Great original theme music is a rarity, much like sightings of the Loch Ness Monster, Big Foot, and Randy "The Macho Man" Savage on current WWE programming. In another life, perhaps I would save the business as wrestling's best theme composer, but I don't think the galaxy is ready for that level of greatness. Like any wrestling fan, I want to hear a good theme. When I listen to a quality entrance theme, my appreciation for the industry and its personalities becomes greater than before. When I listen to a horrible entrance theme, I cower in the corner, ashamed of the audible product that the wrestling world produces before me. In the past, World Wrestling Entertainment got it right with memorable songs for D-Generation, The Rock, and Stone Cold Steve Austin. In 2009, what do they give us? I will help you find out.
Last month, WWE released their ninth entrance theme collection under the name of Voices. Wrestling music master Jim Johnston composed, wrote, and produced these voices. In turn, I shall hear them out. Judging from the evolution of his work throughout the years, I commend Jim Johnston for his ability to match colourful songs to colourful characters, though I have my concerns. For every gem that Jim Johnston produces, he creates a dud. He is no music superhero. While I know that the glory days of the Attitude Era are through, I think Johnston and World Wrestling Entertainment have the potential to turn their wrestling music ship around towards listenable waters. They will never match brilliance of the now theme, but can they at least be as great as the theme to the lWo?
In WWE The Music, Volume 9, mine ears will bare witness to themes for such superstars as Randy Orton, Jack Swagger, and Kelly Kelly. For those of you who have been following The Swerved, you are probably aware that I am not easy to please. I will give props--mad and not so mad--for songs that I deem worthy of repeat listens. As for the rest of them, I plan to be not so kind. I have a fine tooth comb. Let me scour this album to see if it is music gold, or a music abomination. Will you join me in my quest to find the audible, holy grail of professional wrestling? I hope so. I packed too many sandwiches for the trip. I don’t like egg salad that much.
As a quick note, music is subjective, but my views are gospel. Force my opinions onto others and I will shower you with many glorious gifts that cost up to and including five dollars. I know a good song when I hear one, so you should know a good review when you read one. Without further delay, let us stop. Let us collaborate. Finally, let us listen.
Randy Orton suffers from Intermittent explosive disorder (IED), which means that at random times throughout a regular day, he feels the need to kick a member of the McMahon family in the face. If I had this slow-paced, intimidating theme song, I would want to kick a McMahon in the face all the time. I would like Shane in the face as he uses the bathroom. I would Stephanie in the face while she feeds her children. As for Vince and Linda McMahon, I would kick of both of them in the face at the same time as they pretend to not loathe each other's company at the dinner table. With this song, I would not have Intermittent explosive disorder. I would have Frequent McMahon face-kicking desires (FMFKD).
For one, "Voices" is an upgrade from Mercy Drive's "Burn In My Light," an uplifting tune akin to the jingles of drug awareness advertisements on a Saturday morning. Hey, nothing you say can make me try these marijuana cigarettes. I don't want my brain to look like fried eggs for fried eggs are a scrumptious breakfast treat for all ages. The 2009 Randy Orton is like a slow-motion version of Stone Cold Steve Austin. Orton will kick your ass, ever so slowly. Me likes it.
Do you like to dance in sweaty French discotheques as sparkly townspeople in berets judge your moves from afar? Are you the kind of person who loves music that you cannot understand? Are you The Miz? If so, you will dig Maryse's Europop-inspired tune. In this song, a robotic French bread maker asks the viewer many a question, most of which concern the topic of Maryse's supermodel looks. If I learned anything from this song, I learned that robotic French bread makers are dependent individuals who require a second opinion from an impartial person in order to validate or deny their original viewpoint.
The next time Maryse shows up to your door, whips her head back in a sexually seductive manner, and asks you to fly with her to France to visit a bakery, do not go with her. You shall be tricked by the robotic French bread maker. Tell him his sourdough is not sour enough. He will end you.
The pipe organ is an ominous instrument, similar to a kazoo full of poisonous snakes and an oboe that has been touched by a really creepy oboist. When Kane debuted with manager Paul Bearer at Badd Blood 1997, his theme chilled my spine, despite the fact that my back was nowhere near the refrigerator at that time. With "Man on Fire," the old Kane and the new Kane unite to signal the entrance of the palest monster in World Wrestling Entertainment today.
In my opinion, the current version of Kane is either Casper the Ghost's shirtless uncle, or the Pillsbury Doughboy's shirtless uncle. No matter how you see it, Kane is the pale, shirtless uncle of a nephew or two. Every night before I go to bed, I pray that Kane will not burst through my door and Chokeslam me down to the underworld. My last pale, shirtless uncle tried to do that to me once. Guess what happened to him? I don't know. He's from an estranged side of the family. Our side wears shirts when we use the Chokeslam.
As a world-renowned, kung fu master myself, Kung Fu Naki offends me. To be honest, I am not offended by much. Sometimes, butterflies will flutter by me in the summer time and give me the finger, but other than those instances, I am a tolerant human being. In the case of Kung Fu Naki and his Carl Douglas-inspired theme entitled "Kung Fu San," I want to fight it. I want to fight it on a shaky bridge, one hundred feet above a bed of spears. I want to rip out its head, then raise it in bloody victory as the announcer declares me the winner. I know that I often criticize WWE's abuse of the nu metal entrance theme, but if "Kung Fu San” is the alternative, bring me Papa Roach. In fact, bring me his lady friend, Mama Roach.
At one point in the song, Karl Jenkins claims that "you gotta believe he (Kung Fu Naki) wasn't born in Milwaukee." I don't have to believe anything you say, "Dice Raw." Kung Fu Naki lived in Milwaukee for three years. He worked at a cheese factory. He was much happier there. Believe you me, Karl Jenkins.
Kelly Kelly is the tambourine player of my family band, yet she never tells me the truth about her theme song. One day, as we ran sound checks in the grass mountains of Switzerland, I asked Kelly Kelly about "Holla." I said, "Are you sure your song starts with the words 'Holla, Holla, Holla,' Kelly? It sure sounds like 'Hello, Hello, Hello.'" In response, Kelly rolled her eyes at me. You know how stubborn passionate lovers can be. What a tambourine playing harlot. I will forgive her, but I don't know where her tambourine has been. Did Test touch it? Gross, sick, sickly gross, and grossly sick.
Kelly Kelly's "Holla" mixes the poppy sounds of Britney Spears, Christina Aguilera, and S Club 7 into one catchy, girly theme. The S Club 7 is long gone, but not for me, Broseph. Not for me. If I ran World Wrestling Entertainment, S Club 7 would be rocking WrestleMania XXV. Triple H would join them as their eighth member. Their show, S Club 7 in Stamford, would be tremendous. Imagine eight Pedigrees at once, choreographed to perfection. You’re imagining heaven.
People over there, what's up? Apparently, Ron Killings likes to ask the same question over and over again, but he uses vague descriptions to do so. "Guy in the hat who looks kind of my friend Reginald if he shaved most of his beard, what's up?" In his raptastic song, R-Truth assures the listeners that they can get with this, and they can get with that. "Hey, there's that thing over there and it sort of looks like a round thing, but also a square thing, yet also a diamond-shaped slash hexagonal object. Do you wish to go there and do things over there with that thing?" I think I would enjoy this theme if he was more specific with his directions.
Whether you believe me or not, R-Truth is trying to trick us. I bet the moment you get with this, or that, he hits you in the face with a paint can on the string. Never trust a man who wrestled for TNA. Don't even trust TNA. Their initials will bait and switch you.
In short, Vladimir Kozlov's "Pain" is both a good and a bad theme. For the first twenty seconds or so, this song is marchilicious. Marchilicious def, marchilicious def, marchilicious definition make the fans walk in single file. I dare you to listen to the first twenty seconds without marching in a Russian manner. As for the rest of the theme, you'll be listening to typical rock guitar sounds. World Wrestling Entertainment should have looped the start of his theme. I decipher WWE's refusal to loop his song as an insult to my ears, nose, and in dire cases, throat. They could have had something special, but then they threw it all away to make life easier for themselves.
As long as The Swerved is around, they will not rest until they get it right. Vladimir uses his head to ram his opponents to death. Why can't WWE use their heads to make a listenable theme for him? Unbelievable, ladies and gentlemen. From this point forward, Kozlov will sport an expression of disgust.
Oh, no they didn't. Shoot. World Wrestling Entertainment is Bollywooding "The Punjabi Playboy" up, and I can't get enough of it. The old Khali used the Vice Grip to finish off his opponents, but the new Khali uses his Vice Grip on the ladies’... lady parts. You know they're loving it. They can't resist the charms of the man from Get Smart. Khali threw Terence Stamp off a bridge, but now he wants to throw the ladies onto his bridge. I don't know what I just said, but I'm pretty sure it's perverted.
In my wildest of Indian dreams, I never thought Khali had it in him to show the world that he has low standards when it comes to women. In the end, he set me right. He set all of us right. His goats are taunting us right now. I hope you’re happy. Ranjin Singh's sideburns are DJing this taunting party. I don't know if we're invited, but I'm guessing we're not. Lake Huron, Lake Ontario, Lake Michigan, Lake Erie, and Lake Superior are five lakes, not rivers. We screwed up the secret entrance code.
Eve Torres was the winner of the 2007 WWE Diva Search. What has she done since her victory? She has looked good. Michelle McCool has several problems with Eve, but most of all, she is jealous that Eve looks good. When wrestling fans try to fish for compliments for Eve, they must admit that for the majority of time she has been with WWE, she has looked good.
For me, I cannot claim that she looks bad for that would be a lie. What about her wrestling talent, you ask? Well, she looks good. What about her personality and charisma, you say? Once again, she looks good. As the sun sets over the horizon, and day turns into night, Eve's appearance will tell you many facts about her. Fact number one: she looks good. Fact number two: when she looks good, people tell her that she looks good. Fact number three: in reaction to her bland alternative rock theme, she looks good. Simply put, Eve is tremendous. Also, she looks good.
Jack Swagger, the current ECW Champion, is the face of a brand that boasts a total roster of over ten wrestlers. Therefore, Jack Swagger is the best ECW Champion of a brand that boasts a total of over ten wrestlers that I have ever seen. If Rage Against the Machine fought for All-American Americans and not worthy causes in a rocking way, you would get Age Against the Machine and their song entitled "Get On Your Knees." Like Mary Tyler Moore, Jack Swagger can turn the world on with his smile. I would not say he's particularly talented on the microphone, but with a smile like that, does it matter?
In the fairytale in my head, the Cheshire Cat from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland had an interspecies relationship with Gary Busey. Together, they brought Jack Swagger into the world. Why ruin his ascent to the top of WWE with a bad theme when you can listen to a second-rate, carbon copy of Rage Against the Machine? Throw your title in the air, Swagger. You’re a single, working woman in New York City. The belt doesn't look oversized at all.
I'm going to say it. I'm just going to say it. Smackdown's "If You Rock Like Me" is the type of song that comes after "Burn In My Light" in the Saturday morning, educational commercial block. If "Burn In My Light" urges children not to smoke dope, "If You Rock Like Me" teaches little girls and boys to stand up for themselves by walking away from a fight. Those bullies aren't worth the bloody knuckles, Tobias. Keep your head up and your fists down. When you feel as though you are in trouble, inform a teacher or parental guardian.
I'm not a Marilyn Manson fan by any stretch of the stretchy imagination, but "The Beautiful People" was ten times better than this Smackdown theme. I don't want WWE to entertain and educate me at the same time. I want to take on those bullies, man. They took my sesame seed crackers. They took all of them. They must pay with their young lives.
The Samoan Bulldozer is back and more Samoan and bulldozer-y than ever before. Umaga's "Tribal Trouble" is such an exotic theme that it reminds me of my excursion to the isle of Samoa. I met many professional wrestlers in the isle of Samoa, most of whom did not know how to speak English. In order to respond to English questions, they would crack one coconut shell open for yes, and two coconut shells for no. Although some had excellent motor skills, they were poor players in the game of Pictionary. I would not pick to them to be members of my Pictionary team, unless it was absolutely, positively necessary.
When I left the isle of Samoa, the wrestlers warned me of a new performer who would take the throne as the greatest Samoan wrestler competing today. Umaga turned out to be that man. I thought they were talking about Prince Iaukea. They have television, but their programs are several years behind.
I never liked the name "Priceless," nor the theme. I get it, screechy entrance theme. They are priceless, but you know what? Priceless people, places, and things do not exist. Hence, Ted DiBiase and Cody Rhodes are not alive in my world. If they are, their suggested retailed price is reasonable at best and costly at worst. In this economy, prices tend to fluctuate, much like the existence of Ted DiBiase and Cody Rhodes in my world. Now that the duo has rid themselves of Manu and Sim Snuka, also known as Manu and Sim Snuka, their prices have improved.
I estimate that the price of Ted DiBiase is thirty-five cents. As for Cody Rhodes, he costs twenty-four cents because he is lighter. Also, Ted DiBiase will star in the sequel to The Marine. I'm not sure if that increases his price of not. Once he saves John Triton's wife from another guy from the Terminator films, I will gain a better understanding of his exact price.
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