Five incredible songs that lose their appeal after one listen
Imagine writing a song so good that people want to listen to it over and over again. This is pretty much the ethos that all great bands are formed on, and the likes of The Beatles and The Beach Boys would never have made it to the heights that they’re held up to today had they not been able to write hits with immense replay value.
Now, imagine if you will, the idea of writing a song that manages to floor the listener, yet has absolutely no replay value whatsoever. This seems like something of an oxymoronic statement, but we’re not exactly talking about the sort of song written with the intention of becoming a radio-friendly hit here. Instead, we’re talking about the sort of song with a sound or theme so visceral that it doesn’t bear thinking about returning to it, due to the intense impact that it has on the listener upon first listen.
From stomach-churning soundscapes to gritty lyrical themes and harrowing vocal performances, there are many reasons why a song might stand out as a masterpiece yet not be the sort of thing you’d place on heavy rotation. Hell, a repeat listen would only be the sort of thing a sadist would truly want to commit themselves to, and you’d have to have a sturdy constitution in order to be able to withstand the psychological torment that these tracks unleash on their listeners.
There are almost certainly plenty of examples of songs that you’ll only ever want to hear once, and there are other songs that you’ll be convinced that you’re never likely to hear again because of the unlikely circumstances in which you first encountered them, but there are very few songs that will have you inexplicably wanting to enter the depths of hell a second time despite their unsettling nature.
As sublime as the following five songs are, and in some cases, as much as they’ve gone on to define the careers of the artists responsible for creating them, they’re the sort that lose all appeal after one listen, simply because of how much you’ll have to psych yourself up to go back there.
Five incredible songs that you won’t want to listen to twice:
Xiu Xiu – ‘Mary Turner Mary Turner’
It probably goes without saying that every entry on this list is of an experimental nature, given how most forms of experimental music have a tendency to test the limits of the listener’s tolerance for harshness, but on that same note, acts like Xiu Xiu wouldn’t have an audience if there weren’t individuals out there willing to indulge in the auditory depravity that they so brilliantly serve up. Frequently toeing the line between beauty and outright horror, the duo of Jamie Stewart and Angela Seo have been making music that flirts with being repulsive for almost two and a half decades.
Beneath so many of their most confrontational tracks are true stories that are even more distressing than the music they make to accompany them. A prime example of this comes from their 2019 effort, Girl With Basket of Fruit, where they tell the stories of the 1918 lynchings of Black-American couple, Mary and Hayes Turner, all in the most excruciating detail. It’s fair to say that Stewart and Seo take plenty of cues from the other artists gracing this list in their explicit narrative storytelling, and while the disturbing subject matter makes repeat listens tough, you wouldn’t be listening at all if it weren’t for the grim historical truth behind it.
Scott Walker – ‘SDSS14+13B (Zercon, A Flagpole Sitter)’
Much has been made of Scott Walker’s confounding artistic transformation from pop balladeer to avant-garde madman over the course of a half-century, but while albums like Tilt and The Drift were dramatic left-turns that stunned listeners, nothing truly encapsulates his descent into depravity like his final album, Bish Bosch. A 73-minute behemoth of abrasive and dissonant art rock, his swan song is a tough listen, and the stumbling block for many comes in the form of its convoluted centrepiece, ‘SDSS14+13B (Zercon, A Flagpole Sitter)’, which takes up almost a third of the album’s runtime.
The tense atmosphere and lack of typical song structure are one thing that the listener is forced to grapple with, but Walker’s dramatic vibrato warbles its way through the labyrinthine corridors of noise while spewing some of the most grotesque lyrics inspired by Greek and Roman tragedy, scatological humour and Dadaist nightmare fuel, and that’s perhaps an even tougher obstacle to contend with. You’ll either come out the other side changed forever and be a firm believer in Walker’s singular vision, or you’ll be longing for ‘Make It Easy on Yourself’ as a palate cleanser. It’s a work of genius, but a truly fucking exhausting one that you won’t return to in a hurry.
Nine Inch Nails – ‘Hurt’
Over 100million streams on Spotify would suggest that plenty of people actively want to listen to Nine Inch Nails’ ‘Hurt’, but that’s not to say that its popularity makes up for its inhospitable nature. Its parent album, The Downward Spiral, is as thematically hostile as one can imagine, with Trent Reznor delving into a psychosexual dystopia fuelled by drugs, depression and descents into madness, but while the opening 13 tracks are an experience akin to watching a car crash in slow motion, listening to closing track ‘Hurt’ is like having your eyes prized open and being forced to stare at the wreckage.
Very few records so perfectly capture this sense of alienation and dejection as beautifully as The Downward Spiral manages to do so consistently, and ‘Hurt’ is perhaps its most despairing moment of all. Whether you want to interpret it as being about heroin use, self-harm, or both, the song finally lets the listener see the turmoil that Reznor experiences throughout the course of the album for what it is – absolute hell. As bleak as the lyrics are, the almost nauseating glitching of the backing track makes ‘Hurt’ an even greater challenge to listen to repeatedly, and yet, it’s hard to see it as anything other than a masterpiece.
Throbbing Gristle – ‘Hamburger Lady’
What’s for dinner tonight? Are you looking forward to tucking into a nourishing meal, or are you simply looking for a quick fix to satiate your hunger after a long day’s work? However you choose to fulfil this basic physiological need, maybe don’t listen to Throbbing Gristle’s ‘Hamburger Lady’ within a couple of hours either side of your grub, because you’ll no doubt want to refuse or regurgitate it.
Even for the uninitiated, I probably don’t need to tell you that a group going by this moniker aren’t the most appropriate teatime accompaniment, but if you were foolish enough to be duped by the innocent artwork and title for 20 Jazz Funk Greats, then consider this your warning about a song from their previous album.
Inspired by a short story written by mail artist Al Ackerman, ‘Hamburger Lady’ isn’t a song about a fast-food vendor; it’s about a burns victim. Having been spared her life following a car accident, the titular lady now exists as a mere husk; the upper half of her body has been completely cremated as a result of the incident, and forced to exist in eternal pain thanks to the medical interventions sustaining her life.
As Genesis P-Orridge murmurs their way through Ackerman’s harrowing text over the top of a sinister minimalist industrial track, you can’t help but be consumed by the misery that emanates from ‘Hamburger Lady’, but that’s also what makes this one of their most arresting tracks, as sickening as it might be.
Suicide – ‘Frankie Teardrop’
As previously mentioned, Throbbing Gristle pulled a fast one on unassuming record buyers when they released 20 Jazz Funk Greats with an easy listening-inspired cover and a misleading title. Suicide, on the other hand, left nothing open to interpretation with their self-titled debut. Their blood-drenched moniker sits in contrast to the stark white background, immediately letting you know that you’re in for a discomfiting experience, but that isn’t even enough to prepare you for the diabolical world that the album’s crowning glory, ‘Frankie Teardrop’, is going to drag you into.
Following the eponymous character, a blue-collar worker descending further into a world of destitution, Suicide manage to make ten minutes feel like ten hours of being crushed by the devil’s vice-like grip through Martin Rev’s austere synthpunk motifs and Alan Vega’s tortured howls. Seeing no way out from his precarious position in life, our protagonist chooses to take matters to the extreme, shooting both his wife and infant child before turning the gun on himself, before following him in his journey into a more literal hell.
Vega’s screams alone make the song perturbing enough to warrant the expulsion of ‘Frankie Teardrop’ from most people’s playlists, but his assertion that “we’re all Frankies” highlights the grim reality that we’re all only a few steps away from entering the same hell that he endures. A lovely thought, huh?
