Nothing at all weird about appropriating a term for a shooting someone with a gun – potentially killing them – to your weird, vineyard-centric romantic conquest. Nothing weird about that at all. Oh, Train. There are so many things heinously wrong about you I don’t know where to start. So let’s start at the beginning.
Part 1 can be found by clicking here.
Exhibit D) Hinder
I think it’s worth making a point here that pop music is not strictly defined by the trashy pseudo-skanks I’ve mostly talked about on this blog. For a good part of recent pop music history, rock has permeated the airwaves with similar pervasiveness; and usually for the worse.
Hinder’s particular brand of “One Nickelback just wasn’t enough!” rock brought them a myriad of enduring popular rock hits, leaving them regarded fondly as one of the greatest, most critically-acclaimed bands of the last decade. I’m sorry, I think I just slipped into a fever dream for a second there. Lips of an Angel is an unbelievably horrible song. It sounds like what might happen if a wrestling champion was secretly uber gay and decided to turn one of the poems in his heart journal into a song.
Except for the fact that the song’s narrative is ostensibly (thanks to the film clip) telling us that this guy has a girlfriend but he calls this other chick because he really loves her which is really confusing because she has a boyfriend?
Well, my girl’s in the next room
Sometimes I wish she was you
I guess we never really moved on
It’s really good to hear your voice saying my name
It sounds so sweet
Coming from the lips of an angel
Hearing those words it makes me weak
Hey maybe you two should break up with your respective partners instead of being colossal dicks and phone-fucking your ex? I mean you don’t have to listen to me, Hinder guy, but it seems like that is the thing that will stop this from sounding like a patriarchal ode to adultery. But anyway, beyond the douchebaggery, it’s just fucking LAME.