I am in a coffee shop in Los Angeles writing what may be the cheesiest love song of all time. A duet to be sung in karaoke bars throughout the nation. Something so Tim McGraw-Faith Hill-esque I can see the future, hypothetical CMT video in my mind.
This was the silliest day I have had in a long time, in the best way. I laughed so hard all day long and at one point when I went to answer my phone, I was nearly incapable of speech and I had to do that thing where I pretended to cough to cover it up. It all started when AB was telling me about how she had translated the lyrics of a recently chart-topping hip hop song for a coworker. The song, This is Why I’m Hot, by Mims, is unquestionably the best worst song to appear on the scene in a long while.
AB’s friend had a hard time understanding what Mims was really trying to say with his lyrics, so she very helpfully and brilliantly spreadsheeted a translation for him. When she sent it to me today, we spent some time researching one or two elements, and had pamie proofread it, and then I had to go to the ER and get oxygen, because I was almost literally sick from laughing. Download it here and try not to die. Note: there was some discussion of whether or not he says “Compton to Hollywood”or “coppin’ a Hollywood” (which is what the lyrics site claimed) and Pam submitted that it very well might be the latter since, as she said very seriously: “Well, it’s not much distance between Compton and Hollywood. It’s a pretty small section of LA, really. But I suppose he ain’t gonna chop no bird in the valley — although, if you’re going to talk about feathered friends and cocaine, you might want to do it in EAGLE ROCK.” Good one, Pam. At this point, we were analyzing the thing like it was freshmen English and we were all smoking cloves in a coffee house. Is Mims struggling against society? Thumbing his nose at his hood upbringing? Breaking the bonds of The Man? No… he’s pretty much just listing the ways in which he is hot. Well, in that case, is it so simple, it’s genius? I wish.
One day I will spend 90 hours writing about hip hop and R&B how messed up it is (especially the latter — R&B is ruined), and how Dre needs to come in and blow it all up and start over, but today I merely need to let this song illustrate my point. Writing braggadocious rhymes is what it’s all about, I realize that — but a song about how you’re so good, you’re a rapper who doesn’t have to rap? And I worry that the lyrics I am trying to write right now are “too obvious?” And Mims has released this song as a follow up to an earlier tune in which he boasted that he needed only thirty minutes to satisfy various women named Tia, Tamia, Shakia, and Dania? In which he also referenced Blue Cantrell? And he’s so rich he’s wearing a diamond encrusted logo of some kind in his teeth? This is why I’m stupid.
Here, I couldn’t stop myself. I wrote a new verse to This Is Why I’m Actually, Literally Hot (Is It Hot in Here?).
This is why I’m hot(x2)
This is why(x2) uh
This is why I’m hot (uh)
This is why I’m hot(x2) whoo
This is why(x2)
This is why I’m hot
I’m hot coz I’m wearin’ corduroy
You ain’t coz you’re not (mims)
This is why x2
This is why I’m hot(x2)
Verse:
This is why I’m hot
It’s 95 degrees
I’m wearin’ flannel shirts over heavy dungarees
I represent Gwinnett Co.
I got it on my back
I wish it wasn’t so hot
Why did I wear black?
I hate to feel so dirty
When it’s ninety-five above
Why did I wear a raincoat?
Why did I wear these gloves?
You’d think I would have noticed
There’s no longer any snow
I walked into the Waffle House
And fainted on the flo’
I need someone to help me
Style the clothes I wear each day
From Lawrenceville to Snellville
What will everybody say?
Next week I go to visit
Pamie in LA
She’s gonna wonder if I
Had a heat stroke on the way
And when I hit the Chao Camp
People say that I’m fly
Except for when AB
Puts her cig out in my eye
I ask her why she does it and simply she replies
[AB explains why she's hot, etc.]
Between now and June 1, I have to write about six songs. Two of them are big-time deadlines, not for my band, but for another, ridiculously talented musician who asked me to write lyrics for his as-yet-unwritten music. (The others I need to write ARE for my band and if I don’t get them done, there will be a revolt and Chinese water torture will be employed against me. I ain’t strong enough for that.)
Here’s the problem:
These two non-band songs I need to write are out of my normal realm of lyric-writing style. First, the lyrics I’ve written in the past normally come to me very quickly. I will hear a turn of phrase or something will occur to me at random, and I’ll make that the base of a verse or chorus. Voila, thirty minutes later, the song is done. Sometimes this happens three times in a weekend, and sometimes (like now) I’ll go months in between. The point is: it just happens. Nobody tells me to do it and, most significantly, nobody gives me any direction like “I need you to write a song about [whatever] that sounds a little like [some artist].” Until now. For this new project, I’m supposed to write lyrics in the style of this guy, who is very, very talented, of course, and beloved by many, but not someone of whom I could call myself a devoted fan. He does not write his own lyrics, I don’t think, but these words I need to write should be appropriate for one of his songs, if that makes any sense. Pretty words. Simple lines. Love songs about actual love, not lost love or dead love or sad love. No twists or clever reference required. Very straightforward “I love you, here are the reasons” type songs. Can I even do that? Honestly, I am very happily in love — my marriage, thus far, has only gotten better and better — but it just seems so… obvious to write a song about how great everything is. When I type it out like that, I realize how ridiculous and ungrateful I sound. See? This blog was a good idea.
How stupid is that notion, anyway? I should be writing about good things. I’m so thankful for all the good things in my life, especially the people I love. I feel good about it. Yes, I like dark songs because they are more dramatic, but hell, I’m embarrassed that the reason I can’t seem to pull off a nice love song is because… apparently I think I’m too cool to write one? I have to lower myself to write a song about being in love, which I am very happy to be in? What? I don’t want to be like that. I once saw an interview with Pharrell Williams where he said “at the end of the day, you’re the one who decides how cool you are.” He was talking about how much he loved being in his high school marching band despite it being a decidedly uncool thing to do at his school. He’s exactly right, of course. I resist writing what I view as nice little sweet songs because I feel like, I don’t know, anybody could write a song like that. But if anybody could do it, why aren’t they? Is it because those songs are lame? If so, why do so many people like them? I don’t have to like them to write them, do I? Not really.
Also, I don’t want to be like Lucinda Williams (no relation to Pharrell, ha! or…. IS she?), who I adore, but who has said in several stories that she’s incapable of writing anything good when she’s happy. I have often felt the same way, but I’m sick of that. It’s time to bust a rhyme up in here, and I don’t intend to get miserable in order to do it. I have spoken with other creative people about this, and my friend Pam suggested I visit museums or the like to spark my imagination. It’s a good suggestion — in fact, I always get ideas for songs when I am at live music performances. I have 40 receipts all over my house that I have used to scribble lines on in the dark while the band plays. The most recent one was at a Lucinda show, where one word kept occurring to me, and I wondered what I could do with it, so finally I borrowed a pen from a bartender and wrote it on a napkin so I could stop thinking about it: “crumbles.” Sure to get a mega-hit off that one. I wrote my favorite song of all time crouched over at trashcan at a Jayhawks show. It’s about an old drunk man crying himself to death in a burned down hotel. Yeah, good times, but for my current purposes — well, such things are not what you want to think about when you’re in the mood for love. Or happiness. Or… anything but total stoic misery. Y’all, I’ve got the corner on total stoic misery. That’s what I should have named this website. Too late.
Maybe I should fly to Vegas and watch endless Celine Dion performances until I am drowning in sugar. Or bombard myself with poetry of questionable quality on the discount rack at the book store. I’m not being a snob — I just don’t normally go for that stuff. Everyone has different tastes. Surely I can write outside mine.
Here’s the other problem:
This guy who wants me to write for him? Sort of a musical genius. Maybe one of the most talented people I’ve ever met. And he wants me to write these songs? (And possibly sing them, which I can’t even begin to contemplate yet, so I am ignoring that part.) I don’t even understand why, but I guess he thinks I can do it.
Conclusion: I’m stupid. Follow-up question: Why? Solution: Just write the damn things.
A website where I write about writing songs? You think that’s meta, or whatever you kids call it? Wait ’til you hear the song I write about this website. How do you like that?
And I will figure out how to close comments… now.
