I crashed my car last week when I was distractedly gazing at a pet shop across the street. I had been fantasizing about bursting through its doors with police back-up. We would promptly release the six puppies in small cages. I would take them to my home where they would become my canine children.
Anyway, I crashed my car. This resulted in me taking Ubers and cabs for an entire week; and much to my surprise (read: dismay) this turned into a condensed course in horrible music.
Cab drivers took it upon themselves to spin full DJ sets; it would often start with some electro-mix of Enrique Iglesias’ new horrible song then quickly shift to hardcore Arabic pop. And since I’m not a confrontational person, I never tell a driver to turn the music off, I’d rather go home and blog about it like an asshole.
I mostly managed to tune out the music, but this one song piqued my interest. Naji Osta’s “Shou Sayer Aalayna” had the oddest, grossest lyrics ever, stating: “eedi yalli dammit sha3rik, la hala2 ma ghassalta,” which roughly translates to: I still haven’t washed my hand because it caressed your hair. You can hear it for yourself:
DUDE how long has it been since you washed that hand? This guy is going to single-handedly (haha, get it?) start an epidemic. Who told you that this is romantic? Like she’s going to hear it and be all like, “Oh he hasn’t washed his hands at all? Let me text him immediately for a hook-up.”
And besides your responsibility as an artist, to not put out dumb as fuck songs, you have a responsibility as a public figure. Lebanese men do not need more reasons to avoid hygienic practices. Also, in case you haven’t noticed: there’s a fucking trash crisis going on, please wash your fucking hands, wash them hard and often.
Anyway, that’s my issue with inaccurately romantic Arabic songs – they’re gross.