#Hulk! era sort of stuff bless him

[age-of-moonknight]

“New Kids on the Block,” Spider-Woman (Vol. 8/2023), #7.

Writer: Steve Foxe; Penciler and Inker: Ig Guara; Colorist: Arif Prianto; Letterer: Joe Sabino

[fromtheringapron]

Ranking the Songs on Piledriver: The Wrestling Album II

I had so much fun last year ranking the songs on WWE Originals that I’ve decided to travel back time over 30 years ago to ranks the songs on Piledriver: The Wrestling Album II. The first Wrestling Album was one of Vince McMahon’s many attempts in the mid ‘80s to present the WWF as a circus the whole family could love. They had a Saturday morning cartoon so why not take things one step further with an album featuring the WWF superstars themselves? In many ways, it was also the natural result of their relationship with MTV. Amazingly though, requisite player Cyndi Lauper didn’t partake. Instead, it was a pretty mixed bag of some of the most iconic entrance themes of the era and songs that were quickly forgotten, probably rightly so.

The second Wrestling Album follows that same formula. However, if its predecessor felt like a one-note gimmick, the sequel feels much more in touch with the pop sensibilities of the day. In addition to featuring more songs that would go on to serve as the entrance themes for several of the superstars here, there are a couple of tracks that could’ve blended right in with ‘80s Top 40. Even if their partnership with MTV was over by the time of the sequel’s release, 8 of the 10 tracks here got music videos, all released on a hot Coliseum Video release. Yes, there are some duds. Oh, boy, are there duds! No music production where Vince McMahon is involved would be complete without them. And you bet I’m gonna cover and rank all of them. As always, songs are linked in each entry so without further ado, let’s get to it:

1 (best). “Demolition” by Rick Derringer: A head-banger’s ball of loud noise and Hell roaming the earth⏤that’s literally the best way to describe this and I don’t even think it makes a whole lot of sense. This isn’t just the best song on the album; this is one of the best entrance themes in history. It can’t be stated enough how much this raised the bar on what a wrestler’s theme song could be. It manages to perfectly capture the essence of Demolition, the tag team, whilst sounding like an actual demolition. It sounds like burning buildings and brick walls getting bulldozed over, demon spawn crawling out from under the heaps of rubble. You can hear the Motley Crues of the world shake in fear somewhere in the distance. The thing is, Derringer already had enough of an accomplished music career at the time that he didn’t need to partake in such a gimmicky album, let alone give the performance of a lifetime. He didn’t need to go to this hard but he totally did. What an act of generosity. Bless him.

2. “Jive Soul Bro” by Slick: There’s no doubt the Slick character was largely birthed out of Vince McMahon’s racism. There’s also no doubt this song is a byproduct of that. Even its title should tell you how well Vince understands black culture. So with all that going against it, it’s practically a miracle the performer and producers have created something this stellar. This is an endlessly listenable piece of old-school hip hop, featuring some dope ass Santana guitar. There are so many ways it could’ve gone wrong but if it were to take its cues from anything, I’m happy it’s “The Message” by Grandmaster Flash. The sound is, well, pretty slick and could sound fresh on a dozen songs. Slick may have be presented as a stereotype, but he brings a ton of personality to this track. I personally love the inclusion of the female vocals. “NO WAY YOU JIVE LITTLE MOUSE” is certainly a highlight. It feels like I’m just listing off the good things about it, but I’d like to think they all tie together to make the song fantastic. It could’ve been a one-note production; it opts to revel in the potential of a three-dimensional world where Slick is the central character.

3. “Piledriver” by Koko B. Ware: Okay, so this actually slaps. Koko is the one member of the WWF roster who could’ve made a little career in music out for himself. He’s got so much charisma in his voice that it’s kinda remarkable it didn’t take him anywhere outside of this album. He almost makes me forget about the Sesame Street-level lyrics to this which include but not limited to “First you think you’re so strong/ but something goes wrong/it feels like a big bad mistake.” Love is said to be like a piledriver, as I guess they needed to tie it all back into wrestling somehow. Luckily, Koko’s voice isn’t the only distraction we have from the lyrics. The production is unexpectedly badass. It has absolutely no right to go as hard as it does. They could’ve turned it into a schmaltzy ballad but, god bless us all, they chose to dress it up in a leather jacket and torn jeans. Maybe love does feel like a pile driver. I don’t know; I’m not an expert. But if this song is any indication, it does at least sound good hitting the mat.

4. “Honky Tonk Man” by The Honky Tonk Man: Come on, you can’t just have The Honky Tonk Man not have a song on the album. That would’ve been remembered as one of the biggest blown opportunities in the history of recorded music, I’m sure. Anyway, this is everything it should be. Matches the gimmick perfectly. It’s catchy but never lets us forget that HTM himself is a total dweeb. Then opening guitar is now the stuff infamy. When it played in the arena, the fans knew a real asshole was about to walk his way down to the ring. I’ve never been a huge fan of throwback music because it often comes off as tacky and totally misses the point of what its bygone era of music so great. There was a troubling time in American history where we allowed The Cherry Poppin’ Daddies to make a career out of that sort of thing. But since the whole point here is to be as tacky as possible, I’m totally okay with it. It’s audio proof that a bad Elvis impersonation can really work.

5. “Girls in Cars” by Robbie Dupree & Strike Force: This is the biggest slice of ‘80s cheese on the album, which is appropriate because Strike Force is one of the definitive squeaky clean babyface tag teams of the era. I’ve always found the presentation of Strike Force kinda weird. Tito Santana and Rick Martel as teen idols? When they’re clearly two thirtysomething dudes with spouses and children? What? Why? Sonically, this is no different than a billion other pop rock songs of the era. It’s kinda catchy, kinda sounds like Uncle Jesse from Full House getting his big break. Dupree actually boasts some impressive credentials, with a Grammy nom for Best New Artist under his belt. He also had a top 10 hit in “Steal Away” which I’m sure you can hear playing at a CVS near you. Sadly, none of this can distract me from the fact that it’s still a song for two married dudes who are going too hard to reenact their best high school days which makes the overall effect really, really awkward.

6. “Waking Up Alone” by Hillbilly Jim & Gertrude: If there were ever a more unexpected song, I’d like to here it. When I first listened to it, I thought I’d actually made a mistake. Did I accidentally listen to the wrong song? Of course I didn’t but, man, this is so frickin’ bizarre. Hillbilly’s “Don’t Go Messin’ With a Country Boy” from the first Wrestling Album is kind of a bop but if you came into this album expecting more of the same, you’d be dead wrong. In fact, a standard ‘80s adult contemporary ballad is one of the last things you’d expect. Perhaps even more of a shock is that this is actually, um, not bad?!? I can’t hate on an 80’s ballad that knows its way around synths and percussion. Hillbilly’s voice is largely what you’d expect, though not super terrible or anything. Gertrude is the real standout here. I’ll probably never know her real identity, but she’s such a welcome presence on an album filled with muscled dudes trying to be singers. How did this poor woman get roped into this project again?

7. “Crank It Up” by Jimmy Hart: Literally every wrestler in the ‘80s and ‘90s used this as their entrance theme at some point.  Yes, literally every wrestler. I’m convinced of it. Recent WWE Network discoveries show even The Rock used it in a pre-debut dark match. Its status as a relatively evergreen piece of music isn’t all that surprising though. It’s generic heavy metal that can fit a wide range of gimmicks. Unfortunately, this isn’t anywhere near as catchy as it thinks. Jimmy Hart obviously has the chops to make a recordable song, but the trade off here is one that’s blandly competent at best. It tries to answer the question: is Jimmy Hart a rock ’n’ roll badass? And the answer is, no, he’s not. It’s really jarring to hear him talk about picking up chicks in his car or some shit. I can’t buy Jimmy as anything other than an annoying little mouse. I mean, that’s what the WWF wanted us to believe, right? This would be fine if it were parody, except I don’t think this is meant to be.

8. “If You Only Knew” by WWF Superstars: This sounds cute, in theory. Your favorite WWF superstars coming together to do some Band Aid collaboration should be at least get on through the absurdity alone. But in practice? Meh. Everyone sounds like they’re not even in the same studio with each other. That shouldn’t be surprising, but at least try to work me, y’know? There also aren’t any hilarious lines I’d usually expect with something like this. Just sounds like everyone is half-asking their part (except for Koko who, even in this bit role, seems to be stretching his vocals to their limit).It’s not even all that catchy, really. Astonishingly, this includes the only appearance of Hulk Hogan on this album. You’d think he would’ve had his own song here considering, y’know, he’s on the fucking cover. How dare they ignore the would-be bassist of Metallica like that? Oh well. At least we have the amazing Slammys performance to make up for all of this.

9. “Stand Back” by Vince McMahon: Dear god, where do I begin? Even if you’re not familiar with ‘80s wrestling, you may still recognize this one anyway, given its usage in the DX/McMahons feud of 2006. Its meme status aside, this is pure cringe. Maybe this is Vince’s way of waving his finger at the Jim Crocketts and Verne Gagnes of the world who doubted his clown shoes of a wrestling company. I honestly wouldn’t doubt he’d be that petty and ridiculous. Come on, who else could he be telling to stand back? It’s always fun to look for glimpses of the evil Mr. McMahon character he’d become, and it’s right here when he uses the the throaty “You’re firrrrreeedddd!” voice. Except he tries using it as a singing voice and the results are hilariously awful. I’m not sure who convinced him to do this, but I think it’s telling how it was brought up all those years later as a way to embarrass him. 

10 (worst). “Rock & Roll Hoochie Koo” by Gene Okerlund & Rick Derringer: To be fair, this isn’t the disaster I was dreading. I fully expected Mean Gene doing some excruciating throwback shit, but this is thankfully just him getting up on the stage on karaoke night after too many drinks. That doesn’t mean it’s good, because it definitely isn’t. While there are plenty of other songs here that can easily stand on their own two legs, this is one that totally feels like a novelty. After all, this is merely a cover version of Derringer’s lone solo hit from the ‘70s, so it feels kinda lazy. Did we really need Mean Gene’s take on it? Like, his take on the Star Spangled Banner at the first WrestleMania is more inspired than this. The production makes Mean Gene’s voice disappear under various guitar screeches, which is probably a wise decision. If I had my druthers, however, this entire song could disappear off the album altogether and I wouldn’t even care.

So there you go. Agree or disagree with this ranking? Am I just spouting nonsense? Will we ever see The Wrestling Album III? Is love really like a piledriver? While you’re pondering these questions, give this album another spin and, of course, don’t forget to crank it up.