Let it be known that I love wrestling theme songs. Call it a sickness, but when others my age were out listening to the techno rap shit of 1992, wearing their pants backwards and calling everyone "G", I was in my basement repeatedly listening to a shoddy recording of Mr. Perfect’s WWF theme (and obviously not getting laid) taped off the TV during an episode of Superstars. Clearly, I made the right decision, right? I mean, what woman could resist a man who knew Erik fucking Watts' theme song, verbatim? Answer: Everyone. Oh, well. 

Anyway, from there I’ve managed to acquire almost every WWF/WWE theme song EVER recorded, and to this day, I listen to them on occasion, often just to annoy my elderly neighbors who don't seem to appreciate the subtle nuances of Tiger Ali Singh's theme music. Those fools.

With that said, even for a Jim Johnston (the man responsible for almost EVERY popular WWF theme ever) aficionado like myself, there are certain songs that even I could not stomach. And I'm a guy who owns a horse porn.

You see, for every classic like Demolition or even the admittedly schlocky Real American, there were certain songs that just made you want to take a number two pencil and drive it into your ear drums, until you reached the brain, thus killing yourself instantly. You may be recognize these symptoms under it's other name; The Divas Search Effect. And sure, you could just press "stop" on the CD player at any point or turn off the TV, but the latter is more dramatic....

So, after much deliberation, I amassed this short list of “can’t hit” prospects; And granted, although there are a lot of songs that were probably much worse (and believe me, there is), this is the list I decided to feature.

Piledriver- Koko B. Ware; Koko was a talented high flier who cut his teeth (and forehead. Frequently) in Memphis wrestling before being called up to the WWF in 1986. From there, “The Birdman” as he was christened (accompanied by his pet macaw “Frankie”), made his way to New York, with a "look" that suspiciously looked like a mid-80’s version of Michael Jackson, with jerry-curled hair,  big assed sun glasses, and a single white glove, which to my knowledge was just for “decoration”, and not to “keep his finger prints off children” like Jacko's….

In any event, after the *highly successful* 'The Wrestling Album', where FINALLY people could hear classic interpretations of famous hits as sung by people like Uncle Elmer, our waiting was over, as the WWF, in 1987, decided to follow that up with a sequel dubbed “Piledriver!”, which was to feature Koko singing the title track. And soon the question was asked, "Could WWF top Mean Gene Okerlund singing Tuti Frutti?" YES. Because now, Gene was co-singing "Rock n' roll hoochie koo" with Rick Derringer. And hearing Gene rattle on about his coital prowess is worth the price of the album alone. Which last time I checked is about 55 cents on EBAY. Worth EVERY penny. All fifty five of them.

With that said, Koko had new theme music, and the wrestling world had one of the most irritating themes in history. First of all, the song itself wasn’t really even about wrestling, but rather Koko’s apparent "heartbreak with the ladies", where he compared “love” to basically breaking fucking rocks on a construction site. Couple that with the fact that the actual music video had nothing to do with wrestling either, or hell, the song itself; instead choosing to showcase a sickeningly grubby Hulk Hogan, Billy Jack Haynes and Bam Bam Bigelow working with tools before running Honky Tonk Man off a worksite in his Cadillac; all the while Koko bellows in the distance that love sounds like a “ahgument” (argument) and it feels (I said it feels) La,la,la,la,la,la, like a pile...driver! Huh, I think if your love feels like a piledriver, you should take your ass to counseling 'cause you just might be a physical abuser. Just saying.

You’re Gonna Pay- Undertaker; For years, Undertaker was one of the most feared competitors in the WWF, thanks in part to his eerie entrance which was derived from the famous funeral dirge. Just ignore the part where the guy who just powdered your grandpa and got him ready for show doesn't really have supernatural powers like the WWF's version. Man, what amateurs these guys are when it comes to, umm, undertaking? I don't know.

Fast forward a few years, when Undertaker returned in 2000, now shunning the darkside, having traded in handling organs and draining blood from corpses for a motorcycle, a can of chaw, and the chance to finally get a fucking tan for the first time in ten years. Can't say I blame him. From there, Taker embraced a character closer to the real life Mark Calloway, that being a "Bad-ass" Biker. For the next two years, Taker would ride his Bike to the ring, and the only stiff he'd be burying would be into his wife Sara, because finally the motherfucker was allowed to be human. And he did all this to the sounds of both Kid Rock and Limp Bizkit. It was a long 2 years. But hey, it worked.

HOWEVER, in mid 2002, WWE decided they no longer wanted to pay artists like Bizkit anymore royalties (probably to pay the salaries of “smart” investments for the “future” like Kevin Nash…) and thus turned to their in-house musician: Jim Johnston, to recompose a theme for the deadman.

First, though, it has to be said. Jim Johnston has compiled some of the industries best and most beloved themes (something that always set WWF apart from WCW, even during the lean years); however, in 2002 he seemed to completely lose his edge, seemingly putting as much effort into these abominations as a house wife does a hand job. And with that said, the diverse and unique tunes of the past were soon put to rest, to make room for generic rock/rap hybrid bullshit that truthfully had some of the most embarrassingly bad lyrics EVER. And thus “You’re gonna pay” was born. And with that, any credibility Taker had almost went out the (mortuary) window when this fucking abortion hit the sound system. Here’s a sample of one of the lines:

“Nice guys….they say they always finish last…but bad asses…always kickin’ ass!” end quote. 

And yes, they used "ass" twice is the same sentence. Dear god. That's some creativity right there.You know, sometimes I wonder if Johnston actually died in 1999 and Stephanie has been writing the themes in his absence….

Waking Up Alone- Hillbilly Jim; Apparently, judging by this tune, Hillbilly had issues with “waking up alone”. However, when you wear bib overalls, haven't shaved in over 25 fucking years, and smell like pig milk, are you really that surprised? I mean, really? There's a reason why they aren't that many women up in them there hills, Hillbilly. Maybe wear some fucking clothes once in a while.

Anyway, this was another track off the hit and miss cassette that was Piledriver: The Wrestling Album 2; And although people don’t seem to remember, this particular track served as Hillbilly’s  theme song for 1987 and 1988 before thankfully reverting back to “Country boy” in which he is most associated with.

Now, truth be told, the song itself wasn’t that horrendous. In fact, it really wasn’t all that different from a lot of the “my wife and my dog left with all my money, and my truck has a flat tire, and my mobile home is neither home nor mobile” whiny, country shit of the time. Where my problem lay, however, was the fact that it didn’t exactly convey Hillbilly’s toughness, instead painting him less of a "happy go lucky huckleberry" and more so a deeply depressed man who cried himself to sleep every night. Poor Hillbilly. Maybe he just hasn’t found the right woman, yet? After all, what woman wouldn’t want a giant filthy bearded dirtball with a trunk full of coliseum videos? Trust me, I know this all to well.

I want to be a Hulkamaniac!- Dave Sullivan; When Hulk Hogan left for World Championship Wrestling, he had made sure to include several side projects in his contract, including TV (Thunder in Paradise), movies, (like Santa with Muscles, that just *barely* missed the nomination window for the Oscars) and music. And if Turner wanted the swollen shiny noggin of the Hulkster under the hot lights of WCW, he HAD to agree to these terms (Bruther). All this of course led to arguably the worst collection of wrestling themed music ever: Hulk Hogan and The Wrestling Boot Band! Seriously. Clearly, someone should have gave these assholes the umm, boot when they had the chance. Might have saved our ear drums a lot of grief, dude.

Now, with this in mind, of all the Hulk Hogan ego-fucks on this album, the worst in my opinion was “I want to be a Hulkamaniac”, which for the record, sounded suspiciously like Owen Hart’s early WWF theme song, which is ironic considering it only takes about 30 seconds into this thing before you're tempted to fling yourself from the rafters, just to stop the pain.  I mean, just listen to this stark ravin' chorus, bruther: 

“I want to be a Hulkamaniac….have fun with my family and friends.” 

So said the same looping chorus while Hulk Hogan channeled Ice T. (Ice Age?) and “rapped”. Seriously. 

Anyway, with 1994 being all things Hulk, Dave (Evad) Sullivan, storyline brother of Kevin Sullivan, adopted the ways of Hulkamania as his mantra and soon began coming to the ring to this theme. You see, much like the Eugene character, Evad was obviously retarded. Although, WCW suggested he was dyslexic (huh?).  Only WCW would confuse difficulties with reading with being a mongoloid. Anyway, "Evad" (get it? He's DYSLEXIC! Just ignore the part where you can still fucking HEAR how your OWN name is supposed to sound) eventually became somewhat of a fan favorite, in addition to strangely acquiring a symbiotic link to rabbits which of course is the staple of all people with dyslexia. What? It’s not? Then why? Ah, never mind.

Anyway, by the end of 1995, Evad and “I want to be a Hulkamaniac” went the way of the dodo, and thus this forgotten tune is probably locked away in Titan Tower right now, somewhere beneath Giant Gonzalez’s bodysuit and the bovine headgear of Mantaur. Quick, someone light the match. 

Family Man- Ricky Steamboat; “He’s not a fighter, he’s a family man, loves his wife and son and does the best he can”….

And if that doesn’t strike fear into your heart, I don’t know what will.

Anyway, I’m not sure what kind of statement the guy who wrote this song was looking for, but saying “I’m not a fighter” is probably not the best recourse for a WRESTLER to take. It’s a lot like singing “I’m a fireman , but I’m afraid of fire". One has to wonder if you really despised physical interaction that much, why you'd pursue a career that sees you kicking the fuck out of people. That'd be like a Nun getting into hardcore Porn. And holy shit would that be hot. GETTING BACK IN THE HABIT. That's what I'd call it. That, or FALLING TO MY KNEES. I have these things all worked out.

That said, wrestling historians will recognize this song from WCW’s ill-fated attempt at producing a CD (no, not WCW Mayhem) the infamous 1992 release: WCW Slam-Jam!

On this one album, you had collectively some of the WORST attempts at theme songs ever recorded, that included Sting being and I quote, “as big as a boat…and as quick as cat”. And I don’t know about you, but when referencing the size of a man, I don’t tend to think a boat would be my best comparison. “Hey look at that Vader! He must at least be the size of an adequately sized schooner!” "Brad Armstrong needs to really bulk up, he looks like a row-boat!". Umm, you get the idea.

Also, we were also treated to such gems as “Steinerized”, “Don’t step to Ron” (which is Ebonics for “We didn't really need Ron as a main-eventer, anyway)”, all the way to the uncanny “smoking”, Barry Windham’s theme (and not RVD's), where the artist/song writer somehow manages to rhyme “he likes to have fun” and “Barry Windham” in the same verse. That's talent.

In any event, The Dragon continued to win matches and titles despite the fact that his song alluded that he'd rather be changing the Little Dragon's shitty diaper than pinning Rick Rude, but whatever. Guess it beats wearing a giant fiber glass mask to the ring…. 

Ass Man- Billy Gunn;  Billy Gunn has had a strange journey to the top of wrestling by becoming obsessed with his bottom. He started out as a storyline brother to Bart Gunn, in a cowboy tag team, despite it no longer being 1955 anymore (except in the mind of Vince McMahon,) known as The Smokin' Gunns, where they wore jeans, had porn star mustaches, shot guns with blanks, and were pretty much the only tag team in the fucking company. So, by default they were three time Tag Team Champions. I mean, seriously. It was either them or Well Dunn. And sadly, the world was just not ready for male strippers who had fucking animated thongs on the back of their TIGHTS. Ya.

Fast forward to 1997, where Billy Gunn and Road Dogg were put together and took off as the New Age Outlaws (only not literally as I'd have hoped, burning up in the atmosphere), and they were quite successful. Well, until *someone* saw potential in Billy to be the NEXT HUGE STAR IN WRESTLING and broke up the team. I didn't see it. Maybe it was because Jim Ross told us Billy went to University on a "Rodeo Scholarship" (I am so not kidding), but I just couldn't take a guy seriously as a threat when he probably wrote his "Final Exam" in a fucking clown suit while being fish-hooked in the asshole by a Bull and flung like twenty feet in the air. What a shame. He was like *THIS* close to getting his doctorate in roping.

However, Vince saw past all this, and had Billy win the King of The Ring tourney, while officially building Gunn completely around his nickname : "Mr. Ass".  And all this despite the fact that Billy was basically WWE's Teddy Ruxpin in women's hot pants. He had no discernable charisma of his own, and would just tirelessly spit out the same monotonous catchphrases ad-nauseam.

Soon, Billy came out to a customized theme song that boasted Gunn's prowess in all things "ass". Seriously. Someone thought that a great way to get this guy over, would be if he possessed an unnatural obsession with asses, and in turn thought of a multitude of things you can do with one, and set it all to music. I'm serious. The lyrics of this song detailed a disturbing myriad of ass-related debauchery ranging from "sticking them" to "picking them". Yes, PICKING THEM. And this, somehow, was supposed to all be credible, and lead to drawing money. Huh. No wonder he won the King of the Ring so easily. I'd lay down and let the guy quickly beat me too if the prospect was him handling me with the very hands that, at least according to his theme song, were feverishly digging about his asshole before the match. Anyway, ultimately, Mr. Ass's attempts to spread his wings, err cheeks as it were, and achieve singles superstardom was never meant to be. Eventually, WWE's, umm, anal need to push Ass, and hard, ended, and he eventually found himself back in tag teams. Finally, settling with Chuck Palumbo in 2002, and forming a partnership of both tag team and life, and one that allowed him to discover *yet another* use for his beloved Ass. Dear God.

So, there you have it. My top (bottom?) picks for WORST Themes EVER. The only way I could have possibly despised them more, is if, somehow, Jim Johnston was to combine all SIX into one disturbing hybrid. Stay tuned for  "I Wanna Pay To Wake Up Alone With A Family Man's Piledriving Ass'. It should be, umm, terrifying.