Thy Music is Foul!

[pauln]

"... got the difference on the top and the sq'error on the bottom..."

[oldbuckster]

Let's not forget Pat Boone's "No More Mr. Nice Guy". It's Pat Boone's take on some of the greatest heavy metal hit's. It was at our local library. I'm sorry I didn't rip it because this is a classic spoof album. There's a pic of him on the cover sporting a leather vest, tattoos and some sort of diamond in his eye effect. This is so aweful it deserves a listen. Mark

What about DEBBY BOONE's......"You light up my Life".......Thou does stinketh......................EH Lad !!!!!!!!!!!!

[maxg]

"If so then I ask the dear reader to consider that Sir Maximus must be a confederate of Lord Thebes and they have tricked us once again."

I be merely Mercury Squire Colter (nee Capulet I'll wager). Ne'er a man was killed by ditty alone - poorly wrought or no - t'was a seeming ancient Greek did start all this - and to him carry thine complaint. Perhaps he doth plot to hide his own (Theban) Band?

[IndyKlipschFan]

You Light Up My Life by Debby Boone

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Album:

You Light Up My Life

Date:

1977

U.S. Chart:

1

Lyrics:

View Lyrics

Debby Boone

Ringtones Listen/Buy @ Amazon Sheet Music

People who like this song also like "Dancing Queen" "Overture From Tommy" and "The Winner Takes It All"

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Songfacts: You can leave comments about the song at the bottom of the page.

This was featured in a movie of the same name written and directed by Joseph Brooks, who was also a songwriter. Brooks needed a title song for the movie, so he wrote this about halfway through the shoot.

At first, this was going to be sung by a jingle singer named Kasey Cisyk, and she recorded the original version that was used in the film. For over a year, no movie studio would release the film and no record company would release the song. When the movie finally got picked up, it was time to record the song as a single, and Brooks went with Debbie Boone instead of Cisyk. Boone had very little recording experience, but was the daughter of Pat Boone, a very popular singer in the '50s with a loyal and very religious fan base.

The movie was about a girl trying to make it in show business. The lead role was played by Didi Conn, who played Frenchy in the movie Grease the next year. She lip-synched the song to Cisyk's voice.

This won the 1977 Grammy for Song Of The Year. Boone also won that year for Best New Artist.

This was by far the biggest hit of 1977. It was #1 for 10 weeks in the US.

When the song became a huge hit it helped the movie do very well. At the 1978 Oscars, this won for Best Song, which created a lot of controversy because it was seen as a sellout to pop culture. Among the songs it beat was one written by renowned composer Marvin Hamlisch, who wrote the elegant type of songs the academy usually looked for. Many songs from Saturday Night Fever, including "Night Fever" and "Stayin' Alive," were eligible that year, but none were nominated, which made it seem very unlikely that a song that appealed to the masses would win an Oscar.

Boone sang in a Gospel quartet, and like her father was very religious. When asked who she was singing about, her answer was "God." Joseph Brooks, who wrote the song, took exception because that was not what he wrote it about. He never asked Boone to record another song, but they did get together once more when they performed this on a 1990 NBC special called Night Of 100 Stars III, with Brooks playing piano while Boone sang.

Boone performed this at the Oscars with a group of children using sign language to translate the lyrics. Everyone thought the kids were deaf, but they weren't.

This was Boone's only hit, and it didn't take her long to fade from the spotlight. She was nominated for an Oscar the next year for the song "When You're Loved," from the movie The Magic Of Lassie.

This has been covered by many artists, including Kenny Rogers, Leann Rimes, and Whitney Houston. Rimes' version is the only one to chart, it hit #34 in the US in 1997.I must admit, this song made me puke too..... #1 for 10 weeks too.... WOW....... [+o(]

[colterphoto1]

"If so then I ask the dear reader to consider

that Sir Maximus must be a confederate of Lord Thebes and they have

tricked us once again."

I be merely Mercury Squire Colter (nee Capulet I'll wager). Ne'er a

man was killed by ditty alone - poorly wrought or no - t'was a

seeming ancient Greek did start all this - and to him carry thine

complaint. Perhaps he doth plot to hide his own (Theban) Band?

A

'Theban' band? Mark thine words, that may be the very nub of his gist.

Could it be that these twin maidens of his finally brought him over to

the siren song side of trechery? What motive doth he rend? We mere

mortals ne'er be killed, but the horror wrought by these bands be

devestating more than any man can stand.

Dost thou hint that Lord Thebes be a Greek in patricians garb?

[thebes]

Ah Baron Michael, well I remember Sir Shatner, a boon companion but a horrid troubadour. Only the war cries of those blue-painted, twice damned Celts are more jarring to the ear and , I suspect, the soul.

Blue-painted? That would be the Picts or the Scots. We Hibernian Celts never went further in battle-style than lime for our Mohawks (to look taller and fiercer, of course!) The lack of clothing other than a torc around the neck may have been scary on more than one level, however...

Sir Islander I stand corrected but forsooth is it not moot what colors or paint these savage barbarians may wear. They are soon sent off with a quiver or two from good English longbows.

[thebes]

Nay my sturdy companions of the Shield of Klipsch. Are we not all forsworn to defend the realm against the depredations the Kingdom of Bose? Put such unworhty thoughts from your mind.

Sir Colter sword is my my strong right arm. His devotion, and that of Squire Max is to the queenly Twins a simple reflection of knightly purity. Lady Tickles and Lady Tawny hold them in such high regard they have bestowed on them the family honorific of "Uncle".

Indeed, they have searched the realm for a special entertainment to amuse them whilst this horrid contest continues. The lass is most and bear secret charms, but alas her musicians doth suck.

[colterphoto1]

Her charms are aplenty indeed Lord Thebes. Is there not a family

resemblence with your ladies in waiting? The name on this manuscript reads 'Torkbas' , which is Norse

for Tickles. Perhaps this bejeweled dancer is a long lost Auntie of the Realm, despite the

atrocious choice of side players?

[Islander]

Ah Baron Michael, well I remember Sir Shatner, a boon companion but a horrid troubadour. Only the war cries of those blue-painted, twice damned Celts are more jarring to the ear and , I suspect, the soul.

Blue-painted? That would be the Picts or the Scots. We Hibernian Celts never went further in battle-style than lime for our Mohawks (to look taller and fiercer, of course!) The lack of clothing other than a torc around the neck may have been scary on more than one level, however...

Sir Islander I stand corrected but forsooth is it not moot what colors or paint these savage barbarians may wear. They are soon sent off with a quiver or two from good English longbows.

My Lord Thebes, I crave thy forgiveness for digressing from the topic at hand. And by the bye, I told of a time a thousand years before the longbow and long before the English, whom our blessed monks later taught to read and write. There was no Dark Age on the isle of Erin.

However, as to a time when a tawdry troubadour truly tried my long-suffering ears, a decade ago I was confined to a hospice for half a year to heal from grevious injuries suffered upon the turnpike. For four of the months I spent there, the lout who didst occupy the litter next to mine wouldst all the day long visit upon his fellow wounded a cacophony from his booming box. He seemed to possess few ballads, perhaps only the contents of a single disc, containing a collection of wails by one Neil of Diamond.

Never again do I wish to hear that one's attempts to entertain, which rather than giving pleasure, cause his listeners to call for barrels of mead, that they may forget his assaults on their senses.