The Creepiest Love Songs

Recently, a friend asked me to consider getting together to record an early Carol King song, “One Fine Day.”

To say I loathe Carol King is the understatement of the century. Her album, a “Tapestry,” was considered the end-all and be-all in the early 1970s, when I was in high school.

I hated it.

My religion teacher in 10^th grade plagued me with that album. She would use a song from it at least once a week as our prayer at the beginning of class. Rather than putting me in a prayerful mood, I would spend those agonizing minutes with fingers in ears in a way that she wouldn’t be able to tell.

Of course, when we were asked to suggest something as a prayer, I would volunteer some poetry from a Moody Blues album (at least I was wise enough not to suggest the words from the song, “Timothy Leary.”)

But back to “One Fine Day.” That song was sung by a woman with a similar sort of babyish brassy voice as Carol King’s, which to me is like nails across a blackboard.

And the words!

Shubee do wah!

It tells of a girl pining away for some guy to want her. In the early 1960s you weren’t anything if you didn’t have a man. All you could do was sit and wait (anticipate).

And while I’m not a militant feminist (see my blog for February, 2019), I have never put my life on hold waiting for someone else to fulfill it.  So, the words to the song would have strangled me if I’d tried to sing it.

Having grown up with the love songs of The Beatles, the surfer girl songs of The Beach Boys, and songs that demonstrated the roles of the sexes like “Walk Like a Man” by The Four Seasons, “One Fine Day” wasn’t so out of place – when I was 10.

With the exception of “Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weeny Yellow Polka-Dot Bikini,” that’s what songs were.

Then imagine my shock in 1967, when one of the songs released on the Sgt. Pepper album had the following lyrics:

I used to be cruel to my woman
I beat her and kept her apart from the things that she loved
Man, I was mean but I'm changing my scene
And I'm doing the best that I can (ooh)

What? MY cute, cuddly Beatles were singing about abusing a woman as if it were the most normal thing in the world? And it’s okay because, “You have to admit it’s getting better?”

What did the Maharishi and all those drugs do to my boys?

The Sgt. Pepper album was what made me walk away from the Beatles in preference to Herman’s Hermits and The Monkees. At least those two bands still sang the fluffy stuff that I loved. “Mrs. Brown, You’ve Got a Lovely Daughter” was about a guy pining for a girl who dumped him. And “I Wanna Be Free” may have been one of the first I-don’t-want-a-commitment songs, but at least he wanted to be friends. No beatings involved!

With the recent uproar about the Christmas song, “Baby It’s Cold Outside,” I started thinking about words to songs that are far more sinister (and I don’t mean left-handed!) than they at first appear.

While my personal belief about “Baby It’s Cold Outside” is that no one is being coerced; it’s a simple back and forth flirting song – he wants her to stay, she wants to be talked into it, or she would’ve left as she was free to do – there are more modern songs that, if you actually listen closely to the words, they’re creepy.

Take for example “Want You Back for Good,” by Take That. I’ve always called this song, Emotional Abuse. The music is very soulful and pretty. You can really put your heart into singing it. That is, until you take the time to think about the lyrics.

 “A fist of pure emotion” smacks (no pun intended) of some physical abuse that went on before the lady in question left. But even more telling are the words to the chorus:

Whatever I said, whatever I did
I didn't mean it
I just want you back for good
(Want you back, want you back, want you back for good)
Whenever I'm wrong
Just tell me the song and I'll sing it
You'll be right and understood
(Want you back, want you back, want you back for good)
I want you back for good

In other words, I don’t know what I said that you didn’t like, but I don’t really care. Tell me what you want me to say, and I will. And yeah, yeah, you’re right, I’m wrong (eye roll!). Whatever. I just want you back. I just need to win, because I’m in control – and don’t you forget it.

Perhaps I’m reading too much into the song, but it just takes on the same attitude as all of the TV police dramas where a woman is beaten, finally has the guts to leave (I’ve never understood why, after the first slap they didn’t leave) and the guy comes crawling back, promising the moon, fools her again, and the abuse starts over until someone’s dead.

Having been on the receiving end of some emotional abuse in my younger years, I’m sensitive to anything that sounds like one person trying to control another.

You may or may not accept that that song is about abuse, or even that “Getting Better” might be about a man changing his ways, rather than focusing on just how bad he was. 

And there are other creepy songs, like Blondie’s “One Way or Another,” which is the female version of getting even.

But in this age of Internet stalking, Social Media bullying and other high tech menaces, by far the creepiest song ever recorded has to be Sting’s “Every Breath You Take.”

Every breath you take
Every move you make
Every bond you break
Every step you take
I'll be watching you

Every single day
Every word you say
Every game you play
Every night you stay
I'll be watching you

Oh can't you see
You belong to me
My poor heart aches
With every step you take

Every move you make
Every vow you break
Every smile you fake
Every claim you stake
I'll be watching you

Oh, and in answer to whether or not I’d record “One Fine Day,” I could, although I don’t like the song. What I suggested instead – that people don’t realize I could also do just as well -- was “White Rabbit” by Jefferson Airplane.

 Yeah, I’m my own kind of creepy.