OK, since this is germane, here was a list I did two years ago:

10 Worst Songs of the Last 25 Years

Bond songs that ruled: Goldfinger, View To A Kill, Live And Let Die, Thunderball, We Have All The Time In The World

Bond songs that sucked: All-Time High, the one Garbage did for the more recent one

Look, I've admitted that I listened to a LOT of hair metal. So I don't think I have to answer that question. And we won't discuss my shameful addiction to a current silly goth/pop metal band from Finland.

I wish we would, only because I'm so out of touch, I don't even get the reference.

Silly! It's the Best Bond Song EVER!!

Ah no. You were too young in the 80s, I think, to be picking on those who could have babysat you in the 80s. It's either Live and Let Die, or The Spy Who Loved Me.

Plus, bonus silly video.

"Bon. Simon Le Bon."

OK, since this is germane, here was a list I did two years ago

Now earwormed with "We are the chillllldren..."

WBTC annoys me as a song, but I'm not sure why its considered 'selling out'

'Cuz they didn't write it. They paid a hit doctor to write it. Pure capitalist pig out. Which is not my standard for musical ethics, but certainly was theirs during the Airplane era.

Y'all don't know from bad. You don't have any collections of song poems & MSR madness: "Send your poem in and we'll set it to music!" That's where you find the genius of bad songwriting.

Hec, what's MSR?

And I do know from bad. I *just* heard Dean Friedman's Ariel, over the weekend. [link]

Hec, what's MSR?

I edited a link in. It's the company most associated with setting your poems to music. They had a genius composer/keyboardist named Rodd Keith who did these cool, snappy arrangements to the most demented/sentimental/political lyrics evah!

It's the company most associated with setting your poems to music.

Do they still exist? The temptation to send in song lyrics by a friend's super-grrr!stomp industrial band and see what they do is pretty strong.

Launchcast is playing "Rio" for me. They must be lurking here.

My personal height of badness has to be "Run, Joey, Run," by an artist whose name I forget. It's one of those '70s pop songs I always call "angel music," with the ethereal ahh-aaaahhhhs swelling in the background. It's about a girl who gets pregnant, and warns hapless Joey to run, because Daddy ain't going for that.

The chorus is:

Daddy, please don't, it wasn't his fault
He means so much to me
Daddy, please don't, we're going to get married
Just you wait and see

It doesn't end well.