Am I the only person alive that still listens to the radio? I hope to God that I am, because I don’t think that any self-respecting human being should have to be exposed to the surfeit of crap that it delivers on a regular basis.
Radio has become an overabundance of everything that is so very wrong with today’s popular music. If you don’t believe me, just turn it on any particular station. Someone will be trying to lick, fight or ride with you at any given time. If you’re lucky you’ll get a special treat from rappers D-12 as they attempt to, ‘Shit on you.’ I’m not making this up! In their song with that title, there’s a lyric, ‘I’m not playing/ I’ll drop a squat on you!’ That may be the most classless thing I’ve ever heard in my life. And I’ve hung out at the Boston wastewater treatment plant.
I should stop being so skeptical. I’m going to drop the critic bit for a moment and show my gratitude for everything wonderful that FM radio continues to deliver me each and every day of my run of the mill, boring old life.
Dear Radio, thanks for giving me an erection – Love Ryan.
Who needs women, when, apparently my radio really wants to jump my bones; especially when I’m in my car. My drive from North Attleboro to Amherst consisted of two hours of flipping from one station to the other. Each pre-set station button I pushed was a different sexual act: Button 1: ‘I wanna, lick, lick, lick, lick you from your head to your toes. Button 2: ‘Imagine this, we were both butt naked/ banging on the bathroom floor.’ Button 3: ‘You and me baby ain’t nothing but mammals so let’s do it like they do on the Discovery Channel.’ Button 4: ‘Pinchin’ nurses asses as I’m jackin off with Jergins, and I’m jerkin, but this whole bottle of Viagra isn’t working.’ Button 5: A woman is faking an orgasm for the ‘Friday fake-out’ on WAAF. Button 6: ‘Hey, it’s Bi-Day here at WBCN. Now, Shelly, lick Shannon’s nipple, and stick your finger in her…’
At what point did the radio get a license to become an unadulterated porn distribution company? With Ludacris asking about my fantasies, the Bloodhound Gang doing it doggy style, and Shaggy committing shameless acts of adultery, the radio has hit an all-time new low level of sleaze; and I love every minute of it. It’s almost as amusing as watching Moby dress up as a pimp and flash gold chains at his twelve dollar hooker, Gwen Stefani. The radio really gets my thanks in this category though. It has taught me a very valuable lesson. Next time my significant other catches me nailing the next-door neighbor; I’ll step up and take the responsibility like a man. Or I’ll just say, ‘It wasn’t me.’
Dear Radio, thanks for playing the same song over and over – Love Ryan
Today I heard ‘Outside,’ by Aaron Lewis and Fred Durst 12 times. That’s 11 and a half more times than I wanted to.
Dear Radio, thanks for stealing my U2 tickets – Love Ryan
Here’s a question you may be asking yourself. Why does every radio station have U2 tickets and I do not? I’ve been asking it. It seems like every radio station holds one million tickets for the three U2 shows in Boston, but every person I know is complaining that they have none. It’s ailing to listen to the radio and hear, ‘Caller nine wins a 50 pack of U2 tickets, as long as you have the phrase that pays.’ Hey, I’ve got a phrase that pays for you. ‘Your radio station blows, give back the U2 tickets so that hard working people can buy them.’
I worked in a radio station two years ago; I know some of the tricks they pull. Firstly, ‘professional prize winners’ win most of the prizes. They are people who sit home and listen to every radio station with a specific procedure for winning. They then sell the prizes for a 100% profit. Secondly, when a radio station gives away tickets, they are usually the worst seats in the house. This also makes them the cheapest seats in the house, which means less cheap seats for people trying to purchase them. It would clearly be better for everyone if the radio stations didn’t have any tickets at all, and people just paid for them. The tickets would be cheaper, more available and the world would be a happy place. Oh wait, I forgot. I don’t even like U2, and it’s not a beautiful day, so shut up.
Dear Radio, thanks for playing the same song over and over – Love Ryan
‘Cuz I’m on the outside. I’m looking in. I can see through you…’
Dear Radio, thanks for destroying my self-esteem – Love Ryan
Ah, leave it to the world of hard rock to have nothing but confidence. For some reason, it’s become an increasing tradition to hate yourself, and in the case of Papa Roach, hate your father.
The top five most uplifting lyrics on the radio are; 5. ‘I got genital warts and it burns when I pee/ I tie a rope around my penis and jump from a tree/ You probably wanna grow up to be just like me?’ Eminem – ‘Role Model’ 4. ‘Mutilation’s out of sight and I’m contemplating suicide.’ Papa Roach, ‘Last Resort’ 3. ‘Cuz I’m a loser, and sooner or later you know I’ll be dead.’ 3 Doors Down – ‘Loser’ 2. ‘There’s nothing I believe in more than my own insignificance.’ SR-71, ‘Politically Correct.’…and the number one most uplifting lyric comes from a song you may have never heard before, 1. ‘Cuz inside you’re ugly. Ugly like me.’ Aaron Lewis and Fred Durst, ‘Outside.’
I love it that musicians are so happy. I’m beginning to see why today’s artists idolize Kurt Cobain. Not because he was a genius, but because he put a shotgun to his face.
Dear Radio, thanks for playing the same song over and over – Love Ryan
‘All this time, when I felt like this won’t end; was for you!’
Dear Radio, thanks for ruining my youth – Love Ryan
Okay, so this is the point where I explain to you where the idea for this column came along. Picture if you will; riding in your car and the DJ on your favorite local radio station says, ‘Coming up next is ‘Rapper’s Delight.’ Is your stomach swelling with anticipation yet? Mine was when I heard this. I waited through the commercial. I took deep breaths and prepared myself for the song that I used to worship.
Amidst all of the ‘throw your hands in the air and wave em’ like you just don’t care’ and ‘rip rop ribidy doo’s’ all I could think was; who’s terrible idea was this garbage? And, the part about going to the guy’s house and not liking the food. What the hell was that!
It’s so sad that it took ‘Rapper’s Delight’ for me to have some sort of shocking epiphany about the direction of pop music. However, I slighted myself of any discouragement when I realized that today’s music will never be made fun of. I’m sure that in twenty years, our children will have nothing but respect and admiration for ‘The Thong Song.’ Hey women, imagine telling your grandchildren about that gem? ‘Ooh kids, this used to be my favorite song. Whenever they played it at the clubs I took all of my clothes off and shoved my half naked, skanky rump in the face of some guy that I didn’t know. It was worth it though, because the ‘fine lookin’ woman’ who ‘backed that ass up’ the best won a free t-shirt!’
One important aspect to note is that radio is not the home of bad music. It’s the burial ground for good music. Most of the material played on the radio is stuff that I used to like. If you ever listen to Casey Kasem’s countdown, the song that is number one is always the song that was abundantly popular two months ago, and not anymore.
That seems to be the statute for American radio though. Obliterate quality with redundancy, while feeding innocent listeners with a demolition of society’s most beloved form of art. It’s something that I’d love to talk more about it, but there’s this really cool song playing right now that’s giving me a stirring urge to move to Biloxi and buy lighters.
