The Three All-Time Worst Songs Ever Recorded.

If you want to get me to throw myself off a cliff on a deserted island I’m stranded on, the best way to do it is to ensure that these are the only three songs on my iPod when I get stranded.

These are the three all-time worst songs ever recorded. I am embarrassed to say that it all happened within my lifetime.

 

Macarena by Los del Río

What is there to like about this song? Nothing. It repeats the same several phrases over and over again. Seriously boring. And for some reason when I hear this song, I see geriatric pensioners sort of being forced to dance to it in slow-mo as a part of a mandatory retirement home exercise.

Ugh. *Shudder*. Can we purge it now, please?

 

 

 

Mambo No. 5 by Lou Bega

Believe it or not, I have actually almost successfully wiped this song from my memory. I even had to look it up in order to write the response to this Plinky prompt.

Despite the fact that this song’s composition is a throwback to Big Band, which I love, the “Angela, Pamela, Sandra, Rita, Monica, Erica, Tina, Mary, Jessica” gets irritating.

For some reason, when I hear this song, I can imagine it being pumped out over the intercom of some dilapidated casino off the Strip in Vegas, as washed-up looking gamblers hunched over on red plastic stools take lazy drags from their cigarettes while they mechanically, mindlessly feed their respective slot machines.

I know. I have just painted a totally ugly picture. And that’s the point–the song’s feel-good “glamour” has largely been outstripped by the fact that it is overplayed and overhyped. And I bet you it’s playing in the lobby of Circus Circus right this second.

 

My Heart Will Go On by Celine Dion

It’s Celine Dion. It is overplayed. I can’t get it out of my head, and even writing about it right now is bound to embed this song in my head for a few hours, at least. Oh God help us.

James Cameron, Kate Winslet & Leonardo DiCaprio aside, seriously, this is the worse piece of rubbish ever. If I ever get to interview Cameron, I will ask, “Do you ever regret hiring on Dion, and if you could take it back now, wouldn’t you? Wouldn’t you prefer to just have had some romantic string quartet take over with some simple instrumentals?” If he replies, “No,” I’ll scream, “I call bullshit!” at his Oscar-award winning face.

 

Time For The Panic Attack!

You know just how attached I am to this thing.

It will not charge. I don’t know what the problem is.

I’m about to leave the house with the old Blackberry on hand just in case I need to swap it out. Sh!t.