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Amstel

Songs that make you want to throw up?

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Thanks for this because I hadn't been aware of this exclusive CBC Music interview with Joni, which I am now watching in its entirety.

Good to know I'm not alone on the Dylan thing. Although actually Joni Mitchell came out recently and said that he was not musically very gifted, not a great guitar player and he sings like an old hillbilly.

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This song certainly comes to mind:

Edited by Emily008

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Yes, indeedy. The radio stations used to insist on playing this with monotonous regularity. I don't know who I hate more - her or him!!

This song certainly comes to mind:

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Yes, indeedy. The radio stations used to insist on playing this with monotonous regularity. I don't know who I hate more - her or him!!

Yes and I honestly can't understand the fascination many radio stations had for the genre "bubble gum pop".

I reached the end of my patience as far as this song was concerned, when my niece used to constantly sing it around the house while visiting! Lucky for me, it was just a "phase" that she was going through at the time! :)

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Charles J. White. :lol:

By the way, even though I count myself a Bob Dylan fan(mainly his early albums up to 1975's "Blood On the Tracks"), I find myself agreeing with your take on Dylan in your post. Too many times Dylan is the knee-jerk response by musicians trying to seem erudite and hip. What's next, Ke$ha saying Dylan is an influence?

And his voice is like rubbing sandpaper over my heart. I refuse to shell out any more money to hear him ruin his songbook with his froggy croakings. His once great band is mailing it in these days, too.

A few weeks ago I was looking through some back issues of a magazine over here in the U.K called Mojo magazine, and from the December 2002 issue we have this perfect encapsulation of what you are saying from The White Stripes; who pick the ten (wonderfully obscure and hipster artists) who have influenced them, including: The Monks, The Rats, The Gun Club and The Gories all of whom I must admit to have never having heard of. The icing on top of the hipster cake though is these words on Bob Dylan

"Impossible for us not to call him an influence. And we imagine the same for any musician who truly loves music. Probably no need to tell you why. Our favourite albums are Nashville Skyline, Blood on the Tracks and Desire. Important: do not trust trust people who call themselves musicians or record collectors who say they don't like Bob Dylan or The Beatles. They do not love music if those words come out of their mouths. They love record sleeves and getting attention for their hobby, but they don't love music"

Jack White also said words to the same effect in regards to Zep, but still....he's talking out of his arse.

Edited by Pagesbow

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Yes, indeedy. The radio stations used to insist on playing this with monotonous regularity. I don't know who I hate more - her or him!!

For some reason, I hate him more?

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I don't have many because I don't listen to the radio frequently enough to warrant such a strong reaction.

Because of that, I can hear a song like Sultans of Swing or Radar Love and enjoy it.

True, there was a time when such songs wore me out, but because of being overplayed, not that they sucked.
Hell, back when I couldn't start the car without the radio playing, I used to loathe Beatles Weekends - the first 30 minutes of each hour Beatles, and the last 30 minutes catching up on the standard current playlist, leaving no room for pleasant surprises of unexpected cuts.

But that was a long time ago.

What I DON'T get, is the wholesale dismissal of entire genres - Hair Bands, Rap, Country, whatever.

There isn't a genre that doesn't have at least a song or two I like / enjoy.

No, I don't purposely listen to country, but I've still run across songs that were worth listening to.

And I won't say much about Rap, since it's guaranteed to spark a powderkeg of knee-jerk reactions.

But there are many rap songs that are awesome, especially when you have a sweet buzz going.

I just think it's kinda narrow-minded to dismiss an entire genre wholesale.

But that's just me.

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Important: do not trust trust people who call themselves musicians or record collectors who say they don't like Bob Dylan or The Beatles. They do not love music if those words come out of their mouths. They love record sleeves and getting attention for their hobby, but they don't love music"

Heh--then I guess I can't be trusted. I'm a (n amateur) record collector, and I've never been able to listen to an entire Dylan song. Ever. And 99% of the Beatles material leaves me flat. I don't hate it, but I just don't enjoy it enough to say I'm a fan.

Other than Dylan, the only "serious" bands that rise to the barf-level are the Eagles and Janis Joplin. Even a snippet of one of her songs can send me (and the mice) running from the room.

Then again, I'm hesitant to commit to my barf-inducing choices. I've found as I've gotten older that I like music I never thought I would have when I was younger. Willie Nelson is a perfect example. When I was young, anything country was anathema. So maybe one day, when my hearing is mostly gone, and I've taken leave of my senses, I'll put a Dylan or Joplin or Eagles record on and think it's not bad.

Edited by Grits 'n' Gravy

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What I DON'T get, is the wholesale dismissal of entire genres - Hair Bands, Rap, Country, whatever.There isn't a genre that doesn't have at least a song or two I like / enjoy.No, I don't purposely listen to country, but I've still run across songs that were worth listening to.And I won't say much about Rap, since it's guaranteed to spark a powderkeg of knee-jerk reactions.But there are many rap songs that are awesome, especially when you have a sweet buzz going. I just think it's kinda narrow-minded to dismiss an entire genre wholesale.But that's just me.

Rap was fresh and enjoyable when it first came out - heck, I still have my Sugarhill Gang t shirt - but for me it ended with Run DMC and the Beastie Boys.What I can't stomach is the crassness of the rap culture nowadays.

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Who overrates them? certainly not the critics. They were popular with the "ladies" and we all know why - the keyboard player was a studmuffin, obviously. And ballads, lots of ballads....

Talking or overrated Bob Dylan - seemingly EVERYONE in music of a certain vintage is influenced by him and sings his praises on a regular basis. I don't throw up when I hear him, but I certainly mute him whenever I watch the Big Lebowski and his nasal pontifications start up.

Criticizing Bob Dylan's voice is like criticizing Shakespeare's handwriting, it's the genius in what they have to say, not how it's presented.

Edited by backinthezeppelin

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Criticizing Bob Dylan's voice is like criticizing Shakespeare's handwriting, it's the genius in what they have to say, not how it's presented.

Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle like a gypsy queen

Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle all dressed in green

Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle ’til the moon is blue

Wiggle ’til the moon sees you

Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle in your boots and shoes

Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, you got nothing to lose

Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle like a swarm of bees

Wiggle on your hands and knees

Wiggle to the front, wiggle to the rear

Wiggle ’til you wiggle right out of here

Wiggle ’til it opens, wiggle ’til it shuts

Wiggle ’til it bites, wiggle ’til it cuts

Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle like a bowl of soup

Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle like a rolling hoop

Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle like a ton of lead

Wiggle—you can raise the dead

Wiggle ’til you’re high, wiggle ’til you’re higher

Wiggle ’til you vomit fire

Wiggle ’til it whispers, wiggle ’til it hums

Wiggle ’til it answers, wiggle ’til it comes

Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle like satin and silk

Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle like a pail of milk

Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, rattle and shake

Wiggle like a big fat snake

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Standing on your window, honey
Yes, I’ve been here before
Feeling so harmless
I’m looking at your second door
How come you don’t send me no regards?
You know I want your lovin’
Honey, why are you so hard?

Kneeling ’neath your ceiling
Yes, I guess I’ll be here for a while
I’m tryin’ to read your portrait, but
I’m helpless, like a rich man’s child
How come you send someone out to have me barred?
You know I want your lovin’
Honey, why are you so hard?

Like a poor fool in his prime
Yes, I know you can hear me walk
But is your heart made out of stone, or is it lime
Or is it just solid rock?

Well, I rush into your hallway
Lean against your velvet door
I watch upon your scorpion
Who crawls across your circus floor
Just what do you think you have to guard?
You know I want your lovin’
Honey, but you’re so hard

Achilles is in your alleyway
He don’t want me here, he does brag
He’s pointing to the sky
And he’s hungry, like a man in drag
How come you get someone like him to be your guard?
You know I want your lovin’
Honey, but you’re so hard



Read more: http://www.bobdylan.com/us/songs/temporary-achilles#ixzz2XwJaSBTf

With your mercury mouth in the missionary times
And your eyes like smoke and your prayers like rhymes
And your silver cross, and your voice like chimes
Oh, who among them do they think could bury you?
With your pockets well protected at last
And your streetcar visions which you place on the grass
And your flesh like silk, and your face like glass
Who among them do they think could carry you?
Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands
Where the sad-eyed prophet says that no man comes
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums
Should I leave them by your gate
Or, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?

With your sheets like metal and your belt like lace
And your deck of cards missing the jack and the ace
And your basement clothes and your hollow face
Who among them can think he could outguess you?
With your silhouette when the sunlight dims
Into your eyes where the moonlight swims
And your matchbook songs and your gypsy hymns
Who among them would try to impress you?
Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands
Where the sad-eyed prophet says that no man comes
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums
Should I leave them by your gate
Or, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?

The kings of Tyrus with their convict list
Are waiting in line for their geranium kiss
And you wouldn’t know it would happen like this
But who among them really wants just to kiss you?
With your childhood flames on your midnight rug
And your Spanish manners and your mother’s drugs
And your cowboy mouth and your curfew plugs
Who among them do you think could resist you?
Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands
Where the sad-eyed prophet says that no man comes
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums
Should I leave them by your gate
Or, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?

Oh, the farmers and the businessmen, they all did decide
To show you the dead angels that they used to hide
But why did they pick you to sympathize with their side?
Oh, how could they ever mistake you?
They wished you’d accepted the blame for the farm
But with the sea at your feet and the phony false alarm
And with the child of a hoodlum wrapped up in your arms
How could they ever, ever persuade you?
Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands
Where the sad-eyed prophet says that no man comes
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums
Should I leave them by your gate
Or, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?

With your sheet-metal memory of Cannery Row
And your magazine-husband who one day just had to go
And your gentleness now, which you just can’t help but show
Who among them do you think would employ you?
Now you stand with your thief, you’re on his parole
With your holy medallion which your fingertips fold
And your saintlike face and your ghostlike soul
Oh, who among them do you think could destroy you?
Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands
Where the sad-eyed prophet says that no man comes
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums
Should I leave them by your gate
Or, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?



Read more: http://www.bobdylan.com/us/songs/sad-eyed-lady-lowlands#ixzz2XwJGF9FA

Our conversation was short and sweet

It nearly swept me off-a my feet
And I’m back in the rain, oh, oh
And you are on dry land
You made it there somehow
You’re a big girl now

Bird on the horizon, sittin’ on a fence
He’s singin’ his song for me at his own expense
And I’m just like that bird, oh, oh
Singin’ just for you
I hope that you can hear
Hear me singin’ through these tears

Time is a jet plane, it moves too fast
Oh, but what a shame if all we’ve shared can’t last
I can change, I swear, oh, oh
See what you can do
I can make it through
You can make it too

Love is so simple, to quote a phrase
You’ve known it all the time, I’m learnin’ it these days
Oh, I know where I can find you, oh, oh
In somebody’s room
It’s a price I have to pay
You’re a big girl all the way

A change in the weather is known to be extreme
But what’s the sense of changing horses in midstream?
I’m going out of my mind, oh, oh
With a pain that stops and starts
Like a corkscrew to my heart
Ever since we’ve been apart



Read more: http://www.bobdylan.com/us/songs/youre-big-girl-now#ixzz2XwJIkd2V

I was riding on the Mayflower

When I thought I spied some land
I yelled for Captain Arab
I have yuh understand
Who came running to the deck
Said, “Boys, forget the whale
Look on over yonder
Cut the engines
Change the sail
Haul on the bowline”
We sang that melody
Like all tough sailors do
When they are far away at sea

“I think I’ll call it America”
I said as we hit land
I took a deep breath
I fell down, I could not stand
Captain Arab he started
Writing up some deeds
He said, “Let’s set up a fort
And start buying the place with beads”
Just then this cop comes down the street
Crazy as a loon
He throw us all in jail
For carryin’ harpoons

Ah me I busted out
Don’t even ask me how
I went to get some help
I walked by a Guernsey cow
Who directed me down
To the Bowery slums
Where people carried signs around
Saying, “Ban the bums”
I jumped right into line
Sayin’, “I hope that I’m not late”
When I realized I hadn’t eaten
For five days straight

I went into a restaurant
Lookin’ for the cook
I told them I was the editor
Of a famous etiquette book
The waitress he was handsome
He wore a powder blue cape
I ordered some suzette, I said
“Could you please make that crepe”
Just then the whole kitchen exploded
From boilin’ fat
Food was flying everywhere
And I left without my hat

Now, I didn’t mean to be nosy
But I went into a bank
To get some bail for Arab
And all the boys back in the tank
They asked me for some collateral
And I pulled down my pants
They threw me in the alley
When up comes this girl from France
Who invited me to her house
I went, but she had a friend
Who knocked me out
And robbed my boots
And I was on the street again

Well, I rapped upon a house
With the U.S. flag upon display
I said, “Could you help me out
I got some friends down the way”
The man says, “Get out of here
I’ll tear you limb from limb”
I said, “You know they refused Jesus, too”
He said, “You’re not Him
Get out of here before I break your bones
I ain’t your pop”
I decided to have him arrested
And I went looking for a cop

I ran right outside
And I hopped inside a cab
I went out the other door
This Englishman said, “Fab”
As he saw me leap a hot dog stand
And a chariot that stood
Parked across from a building
Advertising brotherhood
I ran right through the front door
Like a hobo sailor does
But it was just a funeral parlor
And the man asked me who I was

I repeated that my friends
Were all in jail, with a sigh
He gave me his card
He said, “Call me if they die”
I shook his hand and said goodbye
Ran out to the street
When a bowling ball came down the road
And knocked me off my feet
A pay phone was ringing
It just about blew my mind
When I picked it up and said hello
This foot came through the line

Well, by this time I was fed up
At tryin’ to make a stab
At bringin’ back any help
For my friends and Captain Arab
I decided to flip a coin
Like either heads or tails
Would let me know if I should go
Back to ship or back to jail
So I hocked my sailor suit
And I got a coin to flip
It came up tails
It rhymed with sails
So I made it back to the ship

Well, I got back and took
The parkin’ ticket off the mast
I was ripping it to shreds
When this coastguard boat went past
They asked me my name
And I said, “Captain Kidd”
They believed me but
They wanted to know
What exactly that I did
I said for the Pope of Eruke
I was employed
They let me go right away
They were very paranoid

Well, the last I heard of Arab
He was stuck on a whale
That was married to the deputy
Sheriff of the jail
But the funniest thing was
When I was leavin’ the bay
I saw three ships a-sailin’
They were all heading my way
I asked the captain what his name was
And how come he didn’t drive a truck
He said his name was Columbus
I just said, “Good luck”



Read more: http://www.bobdylan.com/us/songs/bob-dylans-115th-dream#ixzz2XwJLrwX9

Oh, where have you been, my blue-eyed son?

Oh, where have you been, my darling young one?
I’ve stumbled on the side of twelve misty mountains
I’ve walked and I’ve crawled on six crooked highways
I’ve stepped in the middle of seven sad forests
I’ve been out in front of a dozen dead oceans
I’ve been ten thousand miles in the mouth of a graveyard
And it’s a hard, and it’s a hard, it’s a hard, and it’s a hard
And it’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall

Oh, what did you see, my blue-eyed son?
Oh, what did you see, my darling young one?
I saw a newborn baby with wild wolves all around it
I saw a highway of diamonds with nobody on it
I saw a black branch with blood that kept drippin’
I saw a room full of men with their hammers a-bleedin’
I saw a white ladder all covered with water
I saw ten thousand talkers whose tongues were all broken
I saw guns and sharp swords in the hands of young children
And it’s a hard, and it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard
And it’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall

And what did you hear, my blue-eyed son?
And what did you hear, my darling young one?
I heard the sound of a thunder, it roared out a warnin’
Heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world
Heard one hundred drummers whose hands were a-blazin’
Heard ten thousand whisperin’ and nobody listenin’
Heard one person starve, I heard many people laughin’
Heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter
Heard the sound of a clown who cried in the alley
And it’s a hard, and it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard
And it’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall

Oh, who did you meet, my blue-eyed son?
Who did you meet, my darling young one?
I met a young child beside a dead pony
I met a white man who walked a black dog
I met a young woman whose body was burning
I met a young girl, she gave me a rainbow
I met one man who was wounded in love
I met another man who was wounded with hatred
And it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard
It’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall

Oh, what’ll you do now, my blue-eyed son?
Oh, what’ll you do now, my darling young one?
I’m a-goin’ back out ’fore the rain starts a-fallin’
I’ll walk to the depths of the deepest black forest
Where the people are many and their hands are all empty
Where the pellets of poison are flooding their waters
Where the home in the valley meets the damp dirty prison
Where the executioner’s face is always well hidden
Where hunger is ugly, where souls are forgotten
Where black is the color, where none is the number
And I’ll tell it and think it and speak it and breathe it
And reflect it from the mountain so all souls can see it
Then I’ll stand on the ocean until I start sinkin’
But I’ll know my song well before I start singin’
And it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard
It’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall



Read more: http://www.bobdylan.com/us/songs/hard-rains-gonna-fall#ixzz2XwJW74JU

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"I'd Like To Teach The World To Sing" by the New Seekers. It was the song used by Coca Cola in the 1970's. The lyrics are so twee, they are nausea inducing.

Example - "I'd like to build the world a home,

And furnish it with love,

Grow apple trees and honey bees,

And snow white turtle doves."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m1NeogMh1JI

Edited by kenog

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Europe - The Final Countdown.

Survivor - Eye of the Tiger.

I can't stand those two songs.....and another one has just sprung to mind.....

BTO - You Ain't Seen Nothin' Yet.

Switch off songs, all three of 'em.

And there's more.......later.......

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'Dignity' by Deacon Blue - what a dirge - predictable lyrics. I put it right up there with Ralph McTell's 'Streets of London'. Puke.

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Yup, so they say over and over again...I guess with a voice like that you'd have to be singing something other than Louie Louie. Personally, I like to listen to a song rather than read the lyrics and gush over their brilliance. Dylan is dirge and lyrics as opposed to music and lyrics. But each to their own, I mean I love Tom Petty and Neil Young and they are obviously fans of Dylan and influenced by him - so what do I know. I just know he's not my bag.

It is quite true that Bob Dylan can't sing. However this hasn't stopped my liking Lay Lady Lay and Rainy Day Woman. I remember watching an episode of an old cable TV series, Silk Stockings, in which a stripper performs her routine to the latter song.

The song that makes me want to throw up? Get Down by Gilbert O'Sullivan. I liked Alone Again, Naturally and I could tolerate Clare, but I drew the line at Get Down. It is pandering,lame drivel. The idea that a dweeby looking guy like O'Sullivan could have a human tigress pawing at him is ludicrous.

Edited by Disco Duck

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The song that makes me want to throw up? Get Down by Gilbert O'Sullivan. I liked Alone Again, Naturally and I could tolerate Clare, but I drew the line at Get Down. It is pandering,lame drivel. The idea that a dweeby looking guy like O'Sullivan could have a human tigress pawing at him is ludicrous.

Apparently, Get Down was written about his dog not a human tigress...

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I never get angry about music, I love music, even bad music I can find something in it that I admire or like.

agree 100 %

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