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your-dietician · 3 years

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The worst hit singles from 12 major artists | Arts & Entertainment

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The worst hit singles from 12 major artists | Arts & Entertainment

The biggest music artists of all time typically have dozens of hits in their portfolio, often so many that they can’t play all of them in concert.

But sometimes artists are so popular that radio plays their singles and fans buy them because of unyielding devotion, not artistic genius. While diehards will love even the ugliest child, it’s fair to say that not every hit song is equal. So we’ve picked our least favorite song from a sampling of major artists — what we consider some of the worst from some of the most familiar hit-makers.

Yes, in a way, we’re trolling those dedicated fans, many of whom will likely howl in protest over some of our picks. Unlike them, our devotion isn’t unyielding.

Melissa’s pick: “Die Another Day”

There have been numerous worthy James Bond theme songs this century, such as Adele and, um, well, OK, Adele. But Madonna may have kickstarted the string of recent forgettable offerings with her 2002 dance smash. If you’re into rote electro-stuttering and nonsensical lyrics, congratulations for perpetuating mediocrity.

Rodney’s pick: “Don’t Tell Me”

Most of Madonna’s hit songs have a catchy melodic twist and/or lyrical intrigue along the lines of “Material Girl,” “Vogue” or “Music.” Then there is this decidedly unmemorable ditty, which inexplicably peaked at No. 4 on the American pop chart. Even the song title is boring. A mildly countrified guitar riff is accompanied by Madonna sounding mildly defiant in a way that comes and goes with no emotional impact whatsoever.

Melissa’s pick: “Purple Rain”

I know, I’m ducking already. And I’ll concede that when Prince performed the title track of his 1984 soundtrack in concert, even the cacophonous guitar solo at song’s end exploded with vitality. But on record? A thumping slog.

Rodney’s pick: “Batdance”

The 1980s were a prolific period for Prince, including some of his most iconic hits that R&B and pop radio stations continue to play today. This song hit No. 1 in the summer of 1989 but is rarely heard for a reason: it’s basically a weird promo for the “Batman” movie. There are elements of cool songs embedded in here, but it feels cobbled together more for commercial purposes than artistic merit.

Melissa’s pick: “A Matter of Trust”

By 1986, Joel certainly earned the right to indulge in a vanity project, and this is his only hit to spotlight him on electric guitar instead of piano. Unfortunately for longtime fans, Joel’s pet project was manifested in simple, monotonous chords, a sluggish pace and a cringing attempt at Springsteen-esque grit.

Rodney’s pick: “You’re Only Human”

Billy’s best songs are romantic or parables of sorts. This is Billy at his preachiest. An original song he wrote for his “Greatest Hits Vol. 1 and Vol. 2” release, this top 10 hit from 1985 was a way to help young people with depression and thoughts of suicide so the intentions were good. But as a song, it’s both annoyingly chipper and lyrically flaccid.

Melissa’s pick: “Crocodile Rock”

Perhaps it’s due to decades of witnessing thousands of uncoordinated suburbanites attempting to dance while singing the grating “la la la la la” chorus of John’s first No. 1 hit (in 1972) in concert that has spoiled any enjoyment of this ditty. But the inanity and novelty song quality also contribute.

Rodney’s pick: “Can You Feel the Love Tonight”

John went through a 1990s phase of bland balladeering which sticks in my craw including “Circle of Life” and “Believe.” This is probably the most famous of that era, his “Lion King” cash grab that won an Academy Award and a Grammy. I’d take the worst of his 1970s hits (including “Crocodile Rock”) over this drivel any day.

Melissa’s pick: “Blood on the Dance Floor”

With production by new jack swing maestro Teddy Riley, the lead single from Jackson’s 1997 “Blood on the Dance Floor: HIStory in the Mix” album was originally slated for his 1991 “Dangerous” release. That explains the victim-heavy lyrics about backstabbers (prime early ’90s Jackson fodder), but not the middling funk backbeat. While the song only climbed to No. 42 in the U.S., it was a worldwide smash, proving that sometimes, Americans do have better taste.

Rodney’s pick: “Dirty Diana”

This song, his fifth No. 1 song off his “Bad” album in 1988, is about aggressive groupies and feels dark and dreary, with overdramatic guitar rock licks. Tell me where the actual hook is in the chorus. And the odd lack of percussive rhythm keeps it from ever finding its core essence.

Melissa’s pick: “One Moment in Time”

Look, I adore a good anthem. And this one is all about anthem-y things such as inspiration and pride in accomplishments (Houston recorded it for the 1988 Summer Olympics). But sometimes Houston’s schmaltz-ometer needed to be tempered and this was prime time.

Rodney’s pick: “I Have Nothing”

Houston during her peak was able to belt a ballad in her sleep. This David Foster/Linda Thompson tune from “My Bodyguard” is very prototypical Houston with her requisite dramatic flair but has always made me want to go to sleep instead. I suspect the excessive use of this song on “American Idol” has soured me even more on its charms.

Melissa’s pick: “Lover”

It’s a word that prompts all of the blechs, and coupled with Swift’s cooing delivery and the echo-y drumbeat powering the ballad, it results in continued wincing. Despite a killer bridge — which is becoming a Swift specialty — her breathy delivery of “You’re my, my, my, my love-ER” is straight-up icky.

Rodney’s pick: “Look What You Made Me Do”

This song was super impactful for many reasons when it came out in 2017 due to the lyrical content about her reputation and its obvious electro-pop vibe. But there’s a reason you hardly ever hear it on the radio in 2021. It’s less a viable pop song and more a treatise about Swift’s fame and how people perceived her at the time. Unlike most of her other hits like “Blank Space” and “Delicate,” this one doesn’t hold up well over repeated listens.

Melissa’s pick: “Bed of Roses”

Even hardcore Bon Jovi fans (hand raised) will admit that the band’s ’90s-era ballads were brutal (see Rodney’s choice to further solidify). But between Jon Bon Jovi’s cliched Romeo routine and one of the most ludicrous lyrics in rock history — “I wake up and French kiss the morning” — this one is unlistenable.

Rodney’s pick: “Always”

This power ballad about someone who sounds like a stalker hit the top 5 in 1994 but is largely forgotten a quarter-century later. Why? It’s so dull and shapeless, the lighter you’d raise in concert would refuse to ignite in protest.

Melissa’s pick: “Pour Some Sugar On Me”

Released in 1988, the Mutt Lange-produced track is inarguably Def Leppard’s best-known hit. It’s still horrible. Dopey lyrics and minimal use of the band’s copious musical abilities mar every bar. The song was a last-minute add to the “Hysteria” album. If only we had gotten lucky.

Rodney’s pick: “Let’s Get Rocked”

This 1992 top 20 hit feels like a ragged compilation of all their previous hits amped up to 11, led by a super cliched chorus and song title. It’s like Def Leppard color-by-numbers.

Rodney and Melissa agree: “Work”

Rihanna has said her broken, often half-hearted vocal style in this dancehall song represents her culture. But that doesn’t seem to explain the basic lack of a hook, a melody or anything resembling a coherent outline of a song.

Melissa’s pick: “One”

While I appreciate Bono’s sentiment that we can be simultaneously unified and diverse and while I will never disparage the charitable causes associated with the band’s No. 1 hit from 1992, I will also never be swayed of the opinion that musically, it’s a droning snooze.

Rodney’s pick: “With or Without You”

The opening single off U2′s most successful album “The Joshua Tree” from 1987 has a pretty solemnity, but after countless listens, I’ve lost patience with Bono’s overwrought delivery. In other words, I can easily live without you. Give me “In God’s Country” or “Red Hill Mining Town,” thank you very much.

Melissa’s pick: “Animals”

I have a visceral reaction to Adam Levine’s nasal whine, so truly any song from Maroon 5′s inexplicably extensive catalog is on my list. But if forced to choose one waste of four minutes of my life, it would be this 2014 hit laced with Levine’s grating falsetto and packed with high school-level sexual innuendo.

Rodney’s pick: “Moves Like Jagger”

It’s mind-boggling how many top 40 songs this band has generated over the past two decades: 23! This was their biggest hit of them all and possibly their most memorable song as well, given the Mick Jagger twist and help from Christina Aguilera. But this fangless song packed with whistling has none of Jagger’s actual swagger. Even Aguilera’s contribution is unmemorable.

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fieldsofplay · 7 years

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Top Albums of 2017

20. Protomartyr – Relatives in Descent

I put this album 20 for several reasons. One, it’s a great album. Two, they release these records every year and their inclusion is thus a little rote at this point, so it might as well just kick off the list as the official start to another year. Three, we can get politics out of the way at the outset. 2017. Woof. And we thought 2016 was bad. If any band is going to soundtrack the hellscape that is Amerikkka in 2017, it’s hard to do better than Detroit’s Protomartyr. No one is better at channeling our collective disillusionment with the political climate into raw power.

19. Lorde – Melodrama

I don’t know if I’m surprised by my embrace of this record or not. I’ll admit part of me found the idea of Lorde not all that interesting, and I never really bothered to listen to her first record. But as high culture and pop continue to draw ever closer to each other it would be foolish to ignore one of the true pop perfectionists while embracing the Beyonces and Kanyes with open arms. This album bangs. The beats are oddly reminiscent of late night Junior Boys vibes, with perfect pop sing-along’s about a night on the town laid infectiously over the top of those hypnotic beats. Whenever I hear “Homemade Dynamite” it takes days to get it out of my head (dy-dy-dy-dynomite).

18. Tyler, the Creator – Flower Boy

While many old acts dusted off their A-games and a few young guns broke on through, no artist this year was more surprising than Tyler. Long written off as a homophobic infantile flash in the pan, the least interesting member of a crew (Wolf Gang) that he single handedly launched, Tyler did a lot of growing up in 2017. Flower Boy is a testament to that growth. The hip-hop equivalent to former fellow crew member Frank Ocean’s Blond, Flower Boy is a kaleidoscopic trip through acid rap tinged with a hint of g-funk. While I never find personal politics compelling when it comes to artistic statements, the fact that the former gay-basher came out himself is important not for who he professes to sleep with, but for the giant emotional leap such an ideational 180 requires. Having come so far as an artist, I cannot wait to see where Tyler goes next.

17. TOPS – Sugar at the Gate

TOPS are perhaps the most precise band on this list. When left to my own devices I tend to gravitate to loose punk and dance music, and I am an avowed enemy of soft rock, but there is just something irresistible about this band. The whole thing never drifts out of a narrowly restrained emotional range, and yet at the same time remains impeccably locked-in, like a krautrock metronome played on a chintzy synthesizer. There’s a song on this record called “Dayglow Bimbo”; that’s all you really need to know.

16. Sza – Ctrl

With the exception of Kendrick I’m not sure who cast a wider cultural net this year, Lorde or Sza? Ctrl is one of those albums that seemed to cross all scene boundaries, if it were still the 1990s it’d be one of those cd’s that was in everyone’s car (like Californication or Sublime). Ctrl is an R&B record that is simultaneously chill and bumping. Sza sings, not to the audience, but as if she’s alone in her apartment, letting her emotions out to the music playing on the radio in the background.

15. Run the Jewels – RTJ3

Run the Jewels appear to be the victims of their own success. After two universally revered albums of mic passing mc showdowns that also managed to be locked-into their historical moment, album three was enjoyed and largely forgotten as more of the same. Perhaps this is my contrarian nature shining through, but I honestly like RTJ3 more than RTJ2, an album many embraced as the most important album the year it came out. Killer Mike and EL-P remain in top form, and the group is probably more relevant than they’ve ever been. “Call Ticketron” is still my go-to Friday afternoon ducking out of work early jam.

14. Kevin Morby – City Music

Like Protomartyr, Kevin Morby just puts out incredible record after incredible record, literally every year. For my tastes Singing Saw remains his finest work, but City Music has really grown on me over the course of the year. I caught him at the Turf Club and these songs really come alive in person. This album is more restrained than his previous output, but there is a certain beauty in its restraint. This album reminds me of another exquisite work of countrified city music, Bright Eyes’ I’m Wide Awake its Morning. The perfect album for wandering around city streets at night, wondering what it all means.

13. Brockhampton – Saturation II

I first learned about Brockhampton while waiting for my to-go order sitting at the counter at World Street Kitchen. Some of the local youths were talking about the new Jay-Z record so I decided to wade into the fray, throwing my hat squarely in the ‘I don’t really care about Jay-Z anymore’ ring. One of the youths responded he was too busy listening to this new collective of kids out in LA that were like a westcoast Wu-Tang Clan to bother with Jay-Z. Well, my interest was certainly peaked, and Saturation II did not disappoint. The album bristles with energy as the mic moves from mc to mc, all of whose individual styles vary but still manage to cohere into a definitive whole (is it clear I still haven’t figured out who is who in this crew?). While none of the sounds are new, Saturation II is definitely the sound of the future of hip-hop.

12. Vagabon – Infinite Worlds

This album checks all my boxes. Loud guitars. Thudding drums with liberal use of the cymbals. Quirky narrative lyrics. Sounds like it was recorded live to tape in someone’s backroom. (And its even got a super hazy synth song with a French title.) The chorus of the first track is “You’re a shark that hates everything.” A more aggressive Pavement. A less sad Bedhead. Bonus points for being vaguely from Brooklyn and having a great song called “Minneapolis.”

11. Kamasi Washington – Harmony of Difference

Following the three-disc sprawl of the aptly titled The Epic with a 6 song E.P. (clocking in at a very economical 32 minutes) felt slightly underwhelming at first. We are used to having so much Kamasi, it was something you could get lost in, like a Russian novel. However, while Kamasi certainly excels on the astral plane, this set benefits from concision. It’s one thing to write a novel and another to pen a short story. Kamasi is able to use his saxophone to portray both, sometimes within the same song –the opener “Desire” is both a mellow group cut and clarion solo, all within just 4 and a ½ minutes.

10. John Maus – Screen Memories

Of all the people on this list, John Maus is definitely the weirdest. In all honesty, his music sounds like it was made by Ross Geller, with one notable exception, it’s really fucking good. Often linked with Ariel Pink, I’ve honestly never really found them comparable. I find Pink’s music vapid and uninteresting, whereas Maus’ synth tracks are full of such life and oddness, all while remaining compellingly melodic. His baritone singing is less a vocal performance and more another layer of tone piled into the composition. Maus does more with stark base, futuristic (i.e. 1980s) synths, and rudimentary drum machines than others do with entire symphonies.

9. The War on Drugs – A Deeper Understanding

I honestly didn’t think 2017 was as good a year for music as some of its recent predecessors, but then I realized this album is number 9 on my list and I had to come to terms with the fact that the peaks of this year are incredibly high. A few years back Lost in the Dream was my number one album of the year, and I like A Deeper Understanding just as much. Over the years Adam Granduciel has come to perfect a sound obviously indebted to a few key influences, and yet a sound somehow entirely his own. Even though he’s a Philadelphia musician, Granduciel has somehow come to encapsulate the ennui of the late capitalist American middle west. These songs are haunting, filled with the charged emptiness of ambient music. But they are also filled with giant guitar solos that would put Jeff Tweedy to shame. I’ve seen this band several times dating all the way back to 2008. When I saw them this fall they were bonafide rock stars. I imagine this is what it must have been like to see Neil Young circa On the Beach. It was a treat.

8. Wolf Parade – Cry Cry Cry

Dear America, what gives? How come no one seems to love this record? Everyone seems to like it, but no one seems to love it. This album is great, and I won’t accept anything less. A band cursed by a universally revered debut and multiple equally successful sideprojects that split the votes of the true believers, Wolf Parade have somehow managed to be critical darlings, popular, and yet somehow are also underrated. Cry Cry Cry is to my ear arguably their second best album, which isn’t to say I was disheartened with Mt. Zoomer or Expo ’86. The new record has something for every member of the Wolf Parade expanded universe, the propulsive Dan fist-pumper (“Artificial Life” “You’re Dreaming”), the moody opener (“Lazarus Online”), and most importantly, the sprawling Spencer epic (“Baby Blue”). Wolf Parade were another bygone band I was fortunate enough to see in 2017. It was arguably the best show of the entire lot, and somehow it wasn’t a sellout. What gives, America?

7. Strange Ranger – Daymoon

Daymoon is my cause célèbre of 2017. Largely overlooked by the press, this is the most perfect fall album I’ve heard in years. It creaks. It echoes. It’s full of odd flourishes. “Haunting” is an adjective I feel is mostly misapplied but fits this album like a glove. I don’t know if there is actually a theremin on this record (or a singing saw) but it always feels like one is humming softly in the background. If you loved the Microphones’ The Glow, Pt II, early Modest Mouse, or Neutral Milk Hotel give this album a spin when you feel like taking a long walk in a golden post-harvest field, or at least feel like doing so in your mind.

6. Slowdive– Slowdive

This album has no business being anywhere near as amazing as it is. While Souvlaki remains one of my all time favorite records, it was always the exception, not the rule. As I learned from the great Pitchfork documentary, one of the reasons Souvlaki was so distinct, besides the inclusion of personal hero Brian Eno of course, is that the two front people in the band were in the process of breaking up while making that record. 1995’s Pygmalion was essentially an (uninteresting) solo affair, and that was it, Slowdive faded along with the shoegaze movement of which they were a central figure. Suddenly here we are in 2017, the band is inexplicably back, and almost more amazing is just how great a record Slowdive is. It’s like the follow up to Souvlaki was frozen in carbonite (timely reference!) and perfectly preserved so it could be unveiled 25 years in the future. If “Slomo” isn’t 2017’s best song, it’s certainly its most beautiful.

5. Daniele Luppi & Parquet Courts – Milano

To loosely paraphrase Ferris Bueller, I’ve never been to Milan, I’m not Milanese, what do I care about an album devoted to the city put together by an Italian composer I don’t know? Well, collaborating with Parquet Courts and Karen O is certainly an irresistible start. On paper the whole thing sounds like a mess, and yet the finished product is a taught 9 tracks that breezes by in 30 minutes like an alfa romeo. While I might not know anything about Milan, especially Milan in the 80s, somehow this album manages to evoke that place, or at least an idea of that place. A large part of this has to do with the arty coolness Parquet Courts have always exuded. They can emblematize any hip scene, be it Ridgewood in the 2010s or Milan in the 1980s. They just have that wiry sound and jittery energy that calls to mind fashionable afterparties and mountains of cocaine. While I love both of Parquet Courts singers, I never would have imagined that Karen O is actually the perfect frontwoman for this band, sorta like Nico and the Velvet Underground. Here’s hoping the Courts enjoyed working with her more than Lou Reed did with the German chanteuse. Give “Flush” a listen, I guarantee you start strutting.

4. Vince Staples – Big Fish Theory

Every now and then there is an artist whose debut is an instant classic, and then somehow manages to grow even further on each subsequent release. For this current generation, besides Kanye, that person is Vince Staples. Summertime ’06 was a double disc perfect rendition of classic LA hip-hop that was also a sneaky great album to dance to. Big Fish Theory is possibly the most formally experimental hip-hop album I’ve ever heard. If you cut out the vocals, it’d be an avante guarde electronic dance album. Throw Vince’s perfect flow over the top, and you have a Frankenstein monster of hip-hop and dance music that somehow manages to be a seamless union of the two. I’m still mad at my friend Evelyn for skipping this at Shrizz’ wedding this past summer. The nerve of some people.

3. White Reaper – The World’s Best American Band

I sincerely hope you like Cheap Trick. And not ironically. Like, you actually really like Cheap Trick. If so, I’ll be goddamned if this isn’t a perfect album of fist-pumping arena rock made by a bunch of basement punks from Louisville. If you don’t like Cheap Trick, well then, you just might not get why this is so great. Every track is a perfect nugget of 70s style power pop with just enough of a hint of punk to make it somehow sound fresh. In a year when I saw most of my favorite bands make triumphant returns from the grave, seeing these guys blow the roof off the tiny 7th Street Entry was probably the most fun I’ve had straight up rocking out in some time. I’ve never owned a jean jacket in my life, but this album makes me want to buy one.

2. LCD Soundsystem – American Dream

Now I know I’m a hyperbolic person. Every bar is my “favorite,” every track is the “best,” but I’m being legit when I say LCD Soundsytem are the most important band of my lifetime. I bought the self-titled album at a CD store on State Street in Madison shortly before leaving town and moving to New York. Sound of Silver was the soundtrack of my 20s. By the time they broke up my 20s were over and all my friends started moving out of New York. If I came of age in the 70s this band would probably be Bowie or in the 80s it would have been New Order, but as someone who gradually became an adult during the late 00’s, this was the most important band, not only to me, but to most everyone I know. It was of course also crucial that they were the official band of Brooklyn. They were there, as the song goes, and so were we. I honestly never understood the overwrought handwringing that accompanied their return. Are you really going to be mad at having more LCD in your life just because they once told you “that’s it, it’s all over”? American Dream is just as good as anything they’ve ever put out. I’d put “Other Voices,” “Change Yr Mind,” and “Tonite” up there with the best songs they’ve ever penned. Getting to see them tour once again, with both old New York friends and new Minnesotans, in a new town, in a new phase of existence, was the cherry on top of the electro funk sundae.

1. Kendrick Lamar – Damn.

People call him King, and it is a worthy title. Throughout music history the truly all-time greats always had someone who was their dialectical opposite spur them on to greater accomplishments—Beatles and Stones, Michael and Prince, Pumpkins and Pavement (not that either would acknowledge the other)—and now we have two titans of hip-hop pushing each other in radically different directions. Kanye is the pop perfectionist, the Michael Jackson, the Paul McCartney, everything he touches turns to gold. Kendrick is the flawless technical savant, he is literally the best, no one is better. Pick your favorite MC from throughout hip-hop history, they all have their idiosyncrasies and particular strengths (Rahim has technical prowess, Andre has speed, Q-tip has an inimitably odd flow) somehow Kendrick is better at all of all those things than all of those legends. No one’s voice is more varied, no one is a better rhymer, and no one has ever matched rhyme to rhythm this side of Shakespeare (that’s not hyperbole, well maybe Frank O’Hara). Just listen to the subtle variations in “Lust” that somehow tell a person’s entire day, an entire lifestyle, in a sentence or two. It’s not just he’s the best at spitting lines, he also has the ability to intertwine those rhymes into infectious pop structures. Kendrick has released 3 albums that people are aware of (and 4 overall), and those three are all amongst the top albums of the decade. Each one overbrims with classic tunes. “Humble” was the song of the year before Damn. even dropped, and the rest of the album lived up to the hype of that single. I’m still not exactly sure what “If I gotta slap a pussy-ass ni***, I'ma make it look sexy” means, but goddamn if I don’t love it and still perfectly understand it. This record is so good it somehow makes U2 cool. In a year where everything seemed to go wrong, Damn. was there to remind us that there will always be beauty in the chaos, so long as you don’t forget to keep searching it out.

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