Summertime Songs
Yet another music critic with too much time on his hands published a list of "top summertime songs" today. This one's from the Detroit News. Haven't seen it online yet, but the number three song was In the Summertime by Mungo Jerry.
It routinely makes such lists. And is there a more slimy, offensive, degraded piece of snot in the entire rock repertoire?
Just look at the lyrics -- no, before you even get to them, think about what kind of human being ends up with the nickname "Mungo." Let that image sink in, then look at the lyrics:
OK, Mungo, we know where this is going. But we're still wondering, exactly which bodily fluid does "Mungo" refer to?
::Choke, gag, gasp:: Ye gods. A paean to DUI. Go out with a snoot-full of Ballentines Ale and see if you can find a bridge abutment at 70 mph.
::Sound of record player needle dragged across vinyl at high-volume::
OK, that's enough of that. It's amusing to me to think of all the guys who were bopping to that in 1967 or whatever who grew up to have daughters of their own and discovered the urge to chase young men named "Mungo" off the block with a shotgun.
But one more bit of Mungo before you go:
That chill you feel is the grown-up '60s rock-n-roller suburban daddy shivering as he imagines what sort of nicknames Mungo's "friends" have earned.
It routinely makes such lists. And is there a more slimy, offensive, degraded piece of snot in the entire rock repertoire?
Just look at the lyrics -- no, before you even get to them, think about what kind of human being ends up with the nickname "Mungo." Let that image sink in, then look at the lyrics:
In the summertime when the weather is high
You can stretch right up and touch the sky
When the weather's fine
You got women, you got women on your mind
OK, Mungo, we know where this is going. But we're still wondering, exactly which bodily fluid does "Mungo" refer to?
Have a drink, have a drive
Go out and see what you can find
::Choke, gag, gasp:: Ye gods. A paean to DUI. Go out with a snoot-full of Ballentines Ale and see if you can find a bridge abutment at 70 mph.
If her daddy's rich, take her out for a meal
If her daddy's poor, just do what you feel
::Sound of record player needle dragged across vinyl at high-volume::
OK, that's enough of that. It's amusing to me to think of all the guys who were bopping to that in 1967 or whatever who grew up to have daughters of their own and discovered the urge to chase young men named "Mungo" off the block with a shotgun.
But one more bit of Mungo before you go:
If she's rich, if she's nice
Bring your friends and we'll all go into town
That chill you feel is the grown-up '60s rock-n-roller suburban daddy shivering as he imagines what sort of nicknames Mungo's "friends" have earned.
