Talking to Your Kids About Food Songs

Would you trust this man alone with your citrus?
It's the moment every parent dreads: your child approaches you with Led Zeppelin II in his hand and asks why the heck someone would write a song about a lemon. Being prepared goes a long way in talking to your kids about food music. Simply read the included text verbatim to your children, and the discussion will be over before you know it. It's better than learning about foods songs from somebody on the school bus.  

Weird Al Yankovic's Michael Jackson Trilogy

If, like me, you considered Michael Jackson's entire career a staging area for three brilliant Weird Al Yankovic parodies, you've already noticed that 100% of said parodies are about food. Jackson's music was so much raw dough to be baked in the oven of Yankovic's genius. Behold.

Jackson's "Bad" evolved from a meditation on his own ineffable rebel charm into Yankovic's "Fat": a heartbreaking confessional about struggling with obesity. (Actually, Al's song is, if anything, more confrontational—but that's just the belligerence of a deep sadness.)

The butterfly to MJ's larva.
The King of Pop's "Beat It" was a tired meditation on the fight or flight response, which is right up there with "love" in terms of innovative pop music topics. Weird Al decides to go soul searching in his version. Adopting the persona of an overbearing parent, Al dredges up all the worst nags in dinner table admonishment for "Eat It." As the song progresses, we see how genuine concern for a child's nutritional well-being can so easily slip into pathological browbeating.

Not content to simply cash in on the controversy surrounding The King of Pop's 1991 smash "Black or White," Weird Al prudently mutates the song into a series of reflections about his unnatural attachment to between-meal eating and the resulting fallout. "Snack All Night" is essential Yankovic.

"Peaches," by The Presidents of the United States of America

The lyrics to this nineties novelty are not exactly fertile ground for literary criticism. In fact, they're not really ripe for any criticism, being a string of celebratory innuendos. To the Presidents' credit (?), singer Chris Ballew claims the song is an autobiographical lament about his experience squeezing the fruit under a tree after being stood up for a romantic rendezvous. Less to their credit, the song liberally borrows from Bad Company's "Feel Like Makin' Love," a sentiment that is also, arguably, the song's real raison d'ĂȘtre.

"Cherry Pie," by Warrant
The Cadillac of singles.


Cherry Pie may be the only song about food that took less time to write than the titular food does to prepare. According to Warrant frontman Jani Lane, the song was penned in about fifteen minutes. The song's initial conception was scrawled down on...wait for it...a pizza box. (The box is on display at the Hard Rock Cafe in Destin, FL. This is not a compelling enough reason to visit Destin, I assure you.)  If you like this song, but want something a little sweeter, just stick it in a blender, and you'll have...

"Pour Some Sugar On Me," by Def Leppard

At least the drummer didn't lose his sugar pourin' arm. A micrometer-thin veil separates this food song's spirit from its ostensible subject matter. The tune never even specifies the type of sugar involved in the entreaty. We can assume it's HFCS if the song's own unavoidability is any indication. Though a bit off-color, this is by no means the most polarizing song about sugar. That honor goes to...

"Brown Sugar," by The Rolling Stones

Though legendary rock critic Robert Christgau calls this classic shack shaker "beyond exegesis," it is more prudence than awe that keeps our visit brief. Suffice it to say this is the entire rock cliche triad in one song, with some baffling references to great crimes of the past thrown in for good measure.

"Sugar, Sugar," by the Archies

Act now and get this collectible coaster.
Ah, finally. An honest-to-goodness song simply celebrating the virtues of...kissing? Kissing!? The title is twice as misleading as necessary! Who comes up with this stuff, Little Caesar? Next!

"Savoy Truffle," by the Beatles

A bouncy little song, as sweet as the name implies. Supposedly a song about Eric Clapton's love of chocolate, it's wise to remember that nothing is as it seems in the word of sixties food songs. This trend would change when a spate of literalism found its way into the titling tendencies of rock's icons. (See "Cocaine," by Eric Clapton, which is about cocaine, or "Heroin," by the Velvet Underground, which is about heroin, despite the banana on the cover.)

"Cheeseburger In Paradise," by Jimmy Buffett

Jimmy Buffet needs no introduction—either you know who he is, or you'll never need to. It should be no surprise that a man with an all-you-can-eat surname rose to fame on songs about epicurean delights. Though he is also fond of margaritas and Peanut Butter Conspiracies, it is "Cheeseburger In Paradise" that boasts an accompanying chain of restaurants. (Technically, Margaritavilles are only cafes...) Besides being awesome for taking a non sequitur cheap shot at the Holiday Inn hotel chain, Cheeseburger In Paradise is an oddly literate monologue of deranged craving borne by too much time at sea. It's pretty family friendly, as those go.

"A Cherry on Top," by The Knife

"A Cherry On Top" is from Shaking the Habitual, which one critic called, "A deranged beast running from a pair of fuzzy dice with machine guns." OK, that was less one critic and more just something I said. But it might not be where you'd expect to find a haiku-length song about dessert. The sweet treats invoked inside this song's fever dream borders may not be available on earth. If they are, though, I know where they're served: the diner in David Lynch's Mulholland Drive. This song's scant lyrics mention strawberry, melon, and a cherry, before finishing with a reference to coffee, evening cream, and the home of the Swedish royal family—Haga Castle. It's almost nonsense graffiti, but not quite. The warbling soundscape evokes eating a sundae at the bottom of a swimming pool on a sunny day, with little ambition to resurface.

Conclusions:
  1. Lyricists overwhelmingly prefer sweets over savory items, at least as fodder for singing mostly vowel-emphasizing pop hooks. 
  2. Food songs are never just about food, unless they're for children. This also goes for food blogs. It's good to know this going in.  
I hope this gives you a leg up when it's time to have The Talk. Good luck!


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