Bad Memories of Jingo-Pop
During the lastest Iran War Scare, a number of bloggers have indirectly alluded to the 1979 "novelty" song, "Bomb Iran," by Vince Vance and the Valiants. For those of you too young to remember this jingo-pop classic (much beloved of "wacky" drive-time disc jockeys during the Iranian Hostage Crisis), here are the full lyrics.
Bomb Iran (to the tune of "Barbara Ann" by the Beach Boys)
Bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb, Iran.
Bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb, BOMB IRAN!
Let's take a stand, bomb Iran.
Our country's got a feelin'
Really hit the ceilin', bomb Iran.
Bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb Iran.
Went to a mosque, gonna throw some rocks.
Tell the Ayatollah..."Gonna put you in a box!"
Bomb Iran. Bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb Iran.
Our country's got a feelin'
Really hit the ceilin', bomb Iran.
Bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb Iran.
Ol' Uncle Sam's gettin' pretty hot.
Time to turn Iran into a parking lot. Bomb Iran.
Bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb Iran.
Call the volunteers; call the bombadiers;
Call the financiers, better get their ass in gear.
Bomb Iran. Bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb Iran.
Our country's got a feelin'
Really hit the ceilin', bomb Iran.
Bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb Iran.
Call on our allies to cut off their supplies,
Get our hands untied, and bring em' back alive. Bomb Iran.
Bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb Iran.
Our country's got a feelin'
Really hit the ceilin', bomb Iran.
Bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb Iran.
Bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb Iran.
Bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb, BOMB IRAN!
Let's take a stand, bomb Iran.
Our people you been stealin'
Now it's time for keelin', bomb Iran.
Bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb Iran.
In terms of compelling political lyrics, it sure ain't Dylan, eh? Predictably, ol' Vince and the boys did a 2002 retake of this song, redubbed "Bomb Iraq," which I never heard but that probably made a few Clear Channel playlists. And to show that this band's strange connection to the right-wing zeitgeist wasn't limited to foreign affairs, Vince Vance and the Valiants penned a song in the 90s entitled "I Know What It Means To Miss New Orleans." Well, no, you didn't really know what that means, did you, Vince?
I used to have a theory, back before the WWF turned rasslin' into a slick entertainment empire, that you could get a good insight into American fears by checking out the latest villains of the pro wrestling circuit. When I was a child growing up in the Jim Crow Deep South, the reigning bad guy was a Yankee named Freddie Blassie (later the protaganist of Andy Kaufmann's peculiar takeoff on My Dinner With Andre, entitled My Breakfast With Blassie), who would stand on the ropes at Southern wrestling venues and call the howling crowds "a bunch of grit-eaters." Later came the pseudo-Commie wrestler Sputnik Monroe. During the 70s there were "Arab" rasslers, and in the 80s, various Asians.
But jingo-pop has always produced a more efficient glimpse into American hostilities. The early 1980s-era tensions with Libya generated one of the best, or worst examples: a "song" called "Pluck Khadaffy Duck", by someone named Roger Hallmark. I can't find the lyrics, but I do recall from its high popularity on Atlanta stations at the time that after several verses of chortling about what "Uncle Sam" was going to do to kill Libyans, Hallmark, in his best redneck voice, concluded: "I ain't afraid 'a no Chicken Shi-ite," exhibiting a bit of confusion about the religious orientation of Libya.
All in all, this is a bit of Americana I would be happy to leave behind, if it didn't keep coming back.
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