, working out, kickboxing, etc. It started to really hurt. Then. It grew through the skin on the front of my toe and the skin fell off (with some help). And it didn’t hurt as much. That was two months ago; (right about the time we got to this hellhole some refer to as “Minneapolis”). But. I had to keep fucking with it, to see how much it hurt. And because I couldn’t leave it alone, it kept hurting.

It’s like when you’re in your 20’s and that girl leaves you and you think about all the fun she’s having with all those other guys. You know, the gangbangs and bukkake experiences you try to imagine she’s exploring with the basketball teams and rock stars? You try to come up with the situations that will cause you the most heartache.

I used to call it testing the bruise.

Now I call it “listening to ani difranco’s piece of shit song I downloaded for free from public radio”.