TOP 10 SONGS TO LISTEN TO WHILE YOU POO
Everybody does it. Though we often don’t openly talk about it, each of us has cumulatively spent days of our lives sitting on the pooper, thinking or listening to God knows what. With that being said, there is an almost completely untapped market of music made specifically to listen to while their listeners are subjected to regular movements. We haven’t gotten to a point where highly specific shite tunes are widely available, but we still have your trusty blogger Cliff here to deliver a personalized playlist of my favorite crap tracks. This is the TOP 10 SONGS TO LISTEN TO WHILE YOU POO.
10. California Dreamin’- The Mamas and the Papas
I don’t know about you, but there is seldom a time where I am squatting down to let loose where I find myself in a particularly clean or aesthetically pleasing environment. Because of this, it’s hard to resist throwing on this counter-culture folk classic. As I sit trapped in my self-inflicted linoleum prison my head begins to peruse thoughts of a mild-aired utopia. All the leaves are brown, baby.
9. Seeing Red- Minor Threat
Though I must admit that I’m not the most amiable person in the world, my own worst enemy is me, especially when I’m undertaking a nice #2. And I when I mentally face-off with myself in the toilet bowl-arena, I need the one-two punch of speed and power to slap myself into the correct BM mindset. Ian MacKaye’s screams provide the perfect burst of energy to accelerate out of those unfortunate ruts.
8. Dazed and Confused- Led Zeppelin
Don’t ever let anyone tell you you’re being dramatic about your poos (my girlfriend does to me all the time), your expulsion of organic waste is the most natural heroism of all time: an epic written in the dirt beneath our feet. It’s hard to choose a particular Zeppelin song to snap into my greasy bathroom tape player, but this wailing classic off their debut transforms my bashfully off-white bowl into a golden throne from which I sip from a goblet while straining the blood vessels in my forehead. This heavily distorted dissent into fiery blues-rock gifts an otherwise banal task with the dignity that it has always deserved.
7. Informer- Snow
The barrier between the abstract enjoyment of music and material improvements from groovy tracks is much less tangible than you would expect. What could this possibly mean, Cliff? Well, the undeniably perfect mid 90s classic, Informer, is so funky that it helps me finish my duty. Snow’s beautifully crafted beat massages my colon via soundwaves, and the lyrics are so good that my body completely relaxes whenever I let those golden words into my ears. Thank you, Snow.
6. London Dungeon- The Misfits
You can probably tell that these songs are chosen to reflect something I am feeling in my head and that I view them as reliable extensions of whatever I am feeling. As mentioned in the California Dreamin’ segment (see number 10), I often feel trapped by architecture that is understandably designed to keep the stank from leaking out. However, more often than not I decide to revel in my discomfort rather than finding release in escapism. For that reason, the Misfit’s London Dungeon, a song literally about being in a dungeon, really resonates with me. If you were to break down my door mid-project and conducted a vibe check, there’s a good chance you would find a wave of brooding anger lingering within me.
5. Crosseyed and Painless- Talking Heads
Despite whatever I may be wearing, whatever fad I’m committing myself to, or whatever I may be currently spending the majority of my time doing, at the end of the day I cannot escape the vulnerability of simply being human. Unsurprisingly, this existential dread of being within a soft body surrounded my hardened testaments to human progress is particularly exacerbated in the necessarily immaculate reality of a bathroom’s interior. So, when I sit there within my mech of pipes and tile questioning why I must inherently remain a pinnacle of weakness while pushing out evidence of my body’s inefficiency, David Byrne’s nervous yelps of modern fear give me at least a partial feeling of solidarity. The (angular) rattling echoes my anxieties of an alienating society and empowers my disgust with its throbbing isolation. As a result, I have few qualms about dropping my deuce within it.
4. Honey Bucket- The Melvins
I won’t lie to you, my trust readers who have made it to number 4 on a listicle about my poo-poo playlist, I don’t like metal. It’s a pretty deflating predisposition when ruminating on songs to help squeeze out a big one; metal is the perfect engine to keep you regular! By no means do I want to dispute the inescapable law of nature that states heavy music is objectively wonderful for a poor sap whose clenching mechanisms have been exhausted. But I don’t like metal. I’m sorry, I really can’t stand the stuff. As such, I become incredibly distracted whenever it fills my ears which sit atop my cocoa seat. But Honey Bucket by the Melvins is the perfect compromise for me. It’s heavy without being obsessed with its heaviness and therefore I have effectively eliminated all distractions. From here, I let the heaviness overtake me as I become significantly lighter.
3. I Love You- Vanilla Ice
Of course, how could I complete a list hinging on my relaxation and subsequent internal evacuations without putting in a little R&B? As I scroll through my library of records, thumb lightly pressed over each of the titles as if to tease every one of them with the privilege of being of my restroom royalty, one record stands out. You guessed it: 1990’s To the Extreme by Vanilla Ice, specifically the last track: I Love You. The song is the perfect tempo through which I can focus in on internal stasis, a plane of existence which allows unadulterated self-cleansing. The beat centers around a crisp, reverbed splash which is incredibly reminiscent of a mass entering a toilet bowl’s sea. Ice croons about love in such a down-to-earth manner that I can’t help but turn to myself and say “I love you” in a burst of confidence which is required for a successful trip to the john. And don’t even get me started on the sax solo.
2. Day of the Lords- Joy Division
Time to get real, folks. I’m not perfect. I know this whole list builds the illusion that I’m perfectly prepared to live an incredibly clean and regular life; a life where surroundings which breed a colonic flow-state have been so ingrained in my head that it’s virtually automatic. But, as much as I hate to say it, this is the real world. More often than not I don’t have a perfect trip, and I leave feeling incredibly frustrated and confused. What did I do wrong? Do I need to change my diet? I bet the normal people don’t have these issues. In times like these, I look back to my days of constant discomfort: high school. When embracing these nihilistic anthems of self-hatred as a means of relinquishing the responsibility of my fecal health, I become a martyr. And no band empowers self-pitying more than Joy Division. When I leave my bathroom in silence and lay down in a pool of my tears after a catastrophic failure, I become Ian Curtis.
1. Rollin’ (Air Raid Vehicle)- Limp Bizkit
The beauty of a pooping playlist is its utter lack of pretension. Sure, the concept itself is pretty funny on a surface level, but it does provide a legitimate opportunity to judge music on the utmost visceral level. In most circumstances, there won’t be another soul joining you in your journey to the bottom of the potty, and in most circumstances, you won’t want to associate the experience to closely with any part of your identity. The only reason why you would put something on a playlist like this is that you enjoy it independent of how you think your friends or peers would react. For this reason, Limp Bizkit will always remain my kings of the chocolate log kingdom. Their music is foul, trashy, offensive. But it’s fun to listen to, and as such makes me feel my most powerful when my jaw and various other muscles clench daily.
– Cliff Jenkins
