And now, I give you letter “C” of “The Angry Alphabet”:
You’re hideous, Manilow.
Oh, where to begin. I mean, lambasting Manilow is in itself a full-time job, so to focus on one song in particular seems a bit more manageable. “Copacabana”?! Really?! You should be ashamed, Manilow, and not because this is among your worst songs (let’s face it: they’re all equally terrible). Rather, there’s simply no escaping the horror that is your voice, this melody, these lyrics, this song. What’s more, I can’t hear “Copacabana” without then thinking of Annie Potts in Pretty in Pink, singing it in that nasally excuse of a voice as she gets ready in her bedroom for her big date. (Yes, that was Annie Potts of Designing Women fame, and, yes, she’s also heart-stoppingly awful.)
The “storyline” of “Copabana”? Some whore dancer in a South American club is ogled and beguiles Tony the bartender, and her tale is traced throughout various eras and dances of said eras. Wow. Fascinating. Seriously, Manilow, you’re a poor excuse for a human being, and to wreak this sort of evil on mankind is unforgivable. And by the way, how did you transform yourself from Manilow into Senior PGA golfer and two-time Masters champion Bernhard Langer? Creepy.
And by the way, if you still doubt the utter horror that is “Copacabana,” I dare you to have a listen.
See, I told you so. Fuckin’ disco!
So, until “D” pops its awful head up, have at it, you vultures!