A rogue’s gallery of divine deviance

Rock doesn’t always need to be “deep”. It’s necessary, sometimes, to stay in the shallow sewers and soak yourself in puerile, good old-fashioned sleaze. And sometimes it’s simply about celebrating being young, going out, taking drugs, having sex, and living life. You know, songs that make you feel like you need a good bath after listening to them.

Granted, such music must be taken in doses and the need doesn’t hit me nearly as often as it used to way back when I was a pubescent, spotty-faced teenager. Back then, the dirtier the better. And if it pissed off the folks, then that was a bonus. I’m in that kind of mood today, so let’s celebrate the nasty side, shall we?

AC/DC: The absolute kings of disco sleaze-boogie. Songs like “The Jack”, with its double and triple entendres not-so-subtly comparing getting a venereal disease with playing cards:

She gave me the Queen
She gave me the King
She was wheelin’ and dealin’
Just doin’ her thing
She was holdin’ a pair
But I had to try
Her Deuce was wild
But my Ace was high
But how was I to know
That she’d been dealt with before
Said she’d never had a Full House
But I should have known
From the tattoo on her left leg
And the garter on her right
She’d have the card to bring me down
If she played it right
She’s got the Jack

Oh, nasty!

Or how about Motorhead’s pile driving “Eat The Rich”?

Sittin’ down in a restaurant,
Tell the waiter just what you want,
Is that the meat, you wanted to eat?,
How would you ever know?…
Hash browns an’ bacon strips,
I love the way that you lick your lips,
No fooling, I can see you drooling,
Feel the hunger grow…

Come on baby, eat the rich,
Put the bite on the son of a bitch,
Don’t mess up, don’t you give me no switch…
C’mon baby and eat the rich,
C’mon baby and eat the rich…
C’mon honey, here’s your supper,
C’mon baby, bite that sucka!…

And Mr. Mercury wasn’t opposed to penning the odd odorous ode:

You take my body
I give you heat
You say you hungry
I give you meat
I suck your mind
You blow my head
Make love (make love) Inside your bed everybody
Get down, make love, get down, make love
Get down, make love, get down, make love

Everytime I get hot, you wanna cool me down
Everytime I get high, you say you wanna come down
You say it’s love, in fact it’s too much
Everytime I get down, get down, get down, make love

So go out and celebrate your basest of instincts this holiday season. Get it all out of your system. Kind of like primal scream therapy for your ears.