The difference between journalism and history is, of course, time and perspective Á¢€” as IÁ¢€™ve been reminded over the last few months, as IÁ¢€™ve presumptuously taken it upon myself to identify the Worst Number One Songs of the Rock Era. IÁ¢€™ve had to attack songs from the Á¢€™50s and Á¢€™60s that I wasnÁ¢€™t around to hear in heavy rotation on Top 40 radio, and therefore can only judge through a historical prism. IÁ¢€™ve been forced to balance my childhood/teenage perspective on the music of the Á¢€™70s and Á¢€™80s with my current, more jaundiced view Á¢€” a view that dominated my thoughts on Á¢€™90s music.
But now thatÁ¢€™s all out the window, as I wade into the (at times kinda filthy) waters of Noughties pop with a firm realization that I am definitively Out Of The Demographic. Though it fluctuates around the edges, the traditional target demo of Top 40 radio is ages 12 to 35; well, I hit my 35th birthday in December 2000 Á¢€” the Number One song that week appears on this list Á¢€” and right around that time my (practically) lifelong obsession with pop radio and the Hot 100 was confronted by a simple, yet overpowering question: Á¢€Å“What is this crap?Á¢€
And just like that, I found myself perilously close to this:
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Oh, IÁ¢€™ve done my best to fight it Á¢€” that whole Á¢€Å“Why do kids listen to this type of music?Á¢€ thing. IÁ¢€™ve tried to keep up, and in fact, in researching this column I was pleasantly surprised to find relatively few songs that I had never heard even once. (Of course, in many cases I had only heard them because I had seen a fresh issue of Billboard, thought Á¢€Å“What the heck is that?Á¢€ and made a quick visit to iTunes or YouTube.) Of course, music fans of all ages, races and tastes are likely to find similar gaps in their knowledge of this decadeÁ¢€™s chart-topping songs. As I detailed last week in this space, huge changes at radio and in the marketplace have turned the Hot 100 into something of a warehouse for the biggest hits in various (and often mutually exclusive) radio sub-formats, rather than a distillation of the once-hegemonic Top 40 beast.
Simply put, the Hot 100 no longer reflects the listening experiences of many pop-radio-listening Americans. It leans a bit too heavily on R&B tracks, because the Á¢€Å“Rhythmic Top 40Á¢€ stations on the Hot 100 radio panel tend to give more daily spins to their top tracks than do Á¢€Å“Top 40 MainstreamÁ¢€ stations. It leans way too heavily on rap singles, even though many of those singles receive scant airplay on the majority of pop stations, because rap accounts for a disproportionate percentage of the CD singles still being sold. In fact, the Hot 100 has changed so much, and generated so many complaints in recent years, that Billboard saw fit three years ago to create a Á¢€Å“Pop 100Á¢€ chart (and a complementary Á¢€Å“Pop 100 AirplayÁ¢€ list) to track activity on whatÁ¢€™s left of Á¢€Å“mainstreamÁ¢€ Top 40.
But you know what? Screw it. If the Hot 100 is still good enough for Fred Bronson and his Billboard Book of Number One Hits, itÁ¢€™s good enough for me Á¢€” even if it means I had to give multiple spins to a batch of derivative, middling rap hits that likely wouldnÁ¢€™t have come anywhere near the Number One slot if not for their utter prurience. So letÁ¢€™s get on with it, and IÁ¢€™ll try to get through without too many Quincy moments.
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10. Á¢€Å“Independent Women Part One,Á¢€ DestinyÁ¢€™s Child. I was never a big fan of DestinyÁ¢€™s staccato vocal style, and this is the song on which it bothered me most. Sure, itÁ¢€™s full of female empowerment, which is all well and good. But itÁ¢€™s also full of shoutouts to CharlieÁ¢€™s Angels, the film for which it was written (or, as Beyonce says, rewritten) Á¢€” and even to the actresses in the film, which is definitely not cool. (Self-referential lyrics are a pet peeve of mine, which has left me wincing through much of 21st-century pop.) Finally, every time Beyonce launches a line with the word Á¢€Å“Question,Á¢€ IÁ¢€™m thinkinÁ¢€™, Á¢€Å“Yo, shawty, what you all up in my grill for?Á¢€ (Or whatever the kids are saying these days…) Fortunately, the girls followed this finger-wagging feminist tract with the decidedly post-feminist Á¢€Å“BootyliciousÁ¢€ Á¢€” a song that not only was more inventive lyrically, but was built on a nicely turned sample of Á¢€Å“Edge of Seventeen.Á¢€ Maybe if Hillary Clinton had been less Á¢€Å“Independent WomenÁ¢€ and more Á¢€Å“Bootylicious,Á¢€ things would be different now. IÁ¢€™m just sayinÁ¢€™Á¢€¦
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9. Á¢€Å“Maria Maria,Á¢€ Santana featuring The Product G&B and Wyclef Jean. In the wake of the massive, Grammy-winning hit Á¢€Å“SmoothÁ¢€ came this second massive, Grammy-winning hit from SantanaÁ¢€™s comeback album Supernatural. One difference: This song sucks. ThereÁ¢€™s lots of Spanish-guitar noodling, inane rap fills (why anyone felt it appropriate for the already clichÁƒ©d phrase Á¢€Å“east coast, east coastÁ¢€ to appear here is beyond me) Á¢€” but no discernable melody. And the self-referential chorus-closer Á¢€Å“like a guitarÁ¢€¦played by Carlos SantanaÁ¢€ is a total groaner. Ten weeks at Number One? Á‚¡Ay, caramba! Faith Hill’s probably still pissed off: Her biggest hit, “Breathe,” got blue in the face during its five weeks at #2. By the way: Maybe I havenÁ¢€™t been paying enough attention, but whatever happened to Wyclef Jean? IÁ¢€™m not sure, but I heard somewhere that he was whacked over the head with a shovel and buried out back by Will.I.Am.
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8. Á¢€Å“Butterfly,Á¢€ Crazy Town. DonÁ¢€™t you hate it when thereÁ¢€™s a great band thatÁ¢€™s a bit too cool and out-of-the-mainstream to make the Top 40 consistently, and then some cheap, lame-ass imitation act comes along with a song thatÁ¢€™s like something the good band might have done when they were 12 Á¢€” and it becomes a huge hit? Ladies and gentlemen, meet Crazy Town. I donÁ¢€™t even have much of an attachment to the Red Hot Chili Peppers, but I was still offended when these one-hit wannabes took Á¢€Å“Pretty Little DittyÁ¢€ and turned it into this little turd. The whole Á¢€Å“come mÁ¢€™lady, come, come mÁ¢€™ladyÁ¢€ thing was groovinÁ¢€™ for about the first minute, but after that the radio dial definitely needed changing. Nice tattoos, though…if you go for that sort of thing.
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7. Á¢€Å“Do I Make You Proud,Á¢€ Taylor Hicks. In honor of this weekÁ¢€™s American Idol finale. The showÁ¢€™s been saddling its winners with horrid, Á¢€Å“inspirationalÁ¢€ pop songs for years, and this oneÁ¢€™s the worst of them all. David Cook is probably praying right now that he doesnÁ¢€™t win Wednesday night, so that his first chart single wonÁ¢€™t be whatever piece of crap theyÁ¢€™ve come up with this year.
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6. Á¢€Å“Kiss Kiss,Á¢€ Chris Brown featuring T-Pain. This has got to be one of the most thoroughly processed tracks in pop history; you can sense the low hum of auto-tunes, digitizers and every other machine in the studio, generating enough wasted electricity to short out (or would that be shawt out) an entire city. This is the sort of single producers couldnÁ¢€™t have dreamed of making in earlier decades Á¢€” the technology simply wasnÁ¢€™t there Á¢€” but in its very state-of-the-art disjointedness (and ridiculously bad songwriting), Á¢€Å“Kiss KissÁ¢€ begs the question: Has all this technology enhanced the craft of making music, or replaced it? While you ponder that, I have a simple message for Brown: IÁ¢€™m hatinÁ¢€™ on ya, hatinÁ¢€™ on ya, dis dis dis.
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5. Á¢€Å“Crank That (Soulja Boy),Á¢€ Soulja Boy. This might be the Á¢€Å“hip-hop ‘Macarena,’Á¢€ but last decadeÁ¢€™s dumb-ass dance sensation was infinitely more tolerable than this one. Even the presence of a steel drum for the first time on a Number One hit fails to diminish the monumental irritation created by this track Á¢€” particularly when every other 16-year-old on the planet has it for a ringtone. Soulja BoyÁ¢€™s Á¢€Å“yooooooÁ¢€s are so grating that even the ChipmunksÁ¢€™ version of this song isnÁ¢€™t really any more annoying.
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4. (tie) Á¢€Å“IÁ¢€™m RealÁ¢€ and Á¢€Å“AinÁ¢€™t It Funny,Á¢€ Jennifer Lopez featuring Ja Rule. Sometimes the public taste is simply inexplicable, as exemplified by two embarrassingly moronic figures who became hugely successful right around the turn of the millennium: George W. Bush and Ja Rule. Ja RuleÁ¢€™s voice makes me absolutely crazy Á¢€” he sounds like he smokes six packs of unfiltered cigarettes before entering the studio, then hacks up a lung all over the mic. And yet he was the hottest thing going back in 2001-02, and when Jennifer Lopez needed a goose at radio for her J. Lo album, she allowed him to fuck up two perfectly serviceable singles. Damned if it didnÁ¢€™t work, too. Still, the question remains: Has a more incompetently performed track than the Á¢€Å“IÁ¢€™m RealÁ¢€ remix ever risen so high on the charts? The only good thing about it is the Mary Jane Girls sample, but that just makes me want to go listen to the Mary Jane Girls. Á¢€Å“AinÁ¢€™t It FunnyÁ¢€ may actually be the bigger crime of these two, because of the way Ja Rule gargles nails on top of what was once a perfectly nice, Latin-flavored J. Lo track. (HeÁ¢€™s also terrible on his other Number One hit, Á¢€Å“Always on Time,Á¢€ but that songÁ¢€™s vibe is so nice, and Ashanti is so smooth that she keeps you listening.) On the other hand, J. Lo finally got the rapped-sung duet thing right when she hooked up with LL Cool J for Á¢€Å“All I Have.Á¢€
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3. Á¢€Å“YouÁ¢€™re Beautiful,Á¢€ James Blunt. James, Leo Sayer called. He wants his voice back. WhatÁ¢€™s that? Oh, right — you wouldnÁ¢€™t have a voice then. And the problem with that isÁ¢€¦?
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2. (tie) Á¢€Å“Slow Motion,Á¢€ Juvenile featuring Soulja Slim, and Á¢€Å“Lollipop,Á¢€ Lil Wayne featuring Static Major. Apart from the fact that both these songs feature dead guys Á¢€” Soulja Slim was murdered right after recording Á¢€Å“Slow Motion,Á¢€ while Static Major died just before Á¢€Å“LollipopÁ¢€ was released Á¢€” they really only have one thing going for them. From Á¢€Å“Slow MotionÁ¢€ (cue Steve Allen): Á¢€Å“I’m a dick thrower, her neck and her back hurting/Cut throat will have her like a brand-new virgin/ItÁ¢€™s like when she gets used to it, then you start serving/Hop on top and start jiggy-jiggy jerking.Á¢€ And from Á¢€Å“LollipopÁ¢€: Á¢€Å“Man I ain’t never seen an ass like hers/And that pussy in my mouth had me at a loss for words/Told her to back it up like erp erp/And make that ass jump like jerp jerp/And thatÁ¢€™s when sh-sh-she licked me like a lollipop…Á¢€ Now, IÁ¢€™m nobodyÁ¢€™s idea of a prude (he said before proving he is one), but this strip-club soul doesnÁ¢€™t do anything I want pop music to do. Of course, these are the uncensored lyrics Á¢€” imagine the surprise of a dad whose daughter, having heard the Á¢€Å“cleanÁ¢€ version of Á¢€Å“LollipopÁ¢€ on the radio, has just downloaded the real thing and is playing it in her bedroom? (Sorry, just flashing forward 10 years to when my daughterÁ¢€™s a teenagerÁ¢€¦) I have to admit, though, that IÁ¢€™m kinda down with D4LÁ¢€™s Á¢€Å“snapÁ¢€ hit Á¢€Å“Laffy Taffy,Á¢€ which is based on a phrase popular in strip clubs that refers to a womanÁ¢€™s loose labia. Or, as Borat would say, Á¢€Å“Her vagine hang down to her ankles.Á¢€ (Thank heavens Casey Kasem never had to explain this one on American Top 40: “Here’s that four-piece rap act from Atlanta, D4L, with their ode to big pussy lips. At Number One on our countdown again this week, this…is ‘Laffy Taffy.'”) I recently told my wife I wanted her to Á¢€Å“shake that laffy taffy,Á¢€ and she laffed me right into the guest room for the night.
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1. Á¢€Å“London Bridge,Á¢€ Fergie. Having already attested to the loveliness of her lady lumps in the Black Eyed PeasÁ¢€™ risible Á¢€Å“My HumpsÁ¢€ (which you can bet would be on this list had it risen higher than #3 on the chart), Fergie debases herself further here by celebrating her ability to skip the lines outside nightclubs, Á¢€Å“dance like a hoÁ¢€ and then threaten to spray mace in the faces of paparazzi. Well, ya know, every girl needs a role modelÁ¢€¦particularly one that’s Fergalicious. Honey, could you please just put your “bridge” back up? ItÁ¢€™s startin’ to stank up the joint. And by the way Á¢€” that bridge you pass under in the video? ThatÁ¢€™s Tower Bridge. ItÁ¢€™s no wonder AmericaÁ¢€™s young people canÁ¢€™t place London Bridge where it belongs Á¢€” in Arizona Á¢€” or even find London on a map. They certainly can locate FergieÁ¢€™s humps, though. (Note: This ranking only applies to the Á¢€Å“Oh ShitÁ¢€ version featured above; the clean Á¢€Å“Oh SnapÁ¢€ version might have come in at #2.)
I have to say I find it impressive that Usher, despite having sat at Number One for about half the decade with one song or another, hasnÁ¢€™t released anything terrible enough to make this list. Meanwhile, if you were hoping for a smackdown of Á¢€Å“Hollaback Girl,Á¢€ I feel your pain, but GwenÁ¢€™s contribution to the degradation thatÁ¢€™s sweepinÁ¢€™ the nation wasnÁ¢€™t even the last song to get dropped from this list. That honor goes to MimsÁ¢€™ unbelievably stupid Á¢€Å“This Is Why IÁ¢€™m Hot.Á¢€ (Note to Mims: really, you ainÁ¢€™t Á¢€™cause youÁ¢€™re not.)
Well, at long last, thatÁ¢€™s it. Six editions of the worst songs ever to grace the pinnacle of popÁ¢€™s most prestigious chart. Meet me back here in about 12 years for a rundown of the Worst Number One Songs of the Á¢€™10s (the Á¢€Å“songs that soiled my little girlÁ¢€™s lifeÁ¢€ edition), and in 22 years for the Worst of the Á¢€™20s (the Á¢€Å“Hey, you kids, get off my lawn!Á¢€ edition). Until then, as Casey would say, “Keep your feet on the ground, and keep reaching for the stars…and for crying out loud, get your Laffy Taffy outta my face.”
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