Backstabbers by The O'Jays

Disco sucks, man! Actually, disco was all but dead by the time I was born, but that doesn't mean it doesn't continue to haunt the airways and make me feel relieved that I was born in the New Wave era. I've always thought that 'Backstabbers' was quite a strange song, choosing to focus on the unusual theme of two-faced people - particularly pertinent to girls of a middle-school age, who are always turning on each other. That probably wasn't what The O'Jays had in mind, though. It wasn't until I looked up the lyrics to this that I realised just how paranoid these three men are - they think that someone is constantly trying to steal their women. I'm not sure, either, whether at one stage they're talking about literal back-stabbing - they make mention of long blades, "clenched tight in their fist". Sounds like it could all get very nasty - and looking at a photo of these guys, I think they could be quite tasty in a fight, particularly the fella on the right. Although I can't stand this song (you can almost see them doing formation dancing as they sing), kudos to them for sneakily slipping the words 'dirty bastards' in there at the end.

Crap lyrics: "Somebody's out to get your lady/A few of your buddies, they sure look shady."

Verdict: Although they also boarded the 'Love Train', this is more like the Paranoid Express...

(Thanks to www.dustygroove.com for the borrowed pic)

Light My Fire by Jose Feliciano

Was this what the Lizard King had in mind when he penned the lyrics to 'Light My Fire'? This version by Jose Feliciano starts off okay, a sort of Latin soul interpretation, but it needs to be cut off about half-way through. Why? Because for the latter half, Jose he does is chant "Light my fire, light my fire, light my fire!" rather insistantly. If he was a child doing that in the supermarket, he'd be given a slap and told to shut up.

Crap lyrics: They're the property of Jim Morrison, but "And our love become a funeral pyre" has always seemed a bizarre line.

Verdict: Jim would probably have only been more upset by the sight of Will 'big jaw' Young crooning this song...

Old Town by The Corrs

Although it's cynical to say, The Corrs would never have been so popular if they weren't so easy on the eye. With the exception of Jim, obviously, they are arguably the most beautiful band to come out of the British Isles. But their music is naff. Talk on Corners was a hugely successful album, and some of the tin-whistle pop songs from it were fairly tolerable. But the mere fact that they're Irish obviously made them believe they could cover a song by legendary hard-living rocksters, Thin Lizzy! Their version of 'Old Town' is a total mess, and sounds like a bunch of people who've never played in a band together, hammering away on their instruments like Animal from The Muppets (or Meg White from the White Stripes.) It made 'Summer Sunshine' - a cheesy single that sounded as though it should be playing across the Baywatch titles - seem like genius, and was a serious and offensive assault on the ears.

Crap lyrics: N/A - lyrics not theirs

Verdict: If they must explore their Irish musical heritage, they should probably try Dana or Daniel O'Donnell...

Sylvia's Mother by Dr Hook

This song always reminds me of 'Living Next Door to Alice' by Smokie; it's got that same desperate and depressing feel to it. I think it's probably supposed to be a parody on the teenage heartbreak songs of the early '60s, but it actually succeeds in being annoying on its own merit. Like 'Alice', it's about a boy who's losing a girl, but the boy in 'Sylvia's Mother' has the added complication of having to negotiate with the operator from the telephone company. If the operator kept saying to me "40 cents more for the next 3 minutes", I would either have to yell at him, swear at him or decide that I didn't care that much about Sylvia anyway. And the whole thing is so goddamned miserable and maudlin that it's hard to imagine that this painful phonecall is actually worth it; he should let Sylvia marry whoever she wants to, tell her patronising mother to shove it and start fixating on the girl who lives next door...oh, sorry, that's the other song, isn't it?

Crap lyrics: "Sylvia's mother says Sylvia's hurryin'/She's catchin' the nine o'clock train/Sylvia's mother says "Take your umbrella/'Cause Sylvia, it's startin' to rain"

Verdict: 40 cents for 3 minutes? Sounds like a bargain in the red-light district...

Mr Loverman by Shabba Ranks

Shabba Ranks is a homophobic idiot, so he is fair game when it comes to attacking his 'music'. The dark period in the early 90s, when there was an upsurge of interest in cod-reggae and ragga, allowed Mr Ranks to achieve chart success with this almost unintelligible love-song to himself. This is the man who name-checks himself in every one of his songs, and inspired a thousand wedding DJs to shout 'shabba!' between spinning the discs. Anyway, 'Mr Loverman' is a crap song, and the idea that Shabba could be the answer to any woman's needs - sexual or otherwise - seems highly unlikely. It would be a miracle if she could understand what he's trying to say anyway.

Crap lyrics: Who knows? 'Mr' and 'Loverman' are about the only words that can be distinguished. He ain't Morrissey, though.

Verdict: Should be banished to the ragga dungeon, taking Shaggy, Chaka Demus & Pliers and Inner Circle with him.