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Worst of the Best, Vol. 1: Stevie Wonder

June 22, 2010
Hey everybody! This is SeanSmyph. Co-writer and co-thought person of this whole Splackavellie Central thing. I’m starting a new series here called “Worst of the Best,” which will take a look at what happens when some of the best artists of our time fail and fail hard.  I’ll even make it a challenge. If you can find a worse song by the artist I pick…post it! Prove me wrong!

Number 1 in the series is none other than my own personal favorite artist of all time: Stevie Wonder.

Not familiar? Here’s a quick overview:

When Stevie Wonder was born in 1950, he shit a gold brick and decided to sing in the key of E instead of crying about it when doctors slapped him on his rear.  At age 8 he invented the rotary telephone, and at 13, he dropped a #1 summer jam and never looked back…literally and figuratively (Editor’s note:  *rimshot*).

Essentially, Stevie has done it all. He’s won 25 Grammy Awards since 1973; he reinvented the birthday song for Martin Luther King, Jr. and gave your aunt Maureen something to sing right after “the other” birthday song is finished; and he started a fashion trend by popularizing being bald as hell but still having dreadlocks (aka – the dread mullet). Don’t believe me? Look at him.  And him. See? Fashion.  Perhaps his biggest misstep was having bad friends who dressed him in things like this:

Where my friends at!? WHERE THEY AT!?! BIRDS NIGGA! BIRDS!

Is he holding a headless bird??

But its STEVIE! Fur and all, don’t nobody say nothin’ bad about Stevie…

…until “Sweet Little Girl.”

Now musically, Stevie is still Stevie in this song. It starts with a very normal, infectious, harmonica-infused beat.   Classic Stevie. You might even find yourself singing along or something…that is, until the beat changes and the entire mood of the song morphs into something kind of uncomfortable.  And for some reason, Stevie sounds like a mix of a runaway slave and your drunk Uncle Billy who doesn’t care that you’re related.  You can just see him hitting on some too-young girl pressed up against a wall trying to avoid Stevie’s ripple breath (which I like to call the birth place of funk) and his touchy grabby advances. Remember how your parents tell you not to trust people who offer you sweets and goodies and puppies to come with them?  Guess what Stevie does?

Come on baaaaaaaaaby, you know your baaaaaaaaaaaby loves you,
I’ve given you cookies and candy, and the woofer…

Oh shit! The woofer!?! Stevie gave her the woofer!?! Why would he do that?!  Did it come with tweeters!?! Are we talking about that kind of woofer!?! If not that woofer, then what woofer!?! Oh my God, Stevie what did you do!?! How young is she!?! Did you bring Mike’s Hard Lemonade and a coloring book too!?! Was Chris Hansen there?  Why wasn’t Chris Hansen there??  Did you name your penis ‘The Woofer?’  If so, is that a seeing eye-dog reference!?!

..If so, that’s pretty clever.  Creepy…but clever.

Then, just when you’re starting to feel all the way uneasy, Stevie flips back into happy mode and it sounds like its gonna stay awhile! The beat starts rocking…Stevie’s hitting high notes again, life is good! You’re almost able to forget that the song got weird back there. (Whew!)

But then Stevie presses the creepy button again. At this point its kind of like an audible abusive relationship. Musically, the good times are really good…but the bad times are unfortunate as shit and you just want to leave.  And it just keeeps getting worse; this time he sounds even more drunk and nonsensical.

Come on now, honey-sugar, you know your baby waitin’ on your love doll,
You know you got my load. Can’t you hear me talking to you, honey?

…wait. Huh? You got my load? YOU BETTA BE TALKIN’ LAUNDRY STEVIE!?! I know you ain’t…BUT YOU BETTA BE!!!

So…the song actually fades out with Stevie talking sloppy drunk to this poor, potentially under-age girl. It never recovers.  Just slides away into the most uncomfortable ending of any Stevie Wonder song I can think of when in the last line of the song, he yells:  ‘Don’t make me get mad and act like a nigger!!!’

I swear I’m not making this up. Stevie Wonder, lover of God and women, threatens to act like a Nigger if some girl doesn’t give it up!

Alright, it’s on you now.  Think you have a worse Stevie song? Drop it in the comments and getchusome!

Heh…woofer.

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11 Comments leave one →
  1. Chandra permalink
    June 22, 2010 6:07 pm

    I’m D Y I N G! LLS

  2. Lite Bread permalink
    June 22, 2010 7:41 pm

    Yes. I’ll take the Challenge.
    And WIN.
    ‘Cause I freakin’ Lived this one.

    My Wedding.
    Or, more accurately, the Reception. Daum G-Fab Girl – now-my-brand-new-slightly-used-wacko-Bride goes and chooses …
    By Stevie Wonder (and Paul Somebody-or-other , but he don’t count here)
    As Our Song …

    Ebony and Ivory

    “Ebony and Ivory live together in perfect harmony
    side by side on my piano keyboard oh lord why don’t we?

    Ebony,Ivory living in perfect harmony
    Ebony,Ivory oh..”

    If you’d a had to live a married life with her like me, you’d know the utter, complete, horror-irony of those lyrics, as applied to that, uh, “marriage”

    I WIN.
    ‘Cause I All ‘Bout That! Even wit the 2520 goin’ on.
    Ask Ms. Brokey.

    • Lite Bread permalink
      June 22, 2010 7:56 pm

      So, now that you got me reminiscing the sins of my life, its awful choices and the consequences, I’ma gonna go and play Led Zeppelin’s “Nobody’s Fault But Mine” (which they ripped off of old Blind Willie Johnson).
      At full-window shattering-neighbor-annoying volume. And then do a Long Run, to strip all the angst out of my soul for remembering …

      Because it all was my doing really.

  3. June 22, 2010 8:43 pm

    I refuse to believe that the greatest musician of all times was R. Kellyin’ girls! I REFUSE!

  4. BlackLizLemon permalink
    June 22, 2010 9:36 pm

    *Dead*

    *Buried*

    *Resurrected*

    *Dead and buried again*

  5. Fiqah permalink
    June 23, 2010 3:56 pm

    Hilarious. You can’t even tell when this song goes from “kinda okay” to “foamin’ at the mouth.” It was a sudden turn down a scary, sexual assault-y street once he started talking about his clavinet, though.

  6. Les permalink
    June 23, 2010 11:07 pm

    I’m gonna LOVE this new series.

  7. Caspercutie permalink
    June 24, 2010 2:17 am

    O_O…He was going to take to the movies to see Sweet Sweetback, so she could get some inspiration!? Fa really real, Stevie!?

  8. misterpalmer permalink
    June 25, 2010 11:04 am

    Oh Em Jee!
    I haven’t laughed so hard from reading in a LONG time!!!
    That was hilariously sad! =0(

    and for the record, those are THREE headless birds in the pic…

  9. November 12, 2012 7:53 am

    Where I’m Coming From is an excellent album that could’ve been a flawless album had it not been for that one song. WTF was he thinking?

    If you ever do a part 2, consider “Until You Come Back to Me,” made famous by Aretha. Have you listened to the lyrics of that sucker? Knock on my door? Tap on my windowpane? The fuck?

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