The deep end of "Weird Al"

Earlier this summer, I went through a spell of extreme "Weird Al" Yankovic fandom, during which I listened to every one of his 12 full-lengths and assorted non-album tracks I've collected. Granted, I've loved the man since I first heard "Eat It" as a snot-nosed kid, and aside from the Beastie Boys, he's the only artist I was really into then that I still follow today. Since Off the Deep End, I've bought every one of his albums the day it was released. I saw "UHF" opening weekend with my friend and my cousin, blissfully unconcerned that we were just about the only people in the theater. When I got a copy of Michael Jackson's Thriller for Christmas one year, I traded it in for a cassette of Al's Dare to Be Stupid, which was subsequently eaten by my cassette player and provided me with my first taste of disappointment via media crapout. Already on the lowest rung of the junior high social ladder (an overweight, unathletic, style-oblivious transfer student), I got up in front of my entire school and lip-synched his non-hit "One of Those Days" without a shred of embarassment. I watched "The Weird Al Show" every week when CBS deigned to air it, and I have "The Compleat Al" virtually memorized.

From the commercial low of Polka Party! to the unexpected popularity of Straight Outta Lynwood, I have stuck with Alfred Matthew Yankovic and have rarely been disappointed. Sure, he's given us a few bum tracks here and there, but the man has an unfailing knack for capturing a moment, each album a time capsule that becomes more impressively prescient as the years march on. Even when the popular music he pokes fun at is excruciating, his versatile band and proficiency with pop melodies contribute to countless lovable non-parody tracks that offset the dated dreck. His originals, many of which are so-called "style parodies" conceived in homage to certain performers or musical genres, are frequently better than the higher-profile direct parodies for which he is best known.

Now, some dismiss him as a lightweight hack who merely repurposes hit songs with food- and television-themed lyrics, like any potty-brained kid on a playground can do, and some just don't like him because they can't abide humor in their music. The first group is severely misinformed, while the second is comprised of humorless fucks who fail as human beings. Yes, eating and watching TV come up a lot in his songs, but I submit that these are effective ways for Al to address his primary theme: modern American life. Americans are usually preoccupied with what they are or aren't putting into their bodies, and they spend a lot of time propped in front of the tube, even as they complain about what's being fed to them. While he's taken at least 27 shots at egregious consumption and material hubris, Al's also addressed such contemporary hallmarks as tabloid/celebrity obsession and technophilia, while demolishing the trite boy-girl romantic notions of most popular music with even more mundane themes such as legal entanglements, medical concerns, riding the bus, getting a new pet, fixing the plumbing or buying home improvement supplies.

Finally, there is in Al the paradox of an eternally family-friendly performer who, while not averse to the occasional double entendre, has never sworn or focused on "adult" subject matter, yet whose work is laced with a morbid streak of glib references to murder, torture, suicide, S&M, incest and nuclear annihilation. I have long contended that Al's relationship-themed songs are among the most vicious in existence, and if they were not delivered in such a faux-serious and self-deprecating manner, would point to a songwriter more wounded, bitter and jaded than Morrissey himself. It helps to know that Al is a happily married dad and that he enjoyed a close, healthy realtionship with his family... few deaths of people I never met saddened me as much as those of Nick and Mary Yankovic did in 2004. It's also interesting that he lives a substance-free vegetarian lifestyle and has never done anything unintentionally stupid in public. "Weird Al" Yankovic is a rare squeaky-clean agent of subversion who remains popular and relevant yet free of ugly personal drama, arch and iconoclastic yet as silly and friendly as your favorite uncle.

As Al rolls out this summer's ongoing "Internet Leaks" series of mp3 downloads (the style parodies of The Doors ("Craigslist") and The White Stripes ("CNR") are okay, but the original "Skipper Dan" is catchy, smart and tragically hilarious) and a traveling exhibit about the human brain, I decided to pay tribute with Entartete Kunst's first playlist dedicated to a single artist. There's something from every album here, the majority are originals and none of them were hit singles, although many of them deserved to be (and a couple were actually blocked from commercial success by some sourpuss or another). It's a chronological trip through the deep cuts of his illustrious career to date, designed by a lifelong fan for the delight of both those who know his catalog intimately as well as those who only have vague memories of "Like a Surgeon" or "Smells Like Nirvana." We can't all be Close Personal Friends of Al, but it takes a real douchebag to hate the man.

"Weird" Al Yankovic (1983)

1. "Stop Draggin' My Car Around": On his first album, like that of many other greats, Al's accordion-powered musical vision was relatively unfettered by outside influences. Every song, save the obviously blues-based "Buckingham Blues," features the title character pumping away on his squeezebox, inserting it into all of the parodies in an ingeniously homemade manner. This is a great example, turning the Stevie Knicks/Tom Petty joint "Stop Draggin' My Heart Around" into a slightly less dreary portrait of a man plagued by perpetual towings. Al's monotone whine mocks Stevie's patented "mystical" phrasings, while the lyrics are full of hilarious details. Hand farts and a great accordion solo top it off.
Favorite line: When the nightclub owner tells him, "Your pants are groovy and your hair's OK," just before announcing that he towed Al's car because it's "so uncool."

2. "I'll be Mellow When I'm Dead": Another unique aspect of Al's self-titled debut is its abrasiveness, from the bloodcurdling screams he occasionally unleashes to the demo-quality indie recording of "Another One Rides the Bus," literally recycled from a live performance on Dr. Demento's radio show. The ragged-edged defiance makes sense, since Al came up through the college coffeehouse scene, trampling on the folkies' sincere pluckings with his maniac accordion attack. The socially conscious doomsday lyrics of "Happy Birthday" and the disparaging tone of "Buckingham Blues" and "Such a Groovy Guy" are on par with some of Dead Kennedys' most caustic gallows humor. But "Mellow" is the most punk thing he's ever done, a gleeful and snotty middle finger to the vacuous hippie-turned-yuppie trendsters that littered California in the early '80s. Nowadays, when he wants to make fun of a certain attitude, he tends to sing from the perspective of someone who holds it. Here, I think it's the real "Weird Al," musically paying tribute to no one, allowing himself to be candid thanks to his naïve youth.
Favorite line: "Don't want no part of that vegetarian scene..." He only stuck to that conceit for about a decade.

In 3-D (1984)

3. "Buy Me a Condo": Al's only stab at reggae to date was probably my first exposure to the Jamaican tradition, since I got this tape when I was 8 and my parents were mainly into Mantovani and Donna Summer. The song is packed with brand names (Cuisinart, Tupperware, "the T-shirt with the alligator on") and other '80s status symbols, but the idea is timeless, an American immigrant seeking to divulge himself of his cultural trappings and adopt a new face in a place defined by what one owns. I always loved this song, even before I knew what "Rastaman" or "ganja" meant, because the music is so bright and lighthearted, and Al's chirpy accent sells its optimism. It was only when I got older that I understood its underlying sadness, that the jolly protagonist is burying his identity under a heap of expensive plastic junk.
Favorite line: "Ain't gonna work in the field no more/Gonna be Amway distributor..." It's so catchy and wrong.

4. "Polkas on 45": In 3-D was the album that broke Al to the masses, myself included, on the wings of his well-timed Michael Jackson spoof, "Eat It." From that track on, he proved he had stepped up the professionalism of his arrangements, now mimicking various musical styles instead of squishing them into his own accordion-rock template. Yet, perhaps to say he had not entirely abandoned his fleet-fingered roots, In 3-D also initiated Al's tradition of the polka medley, a glorious lightspeed mishmash of popular refrains juxtaposed to unfailingly funny results. On this first of many, the frantic polka setting takes the stuffing out of such classic rock staples as "Smoke on the Water," "Hey Jude" and "My Generation," while the casual interpolation of Berlin's "Sex (I'm A...)" and The Police's "Every Breath You Take" (complete with Spike Jones-style gasp-and-wheeze sound effects) finishes the job.
Favorite line: "I'm hot blooded/Check it and see..." The lounge-style setting of the shitty Foreigner track is elevated by following it with a Lawrence Welk riff.

Dare to Be Stupid (1985)

5. "Girls Just Want to Have Lunch": As a young boy, I had a huge crush on Cyndi Lauper. She was just so cute and weird and colorful, and her songs were catchy as all hell. I must have spent hours staring at the cover of my She's So Unusual cassette, and I was glued to the set every time she came on MTV. Here's a rare case of my childhood musical obsessions colliding, "Weird Al" taking on an artist I actually liked at the time. OK, I admit I was also quite into Huey Lewis and the News, who were also parodied on Dare to Be Stupid via the brilliantly stoopid "I Want a New Duck," but Cyndi's eternal "Girls Just Want to Have Fun" holds up a lot better than Huey's bar band bluster. "Lunch" succeeds mostly on its silliness, its lyrics not picking on any real behavior or attitude (basically, the singer is convinced that females are singularly obsessed with the midday meal), and Al's singing is unparalleled. He does it in this obnoxious groan that was probably meant to mock Ms. Lauper's charming nasal hiccups, but instead makes him sound like a crazed Muppet.
Favorite line: "I know how to keep a woman satisfied/When I whip out my Diner's Card their eyes get so wide..." I wish there was a video to catch Al's facial expression while delivering this line.

Polka Party! (1986)

6. "Here's Johnny": During this summer's aforementioned "Weird Al" binge, I happened to be listening to Polka Party! in the car with my girlfriend and a friend of hers. Neither of them recognized the song being parodied in "Here's Johnny," which is of course El DeBarge's horrible synth-pop hit from the corny robo-classic "Short Circuit," "Who's Johnny?" It struck me that given the original song's age and deserved obscurity, coupled with the fact that "The Tonight Show" has now had two hosts since Johnny Carson, the Ed McMahon-worshipping "Here's Johnny" would make no sense to the average 15 year-old today. Such is the trapped-in-amber nature of some of Al's work, which is usually dated by design, and some of which thus must become obsolete (like, sadly, Polka Party!, which is unjustifiably Al's worst-selling album). Not too long after I came to this realization, McMahon died... and right after that, so did Michael Jackson, whose ill-fated career arc I had been similarly contemplating thanks to the Al binge.
Favorite line: "Watch him selling beer and dog food..." I love how he reduces McMahon's fame to "Carson sidekick" and "commercial pitchman," as if that's all he ever did.

7. "Good Enough for Now": Boy, what a pretty melody, and what a cynical set of lyrics. Al hasn't done much in the way of country music, a blessing considering how much I hate big-hat country pop, but this and 1999's "Truck Drivin' Song" suggest he could get away with a whole disc of traditional country originals if he gave it a shot. This one especially deserves to be better known, a simple but hilariously mean song of insincere love to a hopefully oblivious Mrs. Right Now which might pass for a bona fide toe-tappin' country song if Al sounded just a little more Nashville. It's certainly funny, but doing without Al's usual over-the-top lyrical hyperbole, it also cuts a little closer to the bone, especially if you've ever found yourself in a situation like the one being described. For more of the man's skewering of the banality that is the modern love song, see the equally great likes of "Such a Groovy Guy," "One More Minute," "Melanie," "You Don't Love Me Anymore," "Since You've Been Gone" and "Do I Creep You Out."
Favorite line: "You're pretty close to what I've always hoped for/That's why my love for you is fairly strong..." Ouch.

Even Worse (1988)

8. "Good Old Days": This track comes at the end of an album that, aside from "Fat," was stuffed with parodies of cover songs. I didn't realize it at the time, but Even Worse accurately reflects that '80s "Big Chill"/"Back to the Future"/"Dirty Dancing" nostalgia trip that resulted in old recordings by The Beatles, Ben E. King and The Contours sharing commercial radio station playlists with Phil Collins' cover of The Supremes' "You Can't Hurry Love," Bananarama's cover of The Shocking Blue's "Venus" and The Fat Boys and The Beach Boys' double-team novelty cover of The Surfaris' instrumental "Wipe Out." "Good Old Days" harkens to simpler times itself, its warm and plaintive James Taylor-derived folk rock shuffle matching the lyrical theme of fond reminiscence. Yet, it is perhaps the darkest and most demented track in the entire "Weird Al" catalog, being the gentle musings of a homicidal sociopath.
Favorite line: "I'll never forget the day I bashed in his head/Well, you should have seen the look on his face..." I'm also very fond of the part where he shaves his homecoming date's head and leaves her tied up in the desert.

UHF: Original Motion Picture Soundtrack and Other Stuff (1989)

9. "Generic Blues": It's not much of a soundtrack, there isn't even a excerpt from the score on it, but UHF contains a strange group of parodies that evince just how stratified pop music was becoming, including his first stab at hip-hop (Tone Loc, unfortunately). It also houses some of Al's best-loved original material, from movie-based skits "Gandhi II" and "Spatula City" to the summer road trip epic "The Biggest Ball of Twine in Minnesota." Not heard in the movie, "Generic" is Al's second electric blues song, and is another relatively bleak number. Narrated by a loser wallowing in the depths of self-loathing, it's only the ludicrous extremes he describes that make it funny, the idea that mundane annoyances like forgetting his ATM pin crush his soul as much as "plagues and famine and pestilence" do. And despite the humorous intentions, Al got something right, since B.B. King allegedly considers this among his top ten blues songs of all time.
Favorite line: "Make it talk, son, make it talk..." Hollered just as Jim West launches into an annoyingly repetitive guitar solo, followed shortly by, "OK, now make it shut up!"

Off the Deep End (1992)

10. "Trigger Happy": Although he obviously leans to the left, Al's never been too pushy with his political views, so as not to alienate his paying audience. After all, parents don't usually like to pay for their kids to be exposed to views different from their own. Instead, he sneaks his opinions into tracks such as this, which might be misinterpreted by a particularly dumb audience as a red-blooded endorsement of unchecked firearm use. The difference between "Trigger Happy" and the somewhat similar politically incorrect stance of "I'll Be Mellow When I'm Dead" nine years earlier is that here Al is obviously making fun of gun nuts, but he's sarcastically playing the part of one. Couching it in a rollicking, carefree Beach Boys style parody seems oddly appropriate.
Favorite line: "I accidentally shot daddy last night in the den/I mistook him in the dark for a drug-crazed Nazi again..." Apparently, it's happened before.

11. "Taco Grande": Ah, the wacky "food" song, the sort of thing for which "Weird Al" is best known. On Off the Deep End's lead single, "Smells Like Nirvana," he took an atypical angle by directly poking fun at a particular musical performer to the tune of their own blockbuster, attempted to far lesser results on the following year's "Achy Breaky Song." "Taco," which guest stars Cheech Marin and uses Gerardo's Spanglish hit "Rico Suave" to sing the praises of Mexican cooking, would have been a more expected single, and in fact, a promo single was released, but there was no accompanying video or resultant radio hype. "Nirvana" was obviously the smarter career choice, as it lent Al some popularity in the wake of the underloved "UHF," but this track does showcase the man getting better as a rapper, a vocal talent he'd increasingly draw upon. If you want to hear something surreal, watch Pixar's "Ratatouille" and listen for the cover of "Taco Grande" by some Nashville studio guy. (For something really surreal, check out the commercially released Filipino dance remix of the other Off the Deep End single, the original ballad "You Don't Love Me Anymore.")
Favorite line: "Oh boy, pico de gallo!/They sure don't make it like this in Ohio..." It's purely the delivery.

Alapalooza (1993)

12. "Frank's 2000" TV": Released at a time when alternative rock was suddenly accessible and regular old pop and rock went straight into the shitter, Alapalooza is the low point in "Weird Al" history for me. I think it says something about the state of music that, for the first time, his lead single, "Jurassic Park," lampoons a decades-old song ("MacArthur Park," specifically Donna Summer's 1978 version) via contemporary film-themed lyrics, which happened again with "The Saga Begins" in the doldrums of 1999. This disc is pretty light on parodies, with only the Red Hot Chili Peppers spoof "Bedrock Anthem" worth revisiting often, and even the polka forgoes the more challenging medley format, being more or less a crossover cover of Queen's "Bohemian Rhapsody" (then in vogue thanks to "Wayne's World," but, again, 18 years old). The dealbreaker is the originals, which often save Al's discs, but here are awash in irritating synth-funk ("Traffic Jam," "Talk Soup") and obnoxious rock ("Young, Dumb & Ugly" and his worst song ever, "She Never Told Me She Was a Mime") that were already moldy well before their release. The pleasant jangle-pop melody of "Frank" has thus always been the highlight of the album for me, a bitter irony considering it's a style parody of R.E.M., one of my least favorite pretentious dinosaur rock acts.
Favorite line: "Robert DeNiro's mole has got to be 10 feet wide..." Hey, I said it was pleasing to the ear, not a laugh riot.

Bad Hair Day (1996)

13. "Everything You Know Is Wrong": As if to declare that Bad Hair Day was a far more creatively invested album than his last (boy, is it!), Al goes for total insanity on the disc's first original. I only had to hear about a minute of this song before I realized it was a style parody of They Might Be Giants, which sent me through the roof. Of course, TMBG was (and still is) one of my favorite non-metal bands, so I was glad to know Mr. Yankovic enjoys them, too. They Might Be Giants and "Weird Al" share plenty of traits beyond a constantly regenerating young fanbase, such as a fine ear for melody, a talent for good-natured sarcasm, a rarely-acknowledged morbid side and a distinct ability to outrage self-important booger eaters who want all music to sound like, I don't know, Throbbing Gristle or something. "Everything" is a series of outlandish vignettes involving freeway carnage, alien abduction, death by paper cut and "the floating disembodied head of Colonel Sanders" set to a caffeine rush of prime Giants sugar pop, the kind that gets stuck in your head and stays there, fueling your every movement, for days.
Favorite line: "And as I'm laying bleeding there on the asphalt/Finally I recognize the face of my hibachi dealer..." And he has prosthetic lips!

Spy Hard (1996)

14. "Spy Hard (Theme from the Motion Picture "Spy Hard")": The now-forgotten film "Spy Hard" starred Leslie Nielsen in one of his many post-"Naked Gun" spoof attempts, in this case a James Bond takeoff wherein Nielsen squares off against a robotically limbed Andy Griffith. I actually saw it at a theater. Directed by Nielsen's fellow "Naked Gun" series alumnus Al Yankovic and featuring his "Thunderball"-meets-"Goldfinger" theme song, the opening credits remain pretty great, but the rest of the movie is a steaming pile of crap. I am not surprised to learn that "Spy Hard" director Rick Friedburg has not made another film since, but it is kinda eerie that he was also responsible for the low-budget cult comedy "Pray TV," which is frequently cited as a predecessor to "UHF" and for which I distinctly remember seeing television ads as a young boy. The Bond parody was done better a year later in "Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery" (the sequel to which, incidentally, featured a similar classic Bond-type song by... They Might Be Giants!). Yet, as far as Al's non-album soundtrack contributions go, this one's a little classier than "Polkamon."
Favorite line: "By the way, if you walked in late/Allow me to reiterate/The name of this movie is 'Spy Hard'..." That Al, always so helpful.

Running With Scissors (1999)

15. "Polka Power!": As the last decade drew to a close, I had less impetus than ever to keep up with mainstream music. As far as I knew, it was a bland parade of overearnest pop rock, cheesy commercial hip-hop, toothless punk-lite and knuckledragging nü-metal. Therefore, I have come to consider "Polka Power!" as one of my major frames of reference for late '90s pop. Al's seventh polka medley, which was actually released as a single in Germany only, introduced me to a number of bands whose names I had read, but whose sounds had yet to profane my ears. I'm talking really foul-tasting garbage like Third Eye Blind, Smashmouth, Matchbox Twenty, Harvey Danger, Marcy Playground and Semisonic. Mingling these shit-slingers with such requisite contemporaries as the Spice Girls and Marilyn Manson, geezers like Madonna and the Beastie Boys and ubiquities like "MMMBop" by Hanson and "Tubthumping" by Chumbawumba, "Polka Power!" is one "Macarena" snippet short of being a flawless time capsule. From this point on, I'd hear a song at a store or a restaurant and recognize it solely because it was in a "Weird Al" polka.
Favorite line: "Ghetto Superstar, that is what you are..." Clarinets and Al's honky phrasing demolish any dignity left in Pras' only notable solo hit.

16. "Grapefruit Diet": Oh, damn, remember the swing revival? When white people in their '20s, inspired by the film "Swingers" and several other clever marketing conspiracies, started putting on zoot suits and driving their Oldsmobiles down to the new martini lounges, where they could not only dress and drink like their grandparents, but dance like them, too? Yeah, I also wish I didn't. But leave it to Al to salvage Cherry Poppin' Daddies' kitschy jump blues crossover hit "Zoot Suit Riot" with a continuation of the themes of "Fat," the once-proud tub o' lard now subjecting himself to a crash diet. The sad bastard spends the song making fat jokes at his own expense while running over a list of all the delectable treats he can no longer eat. In light of the swing kids' creepy materialist, cigar-smoking, tippling young Republican vibe, I think it's fitting that this parody is concerned with the purging of excess.
Favorite line: "No french fri-yi-yies now..." Al's call-and-response with the horn section never fails to crack me up.

Poodle Hat (2003)

17. "Couch Potato": If I had any respect for Eminem left in 2003, it was surely obliterated by his refusal to let "Weird Al" release his parody of "8 Mile" anthem "Lose Yourself" as a single because he was afraid of the effect it would have on his career. It's apparent no one told him that having Al parody one of your songs generally means you're a success, and that when he wants the parody to be the lead single from his new album, it generally means you're huge. I'm not saying that if the TV-themed "Couch Potato" would have had a hit video it would have affected Em's career at all (he seems to be handling its derailment just fine on his own). However, it might have gotten the darn good Poodle Hat into more hands. The lyrics are like a mix of previous parodies "I Can't Watch This" and "Syndicated Inc.," detailing all the programs and channels he's driven to watch, some of which he doesn't even seem to like. It's hard to believe some of the reality shows he mentions ("Celebrity Mole," "The Anna Nicole Show," "Are You Hot?") were on the air six years ago. Once again, Al proves that he's actually a very good rapper.
Favorite line: "Look, there's James Lipton discussing the oeuvre of Mr. Rob Schneider..." For all I know, this has actually aired.

18. "Why Does This Always Happen to Me?": Al has formed a few notable allegiances with other musicians (Rick Derringer, Wendy Carlos, Mark Knopfler, Ray Manzarek, Rob Zombie) and comedy greats (Cheech, Stan Freberg, Judy Tenuta, Mike Nelson) over the years, but he's thankfully not the kind of guy who stuffs his albums with gimmicky guests. He's had the same band since he started, beginning with drummer Jon "Bermuda" Schwartz, then longtime friends Jim West and Steve Jay (guitar and bass, respectively), with keyboardist Rubén Valtierra joining in the early '90s. This ghoulishly tuneful original is one of the exceptions, featuring piano-pop icon Ben Folds tickling the ivories for the tale of a self-absorbed twit who only responds to others' misfortunes when they inconvenience him. Al had previously directed Ben's "Rockin' the Suburbs" video, and later appeared on one of his albums. Folds is no mere dabbler in "novelty" music, having helped orchestrated Dr. Demento favorite William Shatner's 2004 return to the recording studio.
Favorite line: "Poor Rob, I just had lunch with him/Hey, wait a minute, he still owes me money, what a jerk..." It's meant to be an exaggeration, but I've actually known people whose sentiments could turn like that.

Straight Outta Lynwood (2006)

19. "Virus Alert": On the strength of the infectious Chamillionaire parody "White & Nerdy," Straight Outta Lynwood debuted at #10 on the Billboard 200, Al's highest chart position ever. The single itself, recorded almost as an afterthought as a last-minute replacement parody, performed better than anything else he's ever released, besting even "Eat It," and helped resuscitate his work in the eyes of mainstream culture hawks eager to write him off as a has-been. Hopefully, everyone who bought Lynwood stuck around past the first track, as it happened to be Al's best album in a while. While not the funniest track on it, this style parody of whimsical cult act Sparks, based on those jokey e-mails that make fun of alarmist computer virus warnings, is an unforgettable piece of bright, quick-shifting pop bombast. The album is a DualDisc that can be flipped for a DVD with animated videos for all the non-parodies, so it contains a video for "Virus Alert," made by the guy behind the dirty web cartoon Retarded Animal Babies.
Favorite line: "...It will/Translate your documents into Swahili/Make your TV record 'Gigli'..." A spectacular rhyme, and funny not just because it references the infamous J.Lo-Affleck bomb, but because it equates the increased ability to see it with calamity.

You're Pitiful (2006)

20. "You're Pitiful": Yeah, I think Eminem was a dick about not wanting Al to release "Couch Potato" as a single, but at least he gave consent for the recording.The world's foremost parodist doesn't legally need an artist's permission, but he always asks anyway, so as not to be a dick. I also think Coolio acted like a self-important bitch when "Amish Paradise" came out, but in that case, it seems it was a matter of miscommunication among handlers. This commercially unreleased track was left off Straight Outta Lynwood thanks to Atlantic Records, the label backing fey singer-songwriter James Blunt. In his defense, Blunt had no problem with Al's parody of his sap-crap anthem "You're Beautiful," but Atlantic refused permission. Al conceded and went with "White & Nerdy" as his lead parody single instead. As usual, who won? Best of all, since Blunt was cool with it, the free download of "Pitiful" (I think that's a fan-made "single cover" up there) became the first "Weird Al" Yankovic song exclusively distributed via the Internet, and its instant delivery beat the actual disc to most fans' ears. This notion has snowballed into Al's current series of online singles, which wraps up at the end of the month.
Favorite line: "You’re half undressed/Eating chips off your chest/While you’re playin Halo 2/No one's classier than you..." Al so completely inverts the intention of the original song, I wish some lite rock DJ would slip "Pitiful" into his playlist and devastate every hair salon and dentist's office in the listening radius.