Dear Laurie Berkner,
This is not a song:
"I was sitting in my garden
When I saw a bumblebeeeeeee
He said his name was Oscar
And he went
buzz buzz buzz
ba-buzz buzz ba-buzz buzz
buzz buzz buzz ba-buuuuzzz
ohh Ohh Bumblebeeeee, can't you seeeee
It's just you and me
Ohhh One-two, ahh 1-2-3 GO!
buzz buzz buzz
ba-buzz buzz ba-buzz buzz
buzz buzz buzz ba-buuuuzzz
BZZZZZZZZZ
BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ"
Now, I'm sure you think it's a song, and you're probably making shitloads of money on the CD on which it resides, and CDs usually have songs ON them, but "Bumblebee (Buzz Buzz)" is not a song. You can maybe call it a "tune," or a "musing," or maybe even a "refrain," as in "PLEASE REFRAIN FROM EVER PLAYING THIS GODDAMN FEEBLEMINDED NON-SONG AGAIN!"
One thing it is, along with the other non-songs on "We are... The Laurie Berkner Band," is a GIANT MUSICAL SPIKE THAT WAS DRIVEN INTO THE LEFT HEMISPHERE OF MY BRAIN, MORE SPECIFICALLY BROCA'S AREA, FOR A GOOD PORTION OF THE 4 1/2 HOUR DRIVE FROM CHICAGO TO MICHIGAN! Holy shit, woman, you make Raffi sound like Pink Fucking Floyd.
And find a fucking second rhythm, will you?! Booma-chicka-booma-chicka-booma-chicka is not the only goddamn rhythm on the planet! Put down the acoustic guitar... PLEASE! Get an accordion or a dulcimer or a pair of fucking spoons. Mix it up a little for fuck's sake. Yes, "D" and "G" are very pleasing, full chords to play. But there are other letters. How about an F# minor?!
"But I'll bet your kids liked listening to it," you might say. Sure, they enjoyed it -- they were stuck in a fucking car for five hours. They would've enjoyed listening to Lou Reed's "Metal Machine Music." Dogs like eating shit -- that doesn't mean you should feed it to them.
Now, I'm not saying you don't have a right to make music. I think it's great that you're out there entertaining kids and I hope you're raking in the cash. (I don't blame you, really. I actually blame the friend of yours who one day said, "Oh, Laurie, you're SO talented, what with all those clever tunes you write! Hey, you know what? You should make a children's album!") All I'm saying is, smoke a big ol' bong and listen to some Robin Trower, or something... preferably "Bridge of Sighs." Listen to "Day of the Eagle" about 47 times.
THEN write a song. And don't put any fucking insects or dinosaurs or farm animals in it. And NO fucking onomatopoeia!
[And I know my kids write little songs about animals and shit, too, but you know what?! They're five and eight. It's still cute when they do it.]
Sincerely,
Crabbydad
2 comments:
Robin Trower rules.
Trower totally rules!
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