ALBUM NAME HALL OF SHAME

BY BELINDA M. PASCHAL
They say you can’t judge a book by its cover, and that’s also true of its title. For example, fiction author Francesca Lia Block makes the bestseller lists with such horrifically titled tomes as Necklace of Kisses and Psyche in a Dress.
That same philosophy can be applied to albums. Take, for instance, Fiona Apple’s critically
acclaimed 2001 release. Make no mistake -- I love me some Fiona. But my favorite sullen girl must’ve been off her meds when she came up with When The Pawn Hits The Conflicts He Thinks Like A King What He Knows Throws The Blows When He Goes To The Fight And He'll Win The Whole Thing 'Fore He Enters The Ring There's No Body To Batter When Your Mind Is Your Might So When You Go Solo, You Hold Your Own Hand And Remember That Depth Is The Greatest Of Heights And If You Know Where You Stand, Then You Know Where To Land And If You Fall It Won't Matter, Cuz You'll Know That You're Right.
Thankfully, this is commonly abbreviated to When the Pawn – I passed out from lack of oxygen while requesting it at the music store.
When album titles are good, they’re very, very good – e.g., Exile On Main Street by The Rolling Stones and Funkadelic’s One Nation Under a Groove. But when they’re bad, they’re horrid – like Sum 41’s Does This Look Infected? (No confirmation to the rumor that this was Sum singer Deryck Whibley follow-up question after asking for Avril Lavigne’s cloven hoof in marriage.)
I could write a series of columns listing some of the most wrongheaded album titles. (And depending on the severity of my writers’ block this month, I just might.) Here are some inductees in my personal Album Title Hall of Shame:
* Limp Bizkit: Chocolate Starfish & the Hot Dog-Flavored Water – The meaning of this title isn’t printable in a family newspaper. Let’s just say Fred Durst deserves a punch in the "bizkit" for such pretentious idiocy.
* REO Speedwagon: The Earth, A Small Man, His Dog and a Chicken – By the same band who gave us You Can Tune a Piano, But You Can't Tuna Fish, this title sounds like it should be followed by " … walk into a bar."
* Butch Yelton and Upbound: Swing That Gospel Axe – He will, he will … smite you!
* Robyn Archer: Mrs. Bottle's Absolutely Blurtingly Beautiful World-Beating Burp – I wonder if Archer’s next album will be Mr. Fletcher’s Positively Fabulously Fantastic Flame-Fanning Flatulence?
* The Peanut Butter Conspiracy: Is Spreading – The columnist. Is gagging.
* Circulus: The Lick on the Tip Of an Envelope Yet to be Sent – For this, Circulus gets the Foot in the Butt of a Kick Soon to Be Delivered.
* The Ministers Quartet: Let Me Touch Him – Not even with a 10-foot pole.
* Alanis Morrisette: Under Rug Swept – Talks like Yoda, Alanis does.
* Freddie Gage: All My Friends Are Dead – No, Freddie, they’re just really, really frightened by this title and they’ve entered the Witness Protection Program.
* Billy Ray Cyrus: Some Gave All – And clearly, Cyrus shouldn’t have.