Peg
Man, I just had to learn a Steely Dan song for one of my gigs. It's called "Peg", and I'm quite sure that Steely Dan's members wrote it specifically to make me want to gouge out my eyes with a broom handle sharpened to a point.Let's talk about how much I hate this song.
First of all, I hate the saxophone, and it comes in pretty early, so right off the bat I'm ready to damage something nearby. The opening chords don't make me all that mad, but they are walking a thin line.
Then come the lyrics, which were lifted from a red-tiled bathroom wall somewhere in the 7th layer of Hell, or so I have surmised. Not only do I hate the lyrics, I hate the sound of the singer's voice because of the effects they have on them. I presume these were purchased off the shelf at the House of Sorrowful Ears and rushed over to the studio for this vocal track. Not only do I hate the lyrics and the effects, but I hate the way the guy says "Peg"
He says "Paig". PAIG! LORD JESUS GOD I HATE THIS SONG WITH THE FEROCIOUS INTENSITY OF A MILLION CRACKED OUT MIKE TYSONS.
I had to learn it tonight for my gig tomorrow night. Sometimes you have to do things you don't really want to do, like travel the earth eradicating all vestiges of the song "Peg" by Steely Dan, or tongue-kissing the mailman.
Christ, I even hate the name Peg. If Any of you fine people are named Peg, I'm sure you are just as sweet as can be, and truth be told, I would probably sex you up like the shiny-haired love muffin you are, but I would insist on calling you something else.
Like Sweet Nips or something.
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