Bad Words in the Back of the Car: 5 Songs with a Foul Mouth
This weeks songs are from Young Jesus, Mannequin Pussy, Sunny War, Run the Jewels, and Warren Zevon
When I was 10 years old, Nine Inch Nails’ “Closer” came on the radio in my mom’s car. In the radio version, there is a brief silence in a line when the chorus plays, but the implication of what’s supposed to fill that space between “I want to” and “you like an animal!” The mistake my brother and I made was to sing along.
My mother asked how we knew this song and my brother admitted, “Eric has the CD!” Right then and there, I lost my copy of The Downward Spiral for the rest of the 90s.
But another lesson to be had was that words have power, a few specific ones in particular. When used at a specific moment in a song, they can jolt your attention back to what the singer has to say. Sometimes, it just so happens to be the perfect word for the moment or allow the singer to establish their authority. When thrown around all over the place, the listener might never feel entirely comfortable—and that may be on purpose.
Here are 5 songs with a foul mouth.
“Alex Lappin, the producer, really challenged me to craft a narrative with the vocal delivery. I was resistant because I like how I sing normally and I don’t like to deviate from my usual delivery– it makes me feel safe…I felt I left my ego a bit. I was able, thanks to Alex, to find what the song needed rather than what I wanted.” - John Rossiter of Young Jesus
Young Jesus - “Brenda & Diane”
This is a super-earnest, piano-driven, full-tilt Springsteen influenced anthem about two friends running away and literally risking it all. You can hear the desperation from the first words, sung with such shaky passion he might be on the verge of tears. As noted above, singer John Rossiter was pushed to really go for it, and go for it he does. The crescendo arrives just as Brenda and Diane “put it all on three” and roll the dice and…well, I’ll leave the exclamation point for you to experience for yourself. It makes me chuckle every time. There’s another moment later in the song with a similar, seemingly incongruous expletive. But it’s the characters that are crudely inarticulate, not the singer of the song. I first came across Young Jesus as a more guitar-driven band a few years back (check out “Green” and “River”) when they were Chicago-based. But over the years the band whittled down to just Rossiter, who was apparently on the verge of quitting music before being convinced to stick with it. Sometimes you’ve got to put it all on the line and roll the dice.
“This is not a society that is particularly kind to people who choose to be independent. It’s not kind to people who go their own way and make their own path.” - Missy Dabice of Mannequin Pussy
Mannequin Pussy - “Loud Bark”
Something of a badge of honor, Philadelphia’s Mannequin Pussy is in good company with the likes of Diarrhea Planet and Fucked Up in that they’ve adopted a crude name almost as a deliberate hurdle to be overcome with incredible music in order to be taken seriously. (All three succeed, but I don’t know that Diarrhea Planet expects to be taken seriously.) Working with the fantastic producer John Congleton, this year’s I Got Heaven bounces across dream pop, hardcore, and everything in between (sometimes within a single song) yet it somehow still works as a cohesive album. I’d put it in my “Best of 2024” if I were to bother making such a list. This song kicks off with a slow-motion surf-rock riff before singer Missy Dabice struts in like a proud lioness to declare “Not a single motherfucker who has tried to lock me up could get the collar ‘round my neck.” It’s quite the opening line, and she’s still got time plenty of time to demonstrate the loud bark.
Sunny War - “Swear to Gawd” (ft. David Rawlings & Chris Pierce)
All profanity is swearing, but not all swearing is profanity. I’m pretty sure this tune came up on the auto-play playlist after I finished Gillian Welch & David Rawlings’ new album Woodland. It caught my attention pretty quickly. Rawlings is a deft guitar player. His corner of country-folk is generally pretty subtle music, but he’s able to drop in smooth and winding fills that don’t feel showy or like a typical guitar riff. Often, they enhance the melody by strolling off in brief tangents. Here, he’s running lines mirroring the bluesy melody as a featured player with Nashville’s Sunny War. Consider this the entry from the parent’s perspective coming in to correct their foul-mouthed kid. There’s quite the delivery on “Boy you better watch it with that tone…”
Run the Jewels - “Oh My Darling (Don’t Cry)”
Trying to pick a favorite expletive in a Run the Jewels song is like picking a favorite explosion in a Michael Bay movie. They are everywhere, and all a sight to behold. I’m not one to shy away from crudeness, but even when listening in my headphones, these two can make me blush and laugh in equal measure. So I won’t highlight any particular lines—some things just don’t translate to print. But why this track? I love how seamlessly they trade lines, with El-P clipping his lines with a stunted cadence to let Killer Mike swoop in to not only run off with the rhyme, but sound all the smoother in contrast to what preceded it. It’s teamwork. Also, the beat and production is on the verge of total chaos throughout. Oh my.
“Loving Warren Zevon remains a lonely pursuit. Or, should I say, an interest that one chooses to pursue alone… because his songs recognize something true and deep inside your heart that you don’t feel comfortable sharing with most people.” - Steven Hyden
Warren Zevon - “Play it All Night Long”
Warren Zevon could always be a cynic, but he could also typically find the heart within some truly wild and vulgar characters. This song oozes bitterness and earns its place here with the mention of many (if not all) bodily fluids. The instrumentation adds to the effect, as it swirls and marches through verses of Zevon snarling about the condition of family members in various states of decline. If I’m not selling this as a positive track, that’s because it isn’t. The chorus is someone begging to hear ‘Sweet Home Alabama’, referring to it as “that dead band’s song.” Released in 1980, it’s an interesting counterpoint to the lasting image of can-do flag waving of the Reagan era. If the fun buddies catching up at the local dive are “Glory Days,” this song is the old grizzly guy muttering to himself at the end of the bar who’s been there since it opened. Joining Zevon on the recording are Jackson Browne singing back-up, beard Hall of Famer Leland Sklar on bass, and David Lindley offering the only glimmers of uplift with that screaming lap steel solo.
Thanks for reading. Enjoy the listening.