Fuck You Mike Love


Any even slightly obsessive blogger spends at least some time perusing data to see who’s reading his or her blog and how they got there. For instance, I know that somebody in my old office was reading it earlier today. On the other hand, I have no idea who was reading it in Marietta, Georgia, today, although it does tempt me to start randomly insulting Marietta, Georgia, to see what kind of offended comments I get. (To that end, let me just say that The Big Chicken, Southern Polytechnic State University, and professional wrestler Marcus “Buff” Bagwell all suck.)

And of course, it’s always interesting to see what kind of search strings people are using to find one’s blog. For some reason, my top search string is “ben stiller”, even though I don’t remember saying much of consequence about Ben Stiller. Other ones that reliably crop up—and will draw even more hits now that I’m mentioning them again—are “johnny cash middle finger poster”, “enumclaw horse”, and “how much money do bank tellers make”. (I don’t know exactly how much bank tellers make, but I’m pretty sure they outearn the guy who drives the wood chip truck.)

And I’ve gotten a few hits off people searching for things like “i hate mike love” and “mike love asshole”, which may give you an idea of how I feel about the last standing Beach Boy (as may this post). My hatred for Mike Love is exceeded only by my hatred for Murry Wilson, who I always think partially deafened his son Brian by holding his ear against a red-hot stove until I remember that the stove thing actually happened to Teddy Duchamp in Stand by Me. (However, Murry may have partially deafened Brian by hitting him in the head with a two-by-four, which is hardly better.) That I have apparently become one of the internet’s pre-eminent Mike Love haters is only confirmed by my happy discovery of the usage of “Man vs. Clown! blog” as a tag on this YouTube video of my new favorite song, “Fuck You Mike Love” by Hogpig. (Along with Wikipedia—without which I would have no idea how to insult Marietta, Georgia—this blog is actually listed as a credit, so I think my earlier post may have in fact furnished some useful background research in the making of the video.) It reminds me of Furnaceface’s “We Love You, Tipper Gore”, which is appropriate, since Mike Love gave Tipper $5000 in start-up capital to start up the PMRC to censor pop music. I can’t decide what I like more—the “We like you” spoken shout-outs to the various other original Beach Boys followed by a spoken “Fuck you, Mike Love” or the observation that there have been occasions on which he has shown sound commercial instincts, such as his co-writing, lead singing, and sax playing on “Kokomo”, which is damning by faint praise if there ever was such a thing. (I have to admit, though, that while I hate Mike Love, I don’t really hate “Kokomo”, which contains some nice vocals from Carl that redeem it in my view. Now if you’re looking for an utterly worthless Mike Love song, you want “Student Demonstration Time”, which is basically the sound of a gracelessly balding man taking a shit on a piece of vinyl.)

Anyway, enjoy.

Bonus! I’ve never gotten MySpace. By that, I don’t mean that I’ve never understood its appeal. I mean that I’ve been seriously confused anytime I’ve found myself on a MySpace page. What’s happening? Why is this music playing? Who are all these people? Where is the content I came here to look at? But now, I’ve found a MySpace page that I do get: Murry Wilson’s MySpace page (Or, as I like to call it, the “I’m Bugged at MySpace Old Man” page). Well, I don’t quite get how someone who died in 1973 is running a MySpace page, but the rest of it seems pretty straightforward to me.

13 Responses to “Fuck You Mike Love”

  1. Any day where you get to publicly proclaim hatred for the so-deserving-of-hate Mike Love is a good day.

  2. As a song, Mike Love’s ‘Kokomo’ probably doesn’t compare to the musical output of the other Beach Boys. But as a mnemonic device, ‘Kokomo’ is peerless. Its catchy, repetitive melody and simple tropical destination-based rhyming structure means I’m able to list off more Carribean islands than I can American states. Mike Love missed his true calling: writing songs that help people remember geography.

  3. Morocco, Gambia ooo I wanna see ya
    Angola, Botswana come on pretty mama
    Zimbabwe, the Congo baby why dont we go

    Ooo I wanna take you down to Cameroon
    We’ll get there faster
    If we leave here soon
    Douala is nice in June
    Way down to Cameroon

  4. In looking up the lyrics for Kokomo, I realized the line is actually “We’ll get there fast and then we’ll take it slow.” For some reason, every time I’ve heard the song for the last decade, I’ve always heard it as “We’ll get there faster if we take it slow.” Naturally, this makes no logical sense at all; if Mike Love wants to get to the Kokomo faster, he should really get the lead out, not dawdle along. This lyric always irritated me, so it’s an epiphany to realize it wasn’t Mike Love who was an idiot all along, it was me.

  5. I can’t stand Kokomo, but I do respect the song because it was penned by John Phillips, Scott McKenzie, and Terry Melcher, three musical legends. It certainly isn’t one of their best, but it was the first time that Phillips and McKenzie worked together since 1967’s “San Francisco (Be Sure To Wear Some Flowers In Your Hair),” which may actually be the greatest single ever recorded, if I may say so.

    I have never heard that Mike Love helped to write this song, and in fact, that doesn’t make any sense. Phillips and McKenzie were childhood friends and former collaborators, and Phillips actually considered having McKenzie as the tenor voice for the Mamas and Papas. Phillips decided on Denny Doherty in no small part because Scott McKenzie had a wild crush on Phillips’ wife, the gorgeous Michelle. Ironically, it was Denny and Michelle’s love affair that nearly destroyed the Mamas and Papas from within.

    Phillips was also good friends with Terry Melcher, as Melcher was part of that whole “1966-1969 L.A.” creative crowd. In fact, it was Michelle Phillips who told Terry Melcher that her close friend, Sharon Tate, and her husband, Roman Polanski, were looking for a home to rent as they awaited the birth of their baby. Melcher’s address was 10050 Cielo Drive.

    I am not a Beach Boys expert, but I am an authority about the Mamas and Papas, and I have never read anything where Mike Love and John Phillips were friends or collaborators.

  6. And of course, it was Dennis Wilson who introduced Charles Manson to Terry Melcher, who declined to give him a recording contract and thus earned his wrath, which led to the murder of Sharon Tate. But I like Dennis, so I’d prefer to say it was somehow Mike’s fault.

  7. 7 Dan Moran

    Well, shit, I got here off of googling mike love asshole … and I love that youtube video.

  8. 8 John

    Mike Love is not bald. His hair just resembles a ubiquitous stupid bald guy hat.

    Mike Love is such a Beach Boy, that he lives in Tahoe…

  9. Marietta, Ga? I don’t live too far from there. About an hour, I think.

    I actually found this blog by searching “Mike Love Asshole”, so that’s an added bonus.

  10. You’ll all enjoy this: That no talent nasal prick road on The Beatles coat-tails right into the Maharishi compound with his suitcase packed with cigarettes, batteries and film which he proceeded to sell to everyone as they ran out of their own supply. Nice hippie spirit Mike. Go f**k yourself, and don’t forget to choke on your mantra.

  11. I just wanted to say, once again: FUCK YOU MIKE LOVE. You’re the biggest no-talent piece of shit ever to hit The Big Time. Your voice sounds like a Kazoo, you nasal prick.

    PS: Kokomo my ass.

  1. 1 Rob Smith Can't Say No: Oranjuly | Popdose
  2. 2 Rob Smith Can’t Say No: Oranjuly | soundonair.net

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