Much belated, eagerly anticipated (by someone I suppose) here we are; my last post on wrestling music – until I waste my money on another dumb wrestling record.

Piledriver: The Wrestling Album II (complete album download)
Piledriver: The Wrestling Album II, as the title suggests, is the second album of music released by the WWE (then WWF). It was originally released in 1987, about two years after the release of the original Wrestling Album. While the original Wrestling Album was kind of a comedy piece, with novelty tracks and skits taking up half of the LP, Piledriver is actually an attempt at a “serious” record – and is shockingly a far better record for it.

The original Wrestling Album was mostly the work of Rick Derringer, along with the occasional contribution by Jim Steinman and Cyndi Lauper, but on this album Derringer takes the backseat, only contributing to two tracks. The majority of the record was written by James A. Johnston, a composer and songwriter who is still creating music for the WWE to this day, so good on him for landing a steady gig.

As I said, this album is shockingly not horrible, although things do get off to a really weak start thanks to opener “Girls In Cars,” a schlocky piece of light rock by Robbie DuPree, the one-hit wonder best known for “Steal Away,” a song that in itself sounds remarkably like the far superior “What A Fool Believes.” This track was used as the intro music to the tag team Strike Force, but I can’t imagine how that worked. That would be like having your intro music by Peter Cetera.

After that we have the title track, performed by wrestler Koko B. Ware. This song is decidedly not horrible. In fact, I’m just going to come out and say it – I kind of like this tune. Yeah, it may be stupid, and Koko B. Ware would never be mistaken for Curtis Mayfield, or even Gregory Abbott for that matter, but he’s competent. And the song itself is actually pretty clever in comparing falling in love to a piledriver. I mean, what better wrestling metaphor could they have used? “Your love hit me like a suplex?” “She closelined me with her beauty?”

Next we have the theme music for the Honky Tonk Man. It’s an Elvis homage, which was kind of the Honky Tonk Man’s whole shtick, so that makes sense. It’s a horrible track, although to be honest my opinion of it might be skewed by the fact that I do, and always will, hate the Honky Tonk Man with every fiber in my being.

Motherfucker tried to hit Elizabeth with his guitar. Fuck that dude.

Things recover slightly as Rick Derringer makes an appearance for “Demolition,” which served as the theme music to Ax & Smash during the majority of their run in the WWE. Simple tune, thrash-inspired metal without much melody, but it’s fun enough. And it certainly fits as a wrestling entrance theme far more than “Girls In Cars.”

It’s followed by probably one of the more (in)famous tracks on the album, “Jive Soul Bro” by the “heel” manager Slick. I assume he recorded this before he became a born-again Christian. It’s pretty dumb, and it’s followed up by the equally dumb “Crank It Up” by fellow loudmouth manager Jimmy Hart. This is light years better than “Eat Your Heart Out Rick Springfield,” mostly because it sounds like a third-rate Rick Springfield rip-off with a heavy dropping of sleaze thrown on for good measure. It’s still not a good tune, mind you, but it’s listenable.

By far the strangest track on the album is Hillbilly Jim’s “Waking Up Alone,” a soft-rock country ballad that features guest vocals by a woman going by the name of Gertrude. I have no idea who that is, but she can certainly sing. Not a horrible tune, with Jim’s complete lack of vocal ability probably being the single thing that holds it back. You give this to 1980s-era Kenny Rogers and you’d probably have a minor country radio hit.

The same cannot be said for Vince McMahon’s “Stand Back.” Bad song. Bad music. Bad singing. Bad. It’s bad is what I’m saying. It’s the worst track on the album, and might be up there with some of the worst tracks on the first Wrestling Album, save for Captain Lou’s number, which as I mentioned before, is the worst song I’ve ever heard in my entire life. Thanks to it, Rick Derringer and “Mean” Gene Okerlund’s take on Derringer’s own “Rock And Roll Hoochie Koo” sounds downright amazing by comparison.

Of course, it wouldn’t be a wrestling album without an all-star number featuring the best and biggest WWE superstars. For the first album that track was The Wrestlers’ take on the classic “Land Of A Thousand Dances,” a cover that could be generously described as a sonic abortion.

This time around its an original tune entitled “If You Only Knew” and it’s…kinda funny.

I think all my praise of this record benefits greatly from lowered expectations thanks to the absolute horrid nature of the first album, but I really don’t think this song is all that bad. It’s definitely a better fit for The Wrestlers, a joke track about all the painful things they’re going to do to the song’s unnamed antagonist, than a cover tune of a 60s novelty track.

It also makes better use of the individual wrestlers, giving many of the biggest names of the time their own lines to sing, including the Million Dollar Man, the Honky Tonk Man, Slick, Jimmy Hart (giving his best vocal performance on any WWF album), Macho Man, Koko B. Ware, Junkyard Dog and Hulk Hogan.

Next week, no more wrestling.

Sorry.

I got a few new followers it seems, so I’d like to let all of you know that I actually have another website called Mostly-Retro, where I ramble about all things music, movies and games (but mostly music). Check it out. Right now I’m writing about obscure grunge rock. I’m sure that appeals to someone either than me. Maybe.

Moving on. When I posted Hulk Hogan & Itch-Band a few weeks back I had a sneaking suspicion that it would catch on and gain some traction with the online wrestling community. However, I didn’t suspect that it would be the most popular thing I’ve written all year. Like, by a lot. My hits usually hover in the mid-to-high hundreds. That one garnered me a few thousand. And if I’m anything I’m a sucker for attention so, congratulations you all, you made me do this.

The Wrestling Album (Complete Album Download)
The Wrestling Album, released in 1985 and the he first WWF/WWE album. It was produced mostly by Rick Derringer with some assist by Cyndi Lauper, under the pseudonym of Mona Flambe. It features 10 tracks in total, and is a combination of wrestler theme music, oldies covers, a few comedic bits and original tunes. All singing duties on the album are performed by either wrestlers or other WWF personnel, with appearances by Junkyward Dog, Jimmy Hart, ‘Captain’ Lou Albano, and many others. The album is mostly known for its all-star single, a cover of “Land Of 1,000 Dances ?!!?” that features pretty much every wrestler the WWF had at the time.

Oh. And its the worst album I’ve ever heard in my entire life.

And that’s really saying something! Because A: I’ve listened to a lot of shitty albums and B: I actually like two tracks on this record. But it goes to show you just how damn bad the rest of it is.

But before I get to the dogshit, the good tracks. First up, Derrenger’s “Real American.” While it’s most famous for being Hulk Hogan’s theme music during the majority of his time in the WWF, here the song is billed as the theme music to the U.S. Express tag team. However, they bailed on the WWF not long after this album came out, so the song was re-purposed as the Hulkster’s theme music. Still a classic, I get goosebumps of nostalgia every time I play it. Not just that, I do think it’s an honest-to-goodness good song. Not many songs can be blatantly patriotic while avoiding sounding nationalistic, so good job on Derringer for pulling it off.

Trivia note: the backup vocals are by Cyndi Lauper!

The other good track is “Hulk Hogan’s Theme.” This served as the theme to Hulk’s cartoon and was, as the title suggests, was also Hulk’s theme song for about five minutes in 1984. This track was written by Jim Steinman of Meat Loaf fame, and would go on to be reworked as “Ravishing” by Bonnie Tyler. So yeah, it’s an alright tune.

Okay, now that I got that out of the way – everything else on this album is dogshit of the worst variety. “Mean” Gene Okerlund covers “Tutti Frutti” and it’s abysmal. Jimmy Hart drops the dis track “Eat Your Hart Out Rick Springfield” and – wait a second, “Hart?” Is Jimmy Hart asking Rick Springfield to eat…okay I’m gonna move on now before I get incredibly unfortunate mental pictures stuck in my head.

One of the stranger tracks on the album is “Rowdy” Roddy Piper covering the obscure Mike Angelo & The Idols’ track “Fuck Everybody” renamed to “For Everybody.” This, of course, completely changes the meaning of the song into complete nonsense, but that’s the least of its problems as Roddy can’t sing for shit. Seriously, he sounds like someone is pulling out his testicle hair with a pair of tweezers. There’s a reason why They Live didn’t have a musical number.

Junkyard Dog, Hillbilly Jim’s , and Nikoli Volkoff all have songs too, but they’re just run-of-the-mill horrible and barely worth talking about. What is worth talking about, however, is “Captain Lou’s History Of Music/Captain Lou.” This is the worst song I’ve ever heard in my entire life. No question. The constant wailing by The Animal, the hideous carnivalesque music, the bland production (thanks to Cyndi Lauper) and, at the forefront of the shit, Captain Lou’s atrocious, hideous, craptastic singing. If you have any esteem for Captain Lou, wrestling, Cyndi Lauper or pretty much “the 80s” as a singular thing, you’ve been warned – this might destroy all of that.

As for the all-star rendition of “Land of 1,000 Dances ?!!?,” well, that’s just kind of cute. I mean, yes, its horrible and not a single wrestler who makes an appearance on the track can actually sing, but none of them are really trying to. It’s just a joke track, a novelty number and nothing more. Yeah, the joke is horrible and the novelty wears off after about one minute, but it’s a hard song to outright hate. Or maybe my hatred for it is just dulled because, when compared to the sonic manure that makes up the rest of the record, it’s downright Grammy-worthy.

The WWF certainly thought the track was noteworthy. It was the only song from the album to get a video, and they even released it as a 12″ single, complete with an extended version and an instrumental. Now, I know what you’re thinking, what idiot would be dumb enough to buy that?

Yo.

The Wrestlers
Land Of 1,000 Dances (Dance Version)
Land Of 1,000 Dances (Instrumental Version)
So if you were listening to the album version of this track and thought, “you know what? This needs to be about two minutes longer and end with a wicked drum solo,” then you are in luck. As for the instrumental, you should download it just so when people ask you “what’s the dumbest, most pointless song in your MP3 collection? you have an easy answer.

Enjoy the horribleness. One more wrestling album coming soon.

It’s slightly better than this one.

Slightly.

Hulk Hogan & Itch-Band
Itch Ban
Night Home
You’ve Got To Leave
Axboomba

From 1972 to 1976, Telly Savalas, better known as TV’s Kojack, released four albums. All of them are generally regarded as being horrible mistakes that should have never existed in this reality or another. Today they are forgotten, and justly so. However, I remember reading once that, when asked years later, why he released not one, but FOUR horribly hideous albums, Savalas replied simply, “they let me.”

I feel that a similar explanation probably lies behind Hulk Hogan & Itch-Band, the Hulkster’s 1983 self-titled EP that was released only in Japan. He must have said to someone “I want to release an album” and that someone had enough power somewhere to let that happen. That person must be put on trial for crimes against humanity.

The album was recorded and released during the tail end of Hulk’s run in the New Japan Pro Wrestling League, where Hogan was so damn popular that his nickname was simply “Ichiban” which means “Number One.” I guess that partially explains why Hogan’s band name is “Itch-Band,” but why they just didn’t go with “Ichiband” is beyond me.

There are four songs on Hulk Hogan & Itch-Band. The first is “Itch Ban,” a self-aggrandizing boast track where Hogan exalts the power of his wrestling skills; his massive wealth; and even his cameo appearance in Rocky III, all to a disco-funk beat and a chant-like chorus of “Ichiban is Hogan San! Hogan is our Champion! Ichiban Is Hogan San! Hogan is number one!”

And it must be said, right up front, that Hogan’s singing voice is one of the most atrociously awful singing voices I have ever had the extreme displeasure of hearing in my entire life. It is so horrific that I didn’t actually recognize it as his voice the first time I listened to the record. I guess I expected Hogan to sing like he talks, all deep and gutteral and “what’s you gonna do brother!” But instead he sings in this bizarre high-pitch with a strange accent that sounds like…I don’t even know how to describe it….like a mentally handicapped Hanna-Barbara cartoon villain? You know how the bad guys in cartoons always make that “bwa ha ha” laugh? That’s Hogan’s singing voice…maybe with a touch of Jimmy Hart thrown in for good measure.  It’s something that has to be experienced, it escapes words.

After that nightmare abortion from hell we’re treated to “Night Home” a quiet instrumental number where Hogan gets to showcase his…surprisingly decent bass skills. That’s right, Hogan plays bass, and he’s not that bad! Who knew? Actually, as a whole the music on Hulk Hogan & Itch-Band isn’t horrible – it’s just Hogan’s singing voice and the ridiculous lyrics that sink it, both of which return after that instrumental interlude.

First, we’re treated to “You’ve Got To Leave,” where Hogan laments his upcoming departure back to the states, followed by “Axboomba,” an ode to Hogan’s then-finishing move of a running arm lariat (and totally not as cool as the flying leg drop). Throughout both Hogan’s vocals rest somewhere between the sound of nails on a chalk board and the howls of a cat in heat in terms of annoyance and auditory displeasure.

Hulk Hogan & Itch-Band might be one of the worst records I’ve ever bought. Although musically benign, Hogan’s horrific howling, matched up with some inane self-important lyrics, truly outshine any talent that was put into the music. Beyond hideous from start to finish, its only saving grace is that, with a brief four tracks and a running time under 12 minutes, it manages to stay firmly in so-bad-it’s-entertaining territory simply because of its brevity.

But it’s still better than WWF’s Wrestling Album. At least it doesn’t have Mean Gene singing “Tutti Frutti.”