Back With a Vengeance (Or, At Least, With Some Villainy).

[ The Year, she has Newed—& the resolutions have thus, well, resoluted. While perched atop a barstool in the back corner of Church, there to man Sidewalk Driver's merch table, having recently been mind-blown by their smashing cover of "Major Tom"—AKA, "Völlig Losgelöst," the (far superior) German version—I scribbled out the following list come 11:58 PM:

In case you can't read my impeccable handwriting, that's: wear more sparkly things, get enough sleep, suck less @ guitar, write more, stop being crazy, exercise semi-regularly, stay resolute

Note that, in a lovely twist of the Universe being how it so often is, "resolute" is the only word that got smudged.

Now, on to—wait for it—my first post in 875,000 years. Get psyched. (I know I am.) ]

For those who have yet to experience the joys of a collegiate Finals Season—or, for those who have since repressed all memories thereof, whitewashing them into halcyon oblivion in an attempt to regain control & general sanity—the process is essentially akin to hefting a large boulder up a down escalator, wearing shoes made of quickly-drying superglue & balancing a stack of plates on your head, while Alex Trebek yells Final Jeopardy questions in your face & shoots at you with a bebe gun every time you hesitate—& all of this, mind you, on absolutely zero sleep. It could not be further from "exciting," "fun," or "productive"—a time to severely overcaffeinate, laugh despairingly at odd intervals, dream up some creative voodoo with which to torment those ever-smiling student-slash-models on the cover of you school's treasonously propagandistic brochure of lies—& yes, accordingly, to whip out some Villain Songs.

Indeed, by the end of that week & a half of hatefully constant verbiage production, I found myself listening almost exclusively to villain anthems from cartoon movies. I think the reasoning behind this is twofold. In the first place, of course, Villain Songs are unfailingly the best in the film, as they are 1) patently, delightfully sinister & 2) campy as a camping ground.

Moreover, when unjustly put-upon & facing Greek tragedy levels of distress, it's not enough to sing in blithely unthreatening major chords about happiness & sunshine & predictably vanquishing evil. No, in times like these, you are at war with the universe & the travails it dared to throw your way—a motherfuckin' monster, a dungeon dragon, a bad bitch who will kick ass, take names, then gladly go back for more. Yes, Nicki has filled this niche in Finals-times past—but this particular bout was beyond the pale, requiring exceedingly evident levels of menace.

Because when facing so daunting a fate, you don't want to save the world—couldn't possibly. You want to rend it from its very frame, to upset & overthrow, not just color outside the lines but burn the book & eat the crayons. & the best way to do this, as it turns out, is to sing about it in a self-aggrandizing, plan-explaining 2-3 minutes of sheer animated badassery—or, at the very least, to sing along.

With that, here is a list of my top 10 Villain Songs for your perusal—to aid in times of Sisyphean stress, or merely, as they were intended, to entertain.

1) In the Dark of the Night (Rasputin, Anastasia).

Line of note: "Terror's the least I can do!"

Combine a vengeful reanimated corpse with a jaunty new-age rock chorus & what you get is holiest of holies, the ultimate conceptual ideal: up-tempo, major-keyed evil. It's the same brain-tickled feeling you get when listening to Morrissey's boppy morbidity—except even better, as it's not merely tongue-in-cheek, it's epic. Plus, in work mode, as endless words flow haphazard from my clumsily puppeted fingertips, I can ride that key-change surge & smirk, Come, my minions, rise for your master...


2) Be Prepared (Scar, The Lion King).

Rhyme of Note: "prizes" / "emphasize is"

Ranking this second was, of course, an achingly close call—because, as explored here before, I have a capital-T Thing for Jeremy Irons, particularly as regards his voice, the brooding rasp of which is showcased perfectly in this, the Platonic Villain Anthem. I mean, "In the Dark of the Night" rightly takes the title—I'm no flip-flopper—but God is this song ideal. Everything from the stretched-drum-tight rhyme scheme (see above) to the ominous trill of bassoon after the casually spat, "No, fool, we're gonna kill 'im"—& that little waver he does on the word "lifetime," the ensuing gleeful voice crack on "sen-sa-tional"... Chills, my friends, for which I don't think I'll ever be adequately prepared.


3) Poor Unfortunate Souls (Ursula, The Little Mermaid).

Line of Note: "...& don't underestimate the importance of body language. Ha!"

This will forever be known, at least in the brain of me, as "the song that made me say non-bile-laced things about the Jonas Brothers"—which you might think would sour me on it somewhat, but which in fact proves the utter & unruinable appeal of one of the most patently fabulous lyrical outlets of villainy around. Of course, it almost couldn't not be, given that the character design for Ursula was based largely on my doppleganger/spirit animal, Divine. Still, the song itself is also brilliantly off-putting—jaunty, jazzily plodding, again making expert use of that bassoon—& the expressive range of Pat Carroll's vocals spells nothing if not Diva, in the most delightful way. Also, you've got to appreciate a movie that has the bad guy (re: the one you're supposed to disagree with) spouting super-sexism (re: the It's she who holds her tongue who gets a man verse)—thus continuing Disney's delightful trend of sneaking strikingly blatant life lessons into catchy tunes. (See also: We don't like what we don't understand—in fact, it scares us—& this monster is mysterious at least, c. "The Mob Song" in Beauty & the Beast.)


4) No More Mr. Nice Guy (Rothbart, The Swan Princess).

Rhyme of Note: "zinged 'em" / "kingdom"

From my all-time favorite kids movie, no contest, no questions asked: The Swan Princess. Truly ideal on every level sonically, as well—a jazz-infused set of couplets declaring, in many creative (& very creatively rhymed) ways, the joys of viletude.


5) Oh, Ratigan (Ratigan et. al., The Great Mouse Detective).

Line of Note: "An even grimmer plot has been simmering in my great criminal brain!" tied with "You're more evil than even you!"

So, my guess is, you haven't seen The Great Mouse Detective. I don't blame you: like The Swan Princess, it was one of those off-brand animations from the mid-nineties that got all but lost amid the shuffle of Disney hits. Still, I highly recommend it, if only because it remained a staple in my VCR, long after it's deemed appropriate for children to obsess over cartoons. Though much of this movie's charm can be found in the non-musical moments—the sly Holmes references, the oddly dark & often actually frightening sequences—this is, indeed, a top-notch Villain Song, wrought with alliteration & pink champagne. Moreover, Ratigan proudly continues my beloved trend of wonderfully fanciful (re: queer as every last folk) villains—a primly accented clotheshorse who fixes his coif before beginning his big number, plucks his own harp for the tragic monologue portion, & proudly keeps a bow-bedecked attack kitten.


6) Prince Ali (Reprise) (Jafar, Aladdin).

Line of Note: "Where were we? Ah, yes: abject humiliation!"

&, speaking of queeny villains... Really, though: in this category, Jafar can't not take the cake. I mean, that eyeliner? Diva, please. Moreover, here he pulls the ultimate in catty villainry: parroting back the hero's main theme with an evil twist—& no small amount of snark.


7) Gaston (Le Fou feat. Gaston, Beauty & the Beast).

Line of Note: "I'm especially good at expectorating!" tied with "I use antlers in all of my decorating!"

This is one of the more fabulously absurd Disney songs around—the "no one x like Gaston, no one y like Gaston" paradigm wearing thin after, say, one or two rounds & quickly devolving into a game of "what can we lyricists get away with" (hence, say, the above mentioned "expectorating" quip). Still good for a giggle after all these years.


8) Mine, Mine, Mine (Governor Ratcliffe, Pocahontas).

Line/Rhyme of Note: "With all you've got in ya boys / dig up Virginia boys!"

Okay, so this Villain Song does get briefly interrupted by Mel Gibson adventuring about, but before & after that unwelcome intrusion, there are dubious rhymes & delusions of grandeur aplenty. Also, I can't help but notice that Ratcliffe bears a striking resemblance to Ratigan—the prim demeanor, the portly frame, the obsession with piles of shiny riches—&, for that matter, even to Ursula, to Jafar... There is a paper to be written here—one that I am 100% sure some grad student somewhere has stashed in their sock drawer.


9) You're Only Second Rate (Jafar, The Return of Jafar).

Line of Note: "You look horrendous in your underwear."

Try, if you can, to ignore the infuriating Robin Williams impersonator & focus on the fact that this is essentially a song composed entirely of capital-S Shade—proving, once again, that Jafar is the most fabulous queen in Disney showbiz, which is why she earns two spots in our countdown. Really, though—everything about the punchy brass & syncopated syntax make this song the ultimate "Oh no she di'int" of cartoon evil.


10) We Hate the Sun (The Duke, Rock-a-Doodle).

Line of Note: A flashlight!

Of course, this song has already made an appearance hereabouts, in service of exemplifying my love of organs in music, but it also functions perfectly well as a somewhat off-brand Villain Song—definitely epic, excellently orchestrated, & capped off with a snooty British accent.


Today's Headphone Fodder:

When not taking in animated villainy, I was busy subjecting my ears to a series of other tunes—what I can safely say is, by far & away, the single weirdest "pump-up" playlist in the history of ever, running the irony-free gamut from Johannes Brahms to Demi Lovato & back again. So, without further ado:

12-17-11: Sisyphean.
[ As usual, click above for the expressly convenient YouTube playlist experience of a lifetime. ]

The King of Carrot Flowers Pt. 1—Neutral Milk Hotel.
Exquisite Corpse—Hedwig & the Angry Inch.
Everyday I Love You Less & Less—Kaiser Chiefs.
Leeds United—Amanda Palmer.
Ever Fallen In Love (With Someone You Shouldn't've)?—The Buzzcocks.
Commissioning a Symphony in C—Cake.
Y Control—The Yeah Yeah Yeahs.
Jet Boy, Jet Girl—Elton Motello.
Poem to a Horse—Shakira.
She Moves in Her Own Way—The Kooks.
Tranquilize—The Killers (feat. Lou Reed).
Infinity Guitars—Sleigh Bells.
Him Dancing—Throwing Muses.
Shock Horror—The View.
The Wind Blew All Around Us—The Bevis Frond.
Jique—Brazilian Girls.
Girl Inform Me—The Shins.
Drinking Gasoline—Ben Godwin.
Gigantic—The Pixies.
Violin Concerto in D, III—Johannes Brahms.
Take the Skinheads Bowling—Camper van Beethoven.
Superheroes—Ruth's Hat (Rocky Horror cover).
212—Azealia Banks.
The Problem With Saints—Neil Gaiman.
Unbroken—Demi Lovato.

Okay, as to that last song: 1) not gonna lie, it makes for an excellent pump-up lip sync, & 2) when asked "why," followed by several interrobangs, on the ol' BookFace (Spotify, you traitorous snitch...), I provided this retort, which I believe still holds:

There are two possible explanations:
1) Stuck in the especial purgatory of an already-late 7-page analysis of Wagner & Barber as pertains to the Romantic Era, which my body seems to have developed some sort of physical aversion to finishing, I find her blithely despairing pseudo-sinister techno mundanity on mind-numbing repeat a welcome respite from tempo rubato & wheedling violins.
2) Demi Lovato is a genius.
Pick your poison.

I Am Okay With / Not Okay With: Derivative TV Edition.

Living in New York City—or, really, any pseudo-metropolis in our image-ridden age—one is often made aware of a new product or event or film by means of on-street advertising. In fact, especially in New York City, certain firms seem to delight in finding new & exciting ways to inform us about their product, which results in all unholy means of adhering the image to every conceivable public surface, such that the simple act of walking down the street turns into a battle against eyeball assault—until one is So. Very. Aware. of this particular item that one could probably draw the poster in question jot for jot, blindfolded, with the pencil held between one's teeth. Of course, the Annoyance Factor of this phenomenon is only increased when these images advertise something that makes one cringe or laugh cynically aloud or murmur clenched-teethedly to oneself, "Are you fucking kidding me?"

Two such advertising campaigns for upcoming television shows have caught been shoved into my eye as of late, & aside even from their prevalence, they have irked me especially because, in my humble estimation, within 5 seconds of glimpsing each show's campaign, any human with a functioning frontal lobe could recite its (oft-parodied, referential) One-Line Pitch. Such an extreme level of Immediate Derivative Recall sends me into a postmodern tailspin of truly epic & despairing proportions—so, today, I bring you our contenders for least terrible new show on the block:

It's Like The Sopranos Meets The Tudors With a Splash of The Godfather & That Guy From Lolita.

Picture Law & Order With the Structure of 24 & the Concept of Twin Peaks.

Now, I know what you're thinking—"But you love Jeremy Irons! & crime shows!"—but just go with me on this for a minute: it seems insane to me that, in an age when Working in Pictures is not only a viable, but a popular career, ultimately accessible as a cell phone camera—when film schools are churning out graduating class after graduating class, & everyone within 50 miles of Hollywood has a script in their sock drawer—we are still making movies from books, movies based on true stories, sequel after sequel of Marvel comics blockbusters. Of course, almost all of those are marketing decisions—if people bought the book, they'll see the film, & at least Iron Man has a fast-food merchandising tie-in—but still: it's frustrating to me that so much "new" onscreen fare these days is basically the result of past successful formulae plucked at random from a bingo roller. These two shows in particular strike me as especially abominable reconstituted Frankensteins, cobbled from old Nielsen data & stitched together with the apathetic hope that today's TV audience really is that passive—then garnished with that especial audacity required to put the word "original," plainly, on both of these posters. It's enough to drive a girl to frenzy.

However, in this little system I've set up, one must triumph—so, following extensive research, a few laughs, & some bitter tears, our survey says...


I Am Okay With: That Salacious Period Drama Showtime Has Been So Desperately Lacking.

It's funny, because perhaps the most hilariously period-revisionist explosion of Awful—the show that, upon learning of its existence, had me convinced it was a parody or performance art piece—really anything other than a serious, dramatic television program about a sexified King Henry the Eighth—yes, that show, The Tudors—is Showtime's own pride & joy. Now, it seems, they're following the good old "Well, it worked once..." formula & lumping on The Borgias—the apparent laziness of which is frustrating in & of itself, but also, it gets on my "period drama" nerve.

I really don't like period dramas. Or—well—revise: I don't like the prevalence of period dramas. I just think there's something fundamentally stuffy & silly about them, as if their creators believe they've cracked the code to high culture simply by virtue of being set in a time when corsets were still mandatory. I also think this particular kind of "racy" period drama is somewhat done to death—the attempt to prove that people have always been just as callous & base as they are today, that scandal isn't a modern invention—all of which ultimately could be reduced to a man in pantaloons shouting into a megaphone, "People in the past had SEX! Oh man! So much sex they had!" Yes, Television, we're aware: we were born, after all.

Anyhow, I suppose that's more of a personal peeve—&, ultimately, after doing a little digging (one nose-held Google search, having been retina-clobbered by that ad a few too many times for comfort), I discovered that the show was created by Neil Jordan, who is fabulous & behind many a film I hold dear. So, on the grace of director & star (&, golly, WHAT A STAR—that voice still slays me), I will let The Borgias skate through with a stamp of approval—& may even tune in, after glimpsing this hilarious set of GIFs.


I Am Not Okay With: Pacific Northwest Dead Girl Hunts That Exclude Kyle McLachlan Lynchian Bizarreitude.

Really, now: this trailer promises nothing even remotely as interesting as backward-talking dream sequences or salacious Canadian casinos—& you can damn well bet there's no body-snatching wildman to complete the whodunnit. Meanwhile, they're exploiting every conceivable crime show trope in the most banal way possible—&, honestly, even after Rizzoli & Isles, can we truthfully say that we're still interested in this kind of programming? Can't we just accept that the Law & Order Goliath has been felled, mourn a little, put on a brave face & find something new to make TV about? Please? (I'm looking at you, Law & Order: LA.)

Were this not enough, a quick scan of The Killing's Wikipedia page shows that it's the American remake of a Danish series that became popular in the UK. Yes, this is yet another Americanized re-rendering of a British phenomenon, which, in this case, happens to be a Danish take on American crime show convention—a clusterfuck of derivative sadness that is, clearly, not okay. Ugh.


Today's Headphone Fodder:

I feel it's only appropriate, after talking about derivatives & remakes, et. al., that today's musical offering be a cover. With that in mind, here are a few I've been (re)discovering lately—that, if memory serves, didn't make it onto the 55 Cover-splosion of months past (though such repetition would, in this context, be perversely wonderful...):

Zombie—Jay Brannan (Cranberries cover).

Personal Jesus—Johnny Cash (Depeche Mode cover).

Bang Bang, My Baby Shot Me Down—Paolo Nutini (Cher cover).

Maps—Rogue Wave (Yeah Yeah Yeahs cover).

&, the Champion:

Helden (Heroes, in German)—Rammstein feat. Apocalyptica (David Bowie cover).