I Couldn't Sleep At All Last Night, A Compendium Of Disturbing Songs

indie darlings Death Cab For Cutie took their name from this bizarre tune



Innes' initial inspiration for the song was the title of an old American pulp fiction crime magazine he had encountered. Stanshall's primary contribution was to shape "Death Cab For Cutie" as a send-up of Elvis Presley, and he sang it as such. In the style of several early teenage tragedy songs, such as "Teen Angel", it tells a story of youthful angst: "Cutie" who goes out on the town against her lover's wishes. "Last night Cutie caught a cab, uhuh-huh..." She is killed when the taxicab she is in runs a red light and crashes. Stanshall, as lead singer, details Cutie's doomed journey to the sound of a honky-tonk piano, while the Bonzo chorus warns: "Baby, don't do it..." Stanshall repeats the refrain in true Presley hip-wriggling style: "Someone's going to MAKE... you pay your fare."

I've always been equally creeped out and fascinated by the Toadies song "Possum Kingdom" and it really all hinges on one word in the song....

Here's the lyrics:



The word that makes it all so wrong for me?

It's in the second line.... decide.

Here is a disturbing song from a Henry Rollins album. The only reason I had this album is because the bass guitarist is my own brother (Bernie Wandel).

agreed i always though that song was kind of wrong in one way or another, it's sinister undertones always remind me of Humpty Dumpty's death joke in Through The Looking Glass

`Seven years and six months!' Humpty Dumpty repeated thoughtfully. `An uncomfortable sort of age. Now if you'd asked my advice, I'd have said "Leave off at seven" -- but it's too late now.'

`I never ask advice about growing,' Alice said Indignantly.

`Too proud?' the other inquired.

Alice felt even more indignant at this suggestion. `I mean,' she said, `that one can't help growing older.'

`One can't, perhaps,' said Humpty Dumpty, `but two can. With proper assistance, you might have left off at seven.'

cool, i'm not the biggest rollins music fan, but i love his spoken word stuff

Hi Deej - you may have seen my parallel thread, and I don't think they're repeating the same thing. I think this fits it's in yours not mine. Disturbing lyrically but not musically.

Similarly

i think the idea kind of got messed up by the time zone thing (if only one didn't need to sleep)



Who lives in a house like this?
Who lives in a house like this?

In number 69 there lives a transvestite
He’s a man by day but he’s a woman at night
There’s a man in number 4 who swears he’s Saddam Hussein
Says he’s on the chart to start a third world war
Ohhhhh if you find the time please come and stay a while
In my beautiful neighbourhood

At a hundred and ten they haven’t paid the rent
So there goes the T.V. with the repo men
In 999 they make a living from crime
The house is always empty ‘cause they’re all doing time

Ohhhh if you find the time please come and stay a while
In my beautiful neighbourhood, my neighbourhood
My, my, my beautiful neighbourhood, my neighbourhood
My, my, my beautiful neighbourhood

Who lives in a house like this?
Who lives in a house like this?

In number 18 there lives a big butch queen
He’s bigger than Tyson and he’s twice as mean
In 666 there lives a Mister Miller
He’s our local vicar and a serial killer

Ohhhh if you find the time please come and stay a while
In my beautiful neighbourhood, my neighbourhood
My, my, my beautiful neighbourhood, my neighbourhood
My, my, my beautiful neighbourhood

Who lives in a house like a-this?
Who lives in a house like this?

They want to knock us down ‘cause they think we’re scum
But we will all be waiting when the bulldozers come
In a neighbourhood like this you know it’s hard to survive
So you’d better come prepared ‘cause they won’t take us alive

Ohhhh if you find the time please come and stay a while
In my beautiful neighbourhood, my neighbourhood
My, my, my beautiful neighbourhood, my neighbourhood
My, my, my beautiful neighbourhood

i can't find it on any map, but there certainly should be a place called Mayors Income, Tennessee


What's he building in there?
What the hell is he building
In there?
He has subscriptions to those
Magazines... He never
Waves when he goes by
He's hiding something from
The rest of us... He's all
To himself... I think I know
Why... He took down the
Tire swing from the Peppertree
He has no children of his
Own you see... He has no dog
And he has no friends and
His lawn is dying... and
What about all those packages
He sends. What's he building in there?
With that hook light
On the stairs. What's he building
In there... I'll tell you one thing
He's not building a playhouse for
The children what's he building
In there?

Now what's that sound from under the door?
He's pounding nails into a
Hardwood floor... and I
Swear to god I heard someone
Moaning low... and I keep
Seeing the blue light of a
T.V. show...
He has a router
And a table saw... and you
Won't believe what Mr. Sticha saw
There's poison underneath the sink
Of course... But there's also
Enough formaldehyde to choke
A horse... What's he building
In there. What the hell is he
Building in there? I heard he
Has an ex-wife in some place
Called Mayors Income, Tennessee
And he used to have a
consulting business in Indonesia...
but what is he building in there?
What the hell is building in there?

He has no friends
But he gets a lot of mail
I'll bet he spent a little
Time in jail...
I heard he was up on the
Roof last night
Signaling with a flashlight
And what's that tune he's
Always whistling...
What's he building in there?
What's he building in there?

We have a right to know...

There was a murder in the red barn
Murder in the red barn

The trees are bending over
The cows are lying down
The atumn's taking over
You can hear the buckshot hounds
The watchman said to Reba the loon
Was it pale at Manzanita
Or Blind Bob the raccoon?
Pin it on a drifter
They sleep beneath the bridge
One plays the violin
And sleeps inside a fridge
There was a murder in the red barn
A murder in the red barn

Someone's crying in the woods
Someone's burying all his clothes
Now Slam the Crank from Wheezer
Slept outside last night and froze
Road kill has its seasons
Just like anything
It's possums in the autumn
And it's farm cats in the spring
There was a murder in the red barn
A murder in the red barn

Now thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's house
Or covet thy neighbor's wife
But for some
Murder is the only door through which they enter life

Now they surrounded the house
They smoke him out
They took him off in chains
The sky turned black and bruised
And we had months of heavy rains
Now the raven's nest in the rotted roof
Of Chenoweth's old place
And no one's asking Cal
About that scar upon his face
'Cause there's nothin' strange
About an axe with bloodstains in the barn

There's always some killin'
You got to do around the farm
A murder in the red barn
Murder in the red barn

Now the woods will never tell
What sleeps beneath the trees
Or what's buried 'neath a rock
Or hiding in the leaves
'Cause road kill has it's seasons
Just like anything
It's possums in the atumn
And it's farm cats in the spring
A murder in the red barn
A murder in the red barn

Now a lady can't do ntohin'
Without folks' tongues waggin'
Is this blood on the tree
Or is it autumn's red blaze
When the ground's soft for diggin'
And the rain will bring all this gloom
There's nothing wrong with a lady
Drinking alone in her room
But there was a murder in the red barn
A murder in the red barn

Cold was the night, hard was the ground
They found her in a small grove of trees
Lonesome was the place where Georgia was found
She's too young to be out
On the street.

Why wasn't God watching?
Why wasn't God listening?
Why wasn't God there for
Georgia Lee?

Ida said she couldn't keep Georgia
From dropping out of school
I was doing the best that I could
But she kept runnin away from this world
These children are so hard to raise good

Why wasn't God watching?
Why wasn't God listening?
Why wasn't God there for
Georgia Lee?

Close your eyes and count to ten
I will got and hid but then
Be sure to find me. I want you to find me
And we'll play all over
We will play all over again

There's a toad in the witch grass
There's a crow in the corn
Wild flowers on a cross by the road
And somewhere a baby is crying
For her mom
As the hills turn from green back
To gold

Why wasn't God watching?
Why wasn't God listening?
Why wasn't God there for
Georgia Lee?

Jim White - THE WOUND THAT NEVER HEALS
Long about an hour before sunrise she drags his body down to the edge of the swollen river
wrapped in a red velvet curtain stolen from the movie theater where she works.
Quiet as a whisper, under the stanchions of a washed-out bridge she cuts him loose
...and watches as the flood waters spin him around once, then carry him away.
Then she removes the golden ring upon her finger...and she throws it in.
And I wonder; Baby why don't you cry? Baby why don't you...
Baby why don't you cry?
Three days later in a bar in southern Mississippi she meets a man by the name of Charles Lee.
She introduces herself to him as 'Lee Charles'
'What a coincidence.' he says...and one week later they are married.
He wakes up one night six months down the line to find her staring at him in the oddest way.
When he says, 'Honey, what's wrong?' she says, 'Oh nothing dear...except that tears are a stupid trick of God.'
And by the time they find his body six weeks later...Well hell, she's a thousand miles away.
And I wonder; Baby why don't you cry? Baby why don't you...
Baby why don't you cry?
She runs from devils. She runs from angels. She runs from the ghost of her father and five different uncles.
Blinded by their memory, seared by their pain, she'd like to kill 'em all...then kill 'em all again.
She don't think much about what she's done or the funny feelings that she feels. No, she don't.
To her it's just a condition she picked up as a child... a little thing she calls, 'the wound that never heals', she calls it, 'the wound that never heals'
And I wonder; Baby why don't you cry? Baby why don't you...
Baby why don't you cry?

jim white albums always seem like the soundtracks to drifter movies, folks piled into a 70's sedan and heading off into the desert sunset

Absolutely - he's got really atmospheric feel that he doesn't stray too far from - I discovered him through an obscure comedy gig in a run down pub in a gritty inner Melbourne suburb - they were playing 'One Eyed Jesus' while they set up the stage. I had to ask what it was. Otherwise I still wouldn't have heard of him.

a buddy of mine turned me on to him

Disturbing in a different way, from a different time:
This is just about the most disturbing song I know of.
The horror of the circumstances, the description & details, the way that Billie Holiday delivers the song .....
Just stops me dead in my tracks every single time I hear it.




Strange Fruit

Southern trees bear strange fruit,
Blood on the leaves and blood at the root,
Black body swinging in the Southern breeze,
Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees.

Pastoral scene of the gallant South,
The bulging eyes and the twisted mouth,
Scent of magnolia sweet and fresh,
Then the sudden smell of burning flesh!

Here is fruit for the crows to pluck,
For the rain to gather, for the wind to suck,
For the sun to rot, for the tree to drop,
Here is a strange and bitter crop.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Strange_Fruit

A great write up on the history of the song in last week's Guardian! Extracted from a book on the history of the protest song.

Was written by an American Jewish communist. The song was first performed by Billie at the 'Cafe Society' club in NY, in the late 1930s. The club owner had convinced Billie to do the song and it was always the last number, they would turn down the house lights and put a single spot on her while she crooned it.

Cafe Society had a mixed audience (with African Americans getting the best seats) the reaction was usually stunned silence followed by wild applause, and the odd walk out.

In the original the write used 'Bitter Fruit' - 'Strange' works much better, making the singer a more detached observer and changing the tone of the song.

yeah, that song freaks me out every time i hear it

not actually disturbing, but kind of freaky, Space with Cerys Matthews (from Catatonia), i love Cerys voice and welsh accent



What did I do wrong
Oh, you nearly drove me cuckoo
Am I really all that bad
You're worse than Hannibal Lector, Charlie Manson, Freddie Kruger

Why are we still together
Oh, I can’t leave you till you’re dead
You mean till death do us part
I mean like cyanide, strangulation or an axe through your head

It was lucky for us I turned the radio on
They say that music soothes the savage beast
There was something in that voice that stopped us seeing red
The two of us would surely have ended up dead

You stopped us from killing each other
(Tom Jones, Tom Jones)
You’ll never know but you saved our lives
(Tom Jones, Tom Jones)
I’ve never thrown my knickers at you
And I don’t come from Wales

Still haven’t solved our problem
You mean we hate each others guts
Still wanna poison your pizza
And I still wanna cut off your nuts

I’ve phoned the marriage guidance
I tied the phone line round your neck
I’m sick of all this hatred
Oh, that’ll be the arsenic making you sick

You were about to drive me over the edge of a cliff
As I tried to jump out I knocked the stereo on
You changed your mind and then slammed on the brakes
It was lucky for us we’d brought his greatest hits

You stopped us from killing each other
(Tom Jones, Tom Jones)
You’ll never know but you saved our lives
(Tom Jones, Tom Jones)
I’ve never thrown my knickers at you
And I don’t come from Wales

And now our war is over
I’ve lost the urge to break your neck
I owe my life to What’s New Pussy Cat
Delilah stopped me hating you and wishing you dead

Oh, I used to call you Satan
And you were Cruella De Ville
But now you call me your Delilah
And now I’m not your Lucifer
I am just your pussy cat

But just a word of warning now
Just in case we ever get tired of his voice
I know the Mafia, Godzilla, King Kong
And I know an atom bomb that’s going for a song

You stopped us from killing each other
(Tom Jones, Tom Jones)
You’ll never know but you saved our lives
(Tom Jones, Tom Jones)
I’ve never thrown my knickers at you
And I don’t come from Wales