Friday, January 30, 2004

your dose of Japanglish

I don't think the group Cibo Matto has quite the alt-popularity in Japan that it has in the States, but their lyrics are a fun source of Japanglish.

Here's "Know Your Chicken," one of my favorites (keep in mind, the lead singer's a woman):

16 years ago, one day,
I was walking down the street
I was cruising in Brooklyn
You know what I mean?
Something was cooking,
but wasn't yet a chicken.

There was a man,
Selling chicks in a box.
He said, "2 for 1, but 3 for 2."
I said, "That's not bad,
Here's money for you."
One was magenta,
The other was blue.

I know my chicken
You got to know your chicken
I know my chicken
You got to know your chicken
I know my chicken
You got to know your chicken
I know my chicken

One day, the blue one went away.
The other grew up fuckin' well.
She was noisy every night.
I had always chicken-bite.

Then I met a lover
One night, she made me dinner.
Licking finger, I wondered
Where she got the chicken.
Then I met a lover.
One night, she made me dinner.
Licking finger, I wondered
where she got the chicken.

I know my chicken
You got to know your chicken
I know my chicken
You got to know your chicken
I know my chicken
You got to know your chicken
I know my chicken
You got to know your chicken

Spare the rod and spoil the chick
Before you go and shit a brick.
Spare the rod and spoil the chick
Before you go and shit a brick
Spare the rod and spoil the chick
Before you go and shit a brick
Spare the rod and spoil the chick
Before you go and shit a brick

I know my chicken
You got to know your chicken
I know my chicken
You got to know your chicken
I know my chicken
You got to know your chicken
I know my chicken
You got to know your chicken

She went to college to study anatomy
I followed her father's butchery
We got 2 babies. Is it cool?
One was magenta, the other was blue.

I know my chicken
You got to know your chicken
I know my chicken
You got to know your chicken
I know my chicken
You got to know your chicken
I know my chicken
You got to know your chicken
I know my chicken
You got to know your chicken...


You know what happens to people who don't know their chicken? They get yelled at in Japanglish. Here are the lyrics to "Birthday Cake," which has to be heard to be believed:

Shut up and eat!
Too bad, no bon appetit!
Shut up and eat!
You know my love is sweet!

Yes, I'm cooking for my son and his wife
It's his 30th birthday
Pour berries into my bowl
Add milk of two months ago
"It's moldy mom, isn't it?"
I don't give a flying fuck though

Shut up and eat!
Too bad, no bon appetit!
Shut up and eat!
You know my love is sweet!
Shut up and eat!
Too bad, no bon appetit!
Shut up and eat!
You know my love is sweet!

It's food nouveau
It's food nouveau
It's the shape of love
Beat it! Beat it up!
Beat it! Beat it up!

Extra sugar, extra salt
Extra oil and MSG
Extra sugar, extra salt
Extra oil and MSG

Shut up and eat!
Too bad, no bon appetit!
Shut up and eat!
You know my love is sweet!
Shut up and eat!
Too bad, no bon appetit!
Shut up and eat!
You know my love is sweet!

You were born in the 60's
We made a war with the Vietnamese
We loved LSD, we died easily
Can we just say c'est la vie?
So what! Say what! For your own sake
Do you have a headache or heartbreak?
Are you made or broken by the birthday cake?
You may be slow on the uptake
I pour pot in the birthday cake
So what! Say what! For my own sake
Watch out yo! Here I come yo!
I'm gonna change to a rattlesnake
Turn up the TV! Do you agree?
Yeah, I'm talking turkey Take it from me
I'm gonna show my love for my dove
"But it's moldy, mom, isn't it?"

Extra sugar, extra salt
Extra oil and MSG
Extra sugar, extra salt
Extra oil and MSG

Shut up and eat!
Too bad, no bon appetit!
Shut up and eat!
You know my love is sweet!
Shut up and eat!
Too bad, no bon appetit!
Shut up and eat!
You know my love is very sweet!


You have to imagine this song being shouted except for the "you know my love is sweet" parts. And you have to imagine the lead singer's voice-- girlish and high-pitched. For you American folks who know little about Asian pop female singers, imagine you're being harangued by a particularly nasty eleven-year-old girl. That's what most such music sounds like.

I love Cibo Matto, but not enough to own one of their CDs. That's why I have a brother like Sean, whose musical tastes range all over: he owns all the CDs. If it weren't for Sean, I'd know nothing about Cibo Matto, Pizzicato Five (at least one song featured in the first "Charlie's Angels" movie), Bjork, Dirk McGirt (formerly Big Baby Jesus, formerly Ol' Dirty Bastard, or "ODB"), etc. Little Bro keeps me from being completely ignorant of what's going on in culture.

_

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