I watched the premiere of Dancing with the Stars on the DVR the other night. Yes, I know, by admitting this I’ve just edged one step closer to eternal hellfire, but my wife was watching and I wanted to see how John Ratzenberger did.
What song did the producers choose to open the show with? None other than “Ballroom Blitz.”
Now, Wikipedia might insist that the song was first released by glam rockers Sweet in 1973, but God Himself on his Golden Throne has decreed that the definitive version of “Ballroom Blitz” was recorded by heavy metal giants Krokus in 1984. He will brook no argument on this. It’s not a particularly good song (in any incarnation), but back in the early ’80s it had a certain drive, power, and yes, even a little bit of anarchic menace to it.
The Dancing with the Stars band absolutely butchered “Ballroom Blitz,” like they butcher just about every piece of music that’s put in front of them. It’s actually fairly interesting to watch C-list stars try to tackle ballroom dancing, but listening to Dorky McWhiteington and His White Band massacre song after song is excruciating. (Especially given that Dorky McW is black.) Turning “The Power of Love” and “Let’s Hear It for the Boy” into schmaltzy, bar mitzvah band pop that’s even too bland for Grandma is no difficult feat, but leeching every last bit of soul out of “Chain of Fools” takes real talent. Somewhere in Guantanamo Bay, I’m convinced, there are CIA interrogators watching Dancing with the Stars and taking notes.
I find this all extremely ironic. Twenty-three years ago, when I started growing long hair and hanging out with the heavy metal kids (we were called “baggers” back then, Lord knows why), this music was scary. Judas Priest, AC/DC, Krokus, Iron Maiden, Ratt, Ozzy Osbourne, Mötley Crüe, W.A.S.P. — there was a time when parents were so worried about the influence of these bands on their children that Tipper Gore managed to make a big stink of it on Capitol Hill and cause the record industry to self-apply warning label stickers to their albums.
I’m sure that in the middle of some drunken high school or junior high school evening, my friends and I must have blasted our heavy metal music at full volume and laughed ourselves sick at the specific idea of prime time cheeseballs opening a schmaltzy variety show with a Krokus song.
Which leads me to the question: Is it possible to sustain “coolness” indefinitely? Should we even try? Or should we just accept the fact that the edgy, alternative hip-hop/electronica/garage band mashup you’re digging today will eventually be schmaltzified by Dorky McWhiteington and His White Band on Dancing with the Stars?