Country music
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Let me say this about that.
I’ll just come right out and say it. I don’t get country music. I realize it’s wildly popular, but have you ever listened to the lyrics of this drivel?Â
       “I miss you baby but my aim is gettin’ better.”             “She got the goldmine and I got the shaft.”Not exactly Rogers and Hammerstein. I mean, these country music guys make millions of dollars by writing lyrics that would insult the intelligence of Fred Flintstone. How hard can it be?
True to my engineering background, I decided to conduct an experiment to test the difficulty of writing a country song. My experiment uses one of the most famous songs ever recorded for the ‘music’, and I have gone out on the street and asked ordinary people to…   supply their own lyrics. The country song used for the music was written by Ernest Tubb in 1941 and recorded by nearly every famous country singer since. It’s entitled “I’m Walking The Floor Over You” and the lyrics go like this:
        “I’m walking the floor over you,         I can’t sleep a wink, that is true,          I’m hoping and I’m praying as my heart breaks right in two,          I’m walking the floor over you.”Lame – lame – lame. A monkey with a banjo could write better lyrics. So, I selected five sets of new lyrics from ordinary people to test the difficult of writing a country song. The first guy was a cook and his lyrics go like this:
       “I’m carving a boar from the zoo,         And trying to put more in the stew,         I’m hoping and I’m praying that it won’t taste like a shoe,         I’m carving a boar from the zoo.” ÂOK, not great, but not bad for a cook either. My next subject was a 14 year old guy watching a group of cheerleaders during a basketball game. His lyrics reflect a condition every guy his age has faced:
        “Well, I hope I can score with that shrew,           My quest to get laid it would renew,           I’m hoping and I’m praying, I can pop her cherry too,           Well, I hope I can score with that shrew.”     ÂHey, give the kid a break. He’s writing from the heart. Well, some part of his anatomy. My next would-be song writer was Hank the handyman, and his lyrics mirror his blue-collar world:
                            “Im fixing this door with some glue,           And when I’m done I’ll paint it too,           I’ll fix it and I’ll paint it, until my face turns blue,           I’m fixing this door with some glue.”         ÂTrue Americana. I almost teared-up. Next, I ran across a rather gay gentleman in a posh decorating studio and decided to see what folks with an alternate lifestyle could offer. Better hide the kids for this one:
         “I’m re-doing the decor just for you,           And new curtains are overdue,           I’m hoping you will love it, cause I want to pack your poo,           I’m re-doing the decor just for you.”WOW! There’s a guy not afraid to give it to you straight (oops, sorry). Lastly, I ventured over to the seedier side of town for one last attempt, and found Andre’ the pimp. A pimp writing a country song – ya gotta love it:
          “I’m humping a ‘Ho with the flu,            I’m gonna soar right through her goo,            I’m hoping & I’m praying, I don’t die from this screw,            I’m humping a ‘Ho with the flu.”Conclusion? Country music writers are overpaid.
And, that’s all I have to say about that.
Shambo
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