We Need To Talk About The Power Ballad

Y’all, we’ve got to talk about the power ballad. Why is this still a thing?

I thought that band that did that one about there being a hole in his heart that can only be filled by me was The Last Of The Power Ballads, but I was gently reminded today that I was about twenty years and five Nickleback albums out of touch. I don’t know if this is a Nickleback song or not, maybe I assume all crap songs are by Nickleback, but there’s one about some dude and he’s either standing with or staring down the barrel of a forty-five. Now, I’m also assuming he’s talking a gun since only those of us who are old enough to have gotten tinnitus from a club and not an iPod know what a 45 record is. Whichever, I heard that crap today and cannot stop my ears from bleeding.

And y’all, this dude is serious. He’s emotive. I don’t have to see him to know he’s gazing soulfully out to his audience, his newly inserted highlights gleaming under the lights, his brand new artfully torn jeans worn just low enough to show off how ripped he is, but not low enough to make you think he’s gay. Hey girl, he sings, you are my spirit animal. You. Are.


I hated that crap when Kenny Loggins did it, I hate it even more now. At least he was authentically doing crappy power ballads. Like Poison. Deliver me from hair bands, especially when they want to dim the lights and get serious, girl. I have just always assumed that bands like Poison and Cinderella were in on the joke. You know what the problem with the Millennials is? All their bands take themselves too damn seriously. Green Day and their saccharine power ballads where they weep for the world would be almost not a half bad if they appeared to have a sense of humor. I know I get a laugh out of them, although I’m told they are not, strictly speaking, a novelty act.

But I digress.

How can I begin my Thanksgiving preparations with that crap lodged in my head? Five words: Massive doses of Warren Zevon.

I’ll probably be out the rest of the week, kids. Everyone be safe and have a wonderful Thanksgiving!

Here are some songs I’m thankful for:






10 Comments Add yours

  1. Noel Holston says:

    I’ve been waaaaiiiiting/For a girl like you/To come into my……..
    Oh wait, sorry. Bad choice.

    1. Susan says:

      Well, that at least rid my head of this morning’s earworm which was Salt-n-Pepa’s classic “Push It”. For that reason alone, I WELCOME Foreigner.

      1. debbie says:

        Hey girl. Cinderella once noted, “You don’t know what you got till it’s gone.” But, the truth is, “heaven isn’t too far away. We’re closer to it every day.” Also, “Love Bites! Love Bleeds! It’s bringing me to my knees!”

        If I were you, I’d start praying for Salt-n-Pepa to get back into effect.

      2. Susan says:

        You complete me.

  2. Himself says:

    I know, I know. I was on a Zevon kick last night.

    1. Susan says:

      You must become acquainted with one Miz Grandefille who is a LOVELY woman, clearly, as she reads and comments on your lovely wife’s blog. She understands The Need For Zevon. She is my idol.

      1. grandefille says:

        There is never a wrong time for Mister Zevon. And never will be.

        Striking a nice festive note for the holidays? May I recommend “Play It All Night Long” (to make one thankful for one’s not-THAT-dysfunctional family) and “Disorder in the House”? (The latter needs a shout-out to my longtime future ex-husband Steve Cohen, of course. Who is also my idol, along with our gracious hostess here at YAAT and Newscoma and Aunt B.)

        We’re thankful for you two crazy kids. Give each other a smooch from us’ns, all raht?

        (Warren did a power ballad too, ya know, the way one *should* be done: “Accidentally Like a Martyr.” You’re not allowed to listen to it this weekend, though. Too very sad.)

      2. Susan says:

        The Chuck and I were just saying there were a few songs of Warren’s we could not listen to because the waterworks were too embarrassing.
        “Play It All Night Long” will now be played and a glass lifted in your spirit. Or a glass of spirits lifted to you. Either works.

  3. Desi says:

    I thought you were supposed to be writing abut boiled peanuts?

Just spit it out, already!

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