(NOTE: Music That Sucks is the correct opinion of the author. Should you have a different opinion...aww c'mon; it's Michael f**king Bolton!)
I start the fourteenth installment of MTS on a somber note. I'm sure most of you know that I was born and raised in Connecticut, and take pride in that fact. I root for all the New England sports teams, and when meeting someone for the first time am quick to point out my ties to the "Constitution State". I felt quite comfortable with my CT pride; after all nothing hugely embarrassing has come out of the area, right? That's what I believed until I began research for this edition of MTS and found out that Michael Bolton, the man who can take any song sung by a black man and suck the soul out of it faster than a man can get his cock sucked at the Bunny Ranch, is also from Connecticut.
Say it ain't so Joe...say it ain't so!
Despite this horrible, heartbreaking fact, I will continue with MTS #14: Michael Bolton.
Michael Bolotin was born in Connecticut (grrr) on 2/26/54. That day the governor of the state, being psychic and knowing what the future held with this little Hell-spawn, decided he wanted no part of it and hung himself. He was a wise man.
Bolotin recorded his first album in 1969, but seeing as though the parameters of good taste still existed at this point in time it deservedly tanked. By the late '70s he fronted a heavy metal band called Blackjack, named after the weapon of choice for which to beat him with once he started singing. Again he was unsuccessful. A couple more solo albums found their way straight to the Bargain Bin before some key events took place.
First it was the coming of the worst decade in the history of pop culture, the 1980's. Corporate Rock from the late '70s had paved the way for s**tty music to clutter the landscape during the Reagan Years. Then, in 1983 Bolotin changed his name to Michael Bolton. His self titled LP went gold but did not exactly impress anyone. His follow-up album Everybody's Crazy was a failure. Apparently everybody wasn't crazy enough to buy this musical turd, but soon enough many people would lose their minds.
Everything went dark in 1987 as his next effort, The Hunger, was a huge hit and went double platinum. He had two hit singles "That's What Love Is All About", and a Top Hit that would be the beginning of a disturbing trend, a cover of "(Sittin' On) The Dock of the Bay".
The original, as done by the legendary Otis Redding, is a masterpiece that should never have been touched in the first place. Bolton decided it was his place to take this great song, strip it of it's soul, and toss of gallon of bleach on it, or "whiten it" as it were, to have it go over with the octogenian sect. This would not be the last time Bolton would commit such an atrocity.
On his next album Soul Provider (which has to be tongue-in cheek, since you actually need to possess soul to provide it), he bastardizes a Ray Charles classic "Georgia On My Mind". The album sold over six million copies, and the tune "How Am I Supposed To Live Without You" topped the pop charts. Other nauseating hits include the title track, "How Can We Be Lovers", and "Back On My Feet Again". Bolton even picked up a Grammy in 1990 for Best Pop Vocal Performance for "How Am I Supposed To Live Without You". If that doesn't prove that the Grammy's are a huge f**king sham, I don't know what does.
Next up for the Queifmaster General was 1991's Time, Love and Tenderness. This album topped the previous one by selling over eight million copies. Is there really any hope for this country when a Michael Bolton album can go platinum eight times over? He stripped yet another song of it's soul/blackness, Percy Sledge's "When A Man Loves A Woman"; and it went to #1 on the charts. WHAT THE F**K IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE?!? If you like the song then listen to the original! Another single to become a hit from that album is "Love Is A Wonderful Thing". C'mon, this hermaphrodite doesn't have a f**king creative bone in his body, yet inbred f**ks from all over went out and bought his music. I suspect a conspiracy that may go straight to the major players in Washington. That is the only logical explanation for it. The critics of the music world had enough with Bolton, who at this point had more to do with the attempted erradication of Black Culture than the old slave traders ever could have dreamed of.
The butchering of the Sledge tune won him another Grammy, and the much anticipated backlash against Bolton and his crimes against humanity began to reach a fever pitch. Bolton heard the criticisms and told his legions of dissenters to "kiss my ass" at the Grammy Awards press stage. No, why don't we kick your f**king ass in, c**t. He also released an LP of nothing but covers called Timeless: The Classics. He slaughters such songs as "Yesterday", "Reach Out (I'll Be There)", "Hold On, I'm Coming!", and "Knock On Wood"; and the album sells four million copies. The national suicide rate skyrockets 567%.
His next criminal act The One Thing features a cover of "Lean On Me" but is considered a failure; selling three million copies. That is four million too many. Life made a turn for the better in 1994 as Bolton lost a court case in which the Isley Brothers claimed his song "Love Is A Wonderful Thing" too closely resembled their hit of the same name. Although they won 66% of the royalties from the song, they were not allowed to "whomp his cracker ass" as they had hoped.
A "greatest hits" compilation followed, as the death toll continued a fast and steady rise. His star thankfully was beginning to fade, as subsequent albums sold less and less copies. Another album of covers Timeless: The Classics Vol. 2, featuring the systematic destruction of such hits as "Sexual Healing", "Let's Stay Together", "Whiter Shade Of Pale", "(What A) Wonderful World and "Like A Rolling Stone" were confined to the Adult Contemporary charts. In 1999 Bolton rightfully lost a court case to overturn the plagiarism suit he lost against the Isley Bros.
Michael Bolton is sole(less)ly responsible for so many deaths, Hitler, Mao, and Stalin would bow to him in pure awe. He must be brought to justice and sentenced to a slow, painful death. The first people to get their licks in should be the artists (or their descendants if the artist is dead) whose music he has so viciously defiled. Anyone caught with a Michael Bolton album in their collection should be stoned to death.
Michael Bolton, music...that sucks!
