In HateSong, we ask our favorite musicians, writers, comedians, actors, and so forth to expound on the one song they hate most in the world.
The hater: Middle-aged Michigander Karl Welzein joined Twitter back in 2010 and quickly gained an army of followers devoted to his commitment to bold flavors, top shelf margs, and working on a cocoa tan. Though Welzein is currently living out of his car—or “living a mobile lifestyle,” as he puts it—he somehow managed to land a book deal, and Power Moves: Livin’ The American Dream, USA Style is in stores now. With a little help from alter ego Mike Burns, Welzein elucidates his thoughts on fitness, boozin’, and the perfect weekend. Though he’s gone on at length about his love for rockers Sammy Hagar and Bob Seger, The A.V. Club wanted to know what song he just can’t get behind.
The hated: The Black Eyed Peas, “Let’s Get It Started” (2004)
The A.V. Club: Why did you pick this as your absolute least favorite of all time?
Karl Welzein: Just remember those clowns jumpin’ around like a buncha buffoons at the Super Bowl a couple years ago, singin’ that, “Let’s Be Retarded” pile of garbage. Made me so steamed. Coulda had anybody: Seger, Kid Rock, The Boss, Whitesnake, Billy Ocean, Van Halen… ANYONE. But some TV head honcho picked those corncobs out of his smelly backdoor, probably ’cause one of his 12-year-old daughters told him they were cool.
AVC: You have kids, right? What do they think of the Black Eyed Peas?
KW: Three kids. We don’t hang out too much ’cause I’m kinda busy with my own thing, and plus they treat me like crap. Don’t make sense. I’m pretty much their hero. Maybe we might be able to get together for a hangout after they’re older and get better taste in stuff other than chicken fingers dipped in ketchup, but we’ll see. Chicken fingers and ketchup ain’t bold flavors. And I’m a bold-flavor man from way back. No need to waste time, spendin’ time, with people you gotta pretend to get along with. Plus, lying is wrong.
’Course they like that garbage. Used to always walk around the house singin’ ’bout how they wanted to be “retarded.” So stupid. The Black Eyed Peas shouldn’t be allowed to set bad examples, like tellin’ kids to be retarded. I mean, some people are born retarded, so they can be proud of it. It’s 2013 and things are different. In the USA, you can even be gaytarded now, respectfully. People should legally be able to be what they want as long as they aren’t faking.
AVC: Are you generally a fan of the Black Eyed Peas?
KW: No. I’m all man, thank you very much. No complaints from any babe. Ask around. Only thing the Black Eyed Peas are good for is to make me wanna take a Brown Eyed Crap Break. ’Cept for that healthy Fergus babe. She really needs to ditch those pieces of trash. Love to get one on one with her. Consensually, of course. Fergus, if you’re ever in my neck of the woods, let’s possibly have a convo in a private booth at Chili’s? They do a great marg.
AVC: Do you like Fergie’s solo work?
KW: I’m kinda more of a fan of her “duets” if you know what I mean. Wink. Guy code. (And by “duets,” I mean, her rockin’ chest beefers. Just wanted to be clear, you guys.)
AVC: Do you object to the modification of the song from “Let’s get retarded” to “let’s get it started,” or to the language used in the first place?
KW: “Let’s Be Retarded?” “Let’s Get Retarded?” “We Be Retarded?” Whatever they wanna call it is their problem. But it’s got no place at the Super Bowl. They coulda ruined the whole thing. I still had a blast though. Was still kinda drunk the next day and fell asleep in the john at my old job. Legs were all pins and needles when I went to stand up after my toilet snooze. Crashed back down and knocked the lid off the tank. Smashed into a thousand pieces on the ground. Had to pick ’em all up and stash ’em in the wastebasket. Blamed it on Ken. Know who they shoulda had? Sammy Hagar And The Waboritas. Sammy woulda definitely rocked it, you guys.
AVC: What's your favorite Hagar song?
KW: Is that a trick question? No real man has one favorite Sammy Hagar song. Any real man has about 30 or 40. I mean, I could get into it, but VH’s 5150 would take about a thousand pages to really even start an intelligent discush. And that ain’t to mention solo Sammy, Montrose, the rest of the VH years, his work with the ’Ritas, and then there’s Chickenfoot. Had a RARE copy of a ’Foot CD I got from that music store, Best Buy, but my old roomie Dave scratched it up usin’ it for a coaster. Idiot. Dave was just tryin’ to show off in front of his new gal, Sue, like he was Mr. Fancy. Made me so steamed. Wanted to choke him out, but he wasn’t even worth it. Dave’s got zero class.