I really don’t want to bag on ICP too much, for the following reasons:
- They are a profitable business in my beloved home state of Michigan. In fact, the list of profitable businesses in Michigan is as follows:
- Jack White
- Insane Clown Posse
Unfortunately for Michigan, the list of profitable businesses ends there.
- I am an eternal juvenile, and have to confess to snickering to a handful of their rhymes in the past.
- Stranglemania 2 is a longstanding post-imbibement ritual at Casa de Winslow.
But I’m sorry. Sentimental thoughts, guilty confessions, and the entire economy of my home state must sometimes be put aside. I am, after all, a big-time music critic, so I must dismiss such trifles as the childish things they are in service of the larger task of telling the truth.
So it must be said–the first nominee for the Justin Moore Award for Worst Song of the Year has arrived. That nominee is “Miracles,” by the Insane Clown Posse.
I shall write no more on the topic. Instead, I’ll just quote a few lyrics.
We don’t have to be high to look in the sky,
And know that’s a miracle opened wide,
Look at the mountains, trees, the seven seas,
And everything chilling underwater, please,
Hot lava, snow, rain and fog,
Long neck giraffes, and pet cats and dogs.
Niagara falls and the pyramids,
Everything you believed in as kids,
Fucking rainbows after it rains,
There’s enough miracles here to blow your brains.
I fed a fish to a pelican at Frisco bay,
It tried to eat my cell phone, he ran away.
I see miracles all around me,
Stop and look around, it’s all astounding,
Water, fire, air and dirt,
Fucking magnets, how do they work?
Magic everywhere in this bitch.