Chuck Klosterman is a dangerous author for me to read. Not just because it leads to me posting quotes that upset people, but because I like his writing in a way that tends to creep into my own writing. After he releases a new book, I have be be really careful when I blog about pop culture, or else I end up with bad imitation Klosterman all over my blog.
(David Foster Wallace is another writer who has this effect on me– I was deleting footnotes for a week after I read Consider the Lobster…)
The safest thing to do would be to avoid the subject altogether until the feeling passes, but then links get stale, and anyway, I like to live on the edge (hence the posting of inflammatory stuff about atheists…). And really, how can you expect me to pass up a post (via jefitoblog about AOL’s list of the 111 Wussiest Songs of All Time? (The original list is on AOL, but they huffily inform me that my browser isn’t up to their standard, so to hell with them. If you want to see the original format, Down With Snark has the link.)
Let’s stipulate in advance that “wussy” as an insult is offensive to many, and we shouldn’t belittle people by attributing stereotypical feminine characteristics to them. I didn’t pick the name, AOL did, so go complain to, um, Scalzi– he blogs for them, and could use a reality check after winning the Campbell (which he richly deserved, and not just because he looks fetching in the tiara.). That’s what they called the list, and I’m stuck with their name.
So what about the songs? I’ll spare you comments on the full list, and just note that with a very few exceptions, it’s just a carnival of suck. I mean, “Sometimes When We Touch”? “She’s Like the Wind”? “Muskrat Love”? Yeesh.
The important question is this: Is this a useful and consistent category of songs?
Down With Snark offers the following criteria for ranking “wussiness”:
In fact, I think the wuss scale should go like this, from least wussy to most.
Songs sung to your current lover
Songs sung to your relative
Songs sung to your pet
Songs sung to your ex plaintively wishing they would return
Songs sung about (note, not to) someone you are not dating, plaintively wishing they would date you
Songs sung about (note, not to) someone you are not dating, affirmatively stating that you are not good enough for them (the “Swayze/Blunt Category”)
and the only two categories above Swayze/Blunt
Songs where you tell your current lover/ex/total stranger that you love them so much you are willing to never see them again.
and
Songs sung to or about anyone at all that contain some variation of “allow me to be near you and I will not attempt to have sex with you, and you can leave anytime you want”
While I think we can probably agree that those last two categories are pretty damn wussy, the list as a whole is way too broad. I mean, “Songs sung to your ex plaintively wishing they would return” catches about a third of the Motown catalogue, and a quarter of all pop songs since 1950. Does “Ain’t Too Proud to Beg” really count as a “wussy” song? (“Tracks of My Tears” I’ll give you, but it’s still a fantastic tune…)
I’m also not sure about the validity of the “about, not to” qualifier in a couple of those. This seems to be there to keep “Every Breath You Take” and Radiohead’s “Creep” from being on the list, and I think that might be cheating.
So I’m not sold on those criteria. Of course, I’m not sure that whatever AOL was using makes any sense, either– “Walking On Sunshine” is a wussy song? It’s upbeat, up-tempo, and has a brass section, fer Chrissakes. Liking it might be deemed “wussy” in some circles, but there’s nothing inherently “wussy” about the song.
(Also, given the heteronormative origin of “wuss” as an insult, can a song with a female lead vocal actually be deemed “wussy”? Is this something that Burt Reynolds and Jerome Bettis need to rule on?)
In the end, I don’t think the list as currently constituted is particularly useful, unless the goal is to remind people of just how many really awful songs are out there. But, hey, it’s an excuse for a blog post.
I haven’t seen this list. I gotta know. Did “Butterfly Kisses” win? ‘Cause I work with insects, and I can tell you one thing: Real butterflies don’t kiss!
Of course, anything by David Gates and Bread could give Bob Carlisle a run for it. Not only were they the kings of wimp rock, but even their happy songs were depressing.
I personally have no associations between “wuss” and sexuality. There’s nothing wussy about leather chaps and biker bars.
I thought “every breath you take” was more of a stalker anthem: “Oh, can’t you see, you belong to me” isn’t something that would be coming out of John Cusack’s boombox.
The list as formulated might be overbroad, but as much I love Motown, I would argue that Ain’t To Proud To Beg, Tracks of My Tears and it’s ilk are somewhat “wussy” in their lyrical content. We can’t let Smokey and the Temps skate by singing lyrics functionally equivalent to Barry Manilow just because we love them. Maybe a better way to say it is those songs are “wussy” but they are also brilliant, as opposed to say Mandy, which is unintentionally amusing if anything.
As for “about, not to”, I think actually confronting the object of your affection is inherently less wussy than singing about them to yourself or no one in particular. Ergo Mandy and Creep, while wussy, are not as wussy as She’s Like the Wind. The list could have made the distinction more clear, but I think it was long enough as it was.
I appreciate the careful read and the link.
I thought “every breath you take” was more of a stalker anthem: “Oh, can’t you see, you belong to me” isn’t something that would be coming out of John Cusack’s boombox.
I was thinking more of the “Since you’re gone I am lost without a trace/ I dream at night and I only see your face” bits, which are kind of pathetic.
As for “about, not to”, I think actually confronting the object of your affection is inherently less wussy than singing about them to yourself or no one in particular. Ergo Mandy and Creep, while wussy, are not as wussy as She’s Like the Wind. The list could have made the distinction more clear, but I think it was long enough as it was.
Ah.
As it was, there didn’t seem to be a place for singing plaintively to the object of your affections on the wuss scale, and that didn’t seem right.