1. Andrew W.K., "Ready To Die"
What able-minded young person hasn't thought about
drafting a will for the sole purpose of demanding that a particularly funny,
appropriately inappropriate song be played at his or her send-off? (Putting the
"fun" back in "funeral," as it were.) But the last thing your parents want to
hear while gazing at your waxy, lifeless body is party-rock, particularly a
song that begins, "This is your time to pay / This is your judgment day!"
Still, for the right family, Andrew W.K.'s anthem of preparedness might be just
the tonic to soothe a difficult time, sending everyone off packing, and not
just ready to die, but ready to kill, too.
2. Ween, "Push Th' Little Daisies"
With its high-pitched, prepubescent vocals, "Push Th'
Little Daisies" would make a perfect funeral song for someone who accidentally
asphyxiated while inhaling helium. The frantically squeaky chorus—"Push
th' little daisies and make 'em come up!"—could certainly drive home the
reality of someone's passing and help erase any feelings of denial among the
attendees. But the song suggests an unhappy fate for the departed, as Gene and
Dean Ween sound less like cherubic angels than like Satan's taunting imps.
3. They Might Be Giants, "Exquisite Dead Guy"
Over the years, They Might Be Giants have crafted
songs both lighthearted and depressing, and "Exquisite Dead Guy" sits squarely
between those poles. Though it kicks off with cheery, uptempo scat singing and
bouncy bass, it ultimately builds to an organ-washed bridge that finds the
narrator soberly asking the elegant, deceased titular gentleman, "How'm I
supposed to let you know the way I feel about you?" Sure, it reverts back to
the bass and scat singing from there, but there are also lines about watching a
dead man's mouth move while he rotates in a display case.
4. Jim Carroll, "People Who Died"
Jim Carroll is better known as an author (The
Basketball Diaries)
than a songwriter, but his one semi-crossover track was his painfully plain ode
to "People Who Died." Brutal in its simplicity, "People Who Died" lists
Carroll's friends and the ways they shuffled off: leukemia, suicide, murder,
drug abuse—pretty much everything you don't want on your mind when
burying a loved one.
5. Beck, "One Foot In The Grave"
On the plus side: Death inspires serious
reflection about mortality, and having Beck remind funeral-goers that they
"been livin' one foot in the grave" could make them re-evaluate how they're
spending their precious time on Earth. If they've been sinning, they might want
to change, lest Satan come down "dressed like a snake" and call their names, as
he does to poor Beck. On the downside, the song could seriously confuse loved
ones by suggesting that they're obscenely thrifty vandals: "Don't go throwing
no coupons on my grave / Don't go carving no happy face on my tombstone."
6. Notorious B.I.G., "Ready To Die"
"You ready to die? You ready, motherfucker? We
gonna kill your ass." If grandma hasn't fainted from grief already, she will
after hearing Biggie's deeply sad, deeply angry rhymes about street
life—and the end of it. "Fuck the world, fuck my moms and my girl / My
life is played out like a Jheri curl, I'm ready to die." And while faux homies
from the 'burbs might find your final sentiment hilarious, it might be a little
bit disrespectful.
7. Pixies, "Cactus"
Though Black Francis doesn't let loose his usual
yowling scream in "Cactus"—a song about a prisoner's wish that his
probably deceased girl send him something with her scent on it—there are
still plenty of desperate emotions on display. "A letter in your writing
doesn't mean you're not dead," the inmate reasons, so he implores her to send a
sweaty and/or bloody dress to make prison life more bearable. The song would be
inappropriate even at a prison funeral, especially for a convict who died while
bloodying his wrists with cactus thorns.
8. Iron Maiden, "Die With Your Boots On"
Though it shouldn't be confused with Toby Keith's
equally funeral-unsuitable song of the same name, Iron Maiden's "Die With Your
Boots On" suggests the same footwear. To be fair, the Maiden lyric doesn't
assume you're dead: "If you're gonna die / Die with your boots on" is sound advice
any way it's sliced. The lyric also deals with the Cold War and a prediction
from Nostradamus (the most metal of all prophets) that "Through earthquakes and
starvation, the warlord will arise." So even if the deceased died the way he
lived and was buried with boots on, things aren't looking rosy for those left
behind.
9. Blue Oyster Cult, "(Don't Fear) The Reaper"
Guitarist Donald "Buck Dharma" Roeser insists that
"(Don't Fear) The Reaper" is about eternal love, not a murder-suicide
pact—though it's hard to ignore lyrics like "Romeo and Juliet are
together in eternity / 40,000 men and women every day redefine happiness," and
the instrumental freak-out that ensues after those damning figures. Whatever
they mean, they aren't appropriate for a memorial service—even if the
song has helped listeners overcome their fear of the Grim Reaper, thanks to its
unsubtle use of cowbell and soothing vocals.
10. Elvis Costello "God's Comic"
What could be a better sentiment for a funeral
than a mournful ditty about heading to heaven to meet a disappointing, demoralized
God? How about one that opens with the line "I wish you'd known me when I was
alive," and whose chorus mourns "Now I'm dead, now I'm dead,†now I'm dead,†now
I'm dead"? (That might come in handy in case someone forgets why everybody's
standing around wearing nice clothes, in a room full of flowers.) While "God's
Comic" may offend prissy Aunt Mabel, it could be a comforting, good-natured
song for everyone else at the wake. Costello's POV character, a sloppy, drunken
comedian who used to do a funny-priest act, dies and wings toward the Pearly
Gates, terrified that a judgmental God won't get the joke. Instead, he meets a
sighing Lord who drinks generic soda and reads trashy novels, while "wondering
if I should have given the world to the monkeys." In spite of Costello's sins,
this God isn't invested emotionally enough to boot the deceased off to Hell;
instead, he gripes a bit about people and their demands, then buggers off on
vacation. Surely an ennui-stricken, human-like God is a safer bet than a wrathful
one, at least for†nervous agnostics and half-religious types.
11. Peggy Lee, "Is That All There Is?"
Peggy Lee had a Top 20 hit in 1969 with this
Leiber & Stoller-penned novelty song, which argues that drinking and
dancing are better than worrying, because all the good and bad moments in
life—from fires to circuses to romance—are inevitably a letdown. In
the last verse, Lee says that she even expects death to be "that final disappointment."
If you do
choose "Is That All There Is?" for your funeral, then as you lay in your coffin
at the front of the chapel, with rinky-dink organ and Lee's detached croon
echoing around your mourners, your spirit can feel satisfied that everyone who
ever cared about you is being told that everything about your life and their lives is plainly
ridiculous.
12. Cutting Crew, "(I Just) Died In Your Arms"
Granted, this '80s power ballad would be
inappropriate to play even if you were alive. But is there anything more
delicious than the idea of your friends and relations dabbing away tears as the
loudspeaker blares, "Ohhh I, I just die-ied in yo ahhhhms toniiiite!" (Followed
by the stinger: "It must have been something you said.") By the second verse,
when Nick Van Ede is describing the specifics of his lady's killer lovemaking,
your funeral attendees will be muttering to themselves what he's singing: "I
should have walked away, I should have walked away…"
13. Eels, "Last Stop: This Town"
The catchiest song about death on an album full of
catchy songs about death (Electro-Shock Blues), Eels' "Last Stop: This
Town" follows the recently deceased through a brief, final flyover of "the
world you left." The song offers healthy reminders to the bereaved that life
goes on, but those having a hard time coping might be inspired to join the
journey ("Can you take me where you're going if you're never coming back?")
since it sounds awfully tempting to float "up over the billboards and the
factories and smoke." If others decide to accept that invitation, you'll need
to find more funeral songs.
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14. Public Image Ltd., "Theme"
John Lydon had a lot to live for in 1978. Even
though Sex Pistols disintegrated earlier that year, his new group, Public Image
Ltd., kicked up an instant buzz—not that there's a trace of hope or
happiness to be heard in "Theme," the opening track of PiL's debut full-length.
With a sandpaper scream, Lydon begins babbling over a hellish avant-punk
racket: "There is only one reaction / You must never underestimate / And I wish
I could DIIIEEEEE!!!" And like coffin nails on a chalkboard, the song just
keeps on scraping, for an eternal nine minutes. Who says attempted
suicide—career or otherwise—is painless?
15. Warren Zevon, "Life'll Kill Ya"
Sardonic songwriter Warren Zevon didn't know it,
but he was suffering from lung cancer when he recorded "Life'll Kill Ya." But
even that story won't make it make it consoling to mourners. The song
essentially serves as a reminder that everyone everywhere will die, including
Zevon: "From the President of the United States to the lowliest rock 'n' roll
star / The doctor is in and he'll see you now / He don't care who you are."
(That's true, but still a fucking downer.) Still, Zevon's advice to David
Letterman following his diagnosis—"enjoy every sandwich"—would be
perfectly suitable for the wake.
16. Pedro The Lion, "Priests And Paramedics"
Pedro The Lion's amazing, matter-of-fact
assessment of death-business professionals (paramedics have poker faces,
priests are cynical bastards) won't soothe anyone. Still, it might actually be
refreshing to hear a funeral director echo the song's character: "You're gonna
die, we're all gonna die / Could be 20 years, could be tonight / Lately I have
been wondering why / We go to so much trouble to postpone the unavoidable / And
prolong the pain of being alive." Okay, maybe it's the wrong day for that.
17. Sid Vicious, "My Way"
Frank Sinatra and Elvis Presley
famously adopted "My Way" in the twilight of their careers as a self-conscious
epitaph to their monumental lives. But Sid Vicious' incompetent take on the
standard manages to sound even more arrogant because the worthless little imp
can't even be bothered to learn the words. The message of Sid Vicious' "My Way"
rings loud and clear through terrible sonics and worse singing: "I'm dead, and
I have no regrets." The only problem: No one will get the message, because this
truly awful cover will clear out your funeral in 30 seconds.
18. Pink Floyd, "The Great Gig In
The Sky"
"And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest." Or,
in this case, the evocative wailing of a session singer paid a measly £30 for
her troubles. Taken from Pink Floyd's seminal Dark Side Of The Moon, "The Great Gig In The
Sky" will let your mourners know that you aren't afraid of death—that is,
if they can pick up on the unintelligible spoken-word bit that opens the song.
On the contrary, in the immortal words of Homer Simpson, "dying would be a
stone groove, man." If you're Pink Floyd—or really, really
high—every day in heaven is a sold-out show in an infinite stadium, and
everyone has their lighters in the air. Beats contemplating the mortal bummers
suggested in "Money" or "Us And Them," that's for sure.
19. The Coup, "Underdogs"
Boots Riley, the wildly charismatic
frontman of Bay Area outfit The Coup, doesn't just write hip-hop songs as dense
and substantive as great fiction—he writes soul-stirring working-class
anthems. Opening with anguished sobs, a despondent woman hollering "I can't
take this shit no more," and Riley raising a glass "for the ones who die
meaninglessly," "Underdogs" offers a stirring elegy for the hardships of the
ever-suffering proletariat—a bluesy, funereal homage that's rich in
novelistic detail. Riley, the poet laureate of soulful poverty, articulates
what it's like to "feel like crying but you think that you might never stop."
Having "Underdogs" played at your funeral is the perfect way to convey to
friends and families that there was an Afro-sporting Commie provocateur lurking
inside you all along. Don't be surprised if a riot breaks out.
20. XTC, "Dear God"
It might seem unwise to mock God while
passing through the Pearly Gates, but Andy Partridge's bitterly funny
evisceration of religion in "Dear God" will set your mind at ease. Partridge
makes a strong case for atheism when he pointedly asks the man upstairs if He
"made mankind after we made you." But funerals are for the living, and only a
corpse could find comfort in "Dear God." You don't want all "the silly humans"
who "believe that junk is true" to wish they were buried along with you.
21. Metallica, "For Whom The Bell
Tolls"
When a young person meets an untimely
end, it's common for the family to play the departed's favorite song at a
memorial service. During Metallica's heyday, the group's music sent many a
young hesher to the big arena show in the sky. Hell, the band's "Orion" was
even played at the funeral of bassist Cliff Burton in 1986. An old poll on a
Metallica fan site asks which song listeners would play at their own funerals,
and "For Whom The Bell Tolls" is a natural fit. What heavier sendoff could
there be than a five-minute-plus rocker that opens ominously with a bell
ringing? The lyrics are pretty standard battleground gloom, but the chorus will
hit home with mourners: "For whom the bell tolls / time marches on / for whom
the bell tolls." Cue the solo.
22. The Smiths, "I Know It's Over"
"Oh mother, I can feel the soil falling over my
head," wails our man Morrissey in one of The Smiths' finest, saddest moments.
Your goth girlfriend might want this one played at her funeral, but relatives
won't be comfortable with the imagery—or the moaning. Sure, they want to
give you a proper burial, but they don't want to picture dirt covering your
lifeless body. Not for you, my love. Not tonight, my love.
23. Bobby Darin, "Artificial
Flowers"
Bobby
Darin's 1960 hit "Artificial Flowers" comes on like Rat Pack-lite, but leaves a
tragic aftertaste of Kurt Weill. The song's heroine, a poor orphan named Annie,
is forced to sell artificial flowers to "ladies of fashion" on the cold streets
to survive. Ultimately she's found "all covered in ice" in her tenement flat,
after which Darin advises, "Throw away those artificial flowers / those dumb,
dumb flowers / fashioned from Annie's des-pa-a-a-air." The word "despair" has
never been sung with such perverse joie de vivre—exactly the thing to
liven up (or mortally offend) a room full of the bereaved.
24. Queen, "Another One Bites The
Dust"
Gunshots
were a whole lot cooler decades ago, before masses of American citizens were
plugged in public on an almost daily basis. Case in point: "Another One Bites
The Dust," Queen's funky hit from 1980. Freddy Mercury—apparently
inspired by Steve McQueen, who started packing heat on the street after Charles
Manson murdered McQueen's close friends Sharon Tate and Jay Sebring—kicks
off the song with the lines, "Steve walks warily down the street / with the
brim pulled way down low / Ain't no sound but the sound of his feet / machine
guns ready to go." From there it just gets bloodthirstier, but it's the chorus
of "And another one down / and another one down / Another one bites the dust"
that's sure to be a howl down at the funeral home.
25. John Lee Hooker, "Burning Hell"
When they gather around your coffin
and sing about how the angels are coming to take you home, it's considered bad
manners to express disgust at the stupidity of the entire concept. In one of
his best songs, grizzled bluesman John Lee Hooker doesn't give a damn. He's
heard the preacher's nonsense about the fiery torments of the sinner in the
afterlife, but his unrepentant opinions aren't going to be silenced: "Ain't no heaven,"
he hollers in that inimitable take-no-bullshit voice. "Ain't no burning hell.
When I die, where I go—nobody know." When John Lennon sang "Imagine
there's no heaven," he meant it in a flowers-and-sunshine kind of way; this is
more like "Now that I'm dead, I don't have to waste time on hokey religious
ideas anymore, and thank Jesus for that."
26. Hank Williams, "I'll Never Get
Out Of This World Alive"
It's one of the sad ironies of Hank
Williams' short life that this morbidly cheerful tune was the last single he
ever released. Naturally, it became a huge posthumous hit. As funeral fare, the
song might go over just fine if your friends and family have the same penchant
for tongue-in-cheek dark humor that Williams did, and the ability to shrug off
the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune with a resigned grin: "I'm not
gonna worry wrinkles in my brow, 'cause nothin's ever gonna be all right
no-how." (As another philosopher put it: "Life sucks, and then you die.") That
may be true, but the sentiment is too on-the-nose for public consumption until
your coffin is safely underground.