Shea Serrano[Editor's Note: Shea Serrano sometimes writes about Why This Song Sucks, and sometimes about his hilarious and poignant life and times. Better put your shoes on because your socks are about to be blown off.]
Song: Miguel's “How Many Drinks”
History: This song came out and now they play on the radio a lot and so everyone is kind of realizing HOLY FUCK THIS IS BAD.
Atmospherics: Pretty perfect, actually. Airy but not too airy, immediately catchy but covertly hefty, and possessing a perfectly pleasant tempo. When it comes on, everyone's all:
Because with your brain off, it's attractive, and fits that sexy pattern started by “Sure Thing” and “Adorn.” (I think we were all just supposed to ignore that song about quickies.) Except, when your brain turns on:
Lyric Analysis:
Frustration; watching you dance.
Oh. Neat. Okay, so am I supposed to put on my rape shoes*?
*I don't think rape shoes are an actual thing. [Some joke about Rick Ross and Reeboks] OOOHHHH!
Invitation; to get in them pants.
Nope. Like, nope. I didn't send that. Or, but I did recently send out invitations to my sons' birthday party next month. It's a Skylander's party though. I don't remember anybody getting in anybody's pants in Skyland.
OH MY GOD IS THERE AN ADULT VERSION OF SKYLAND??? BECAUSE I BET THAT SHIT IS WAAAAAAY LESS BORING.
Come closer, baby, so I can touch.
Nah, bro.
One question: Am I moving too fast? Because I ain't leaving alone.
Feel like I could be honest, babe. We both know that we're grown, that's why I wanna know how many drinks would it take you to leave with me?
Geez.
Yeah, you look good and I got money.
I suppose it makes sense that you said I look good and that you have money because, yeah, you're not really that good looking. Have you even seen your head? It looks like a shallot.
But I don't wanna waste my time. Back of my mind I'm hoping you say two or three.
Three? Like, that's the cap? That's the end of the rope? “I would like for you to let me put me inside of your vagina, but, I mean, let's not be unreasonable — three drinks, that's what I'm willing to give you in trade.”
You look good, we came to party, but I don't wanna waste my time.
Is this from Shakespeare? Shakespeare wrote this didn't he?
Temptation; is calling your name. Sweet persuasion; baby, this is a game.
Ah, I see. It's a game, and in the game you measure out how much liquor you think a human's genitals are worth. Just like Monolopy with mom and dad.
Come closer, baby, if you like what you hear.
Impression; is what I'm making you feel.
Or maybe you're kind of making me feel like a whore. Hey, howsabout if you buy me a couple bags of Gardettos I'll blow you behind a KFC dumpster?
He just blathers on and on for four more hours saying the same sorts of things. (He mentions time being wasted another ten times, literally, which seems at least a tad counterproductive.) He continues:
If you do decide that you might be fuckin' tonight, what? More power to you if you do decide that you might be fuckin' tonight.
I think this was actually the tag line for a few women's suffrage marches.
Le-le-let me dig that out like a fossil.
Le-le-let you whaaa?
Two more times about the fuckin' tonight thing and then (mercifully) the end:
Let's go, shit. You only live once right? I mean, where's the fun in forever anyway?
Herpes are forever, and so was this song, so I guess you have a point there, Miguel.
Conclusion:
This song was totes [FART NOISE].
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