Chuck Berry’s “My Ding-a-Ling” and Other Naughty Ditties
You know that moment when someone asks if you know the meaning of the song you’re listening to? This is often followed by brief bewilderment and—depending on your talent for bullshit—an in-depth explanation or a shrug of the shoulders. Fortunately, we’re here to save you should this situation arise, which we’re sure it will, and you’ll be forced to defend why you’re belting out a song about masturbation (when you really thought you were singing along to a bouncy pop tune). In celebration of Chuck Berry’s hit song “My Ding-a-Ling” reaching number one on the charts this week in 1972 (not to mention Mr. Berry’s 87th birthday), DYR looks back at some filthily catchy tunes.
SEE ALSO: The Trippiest Songs of the ’60s and ’70s
“She Bop”—Cyndi Lauper
Always the progressive artist, Lauper wrote this song about masturbation so that little kids could think it was about dancing and learn the real meaning when they got older. But Tipper Gore and the Parents Music Resource Center wasn’t about to run the risk of having little kids with their hands down their diapers, so the organization added the song to its “Filthy Fifteen,” a list of the 15 songs they found most objectionable.
“I’m In You”—Peter Frampton
Get your minds out of the gutter. The title track off Peter Frampton’s fifth studio album was about a love so deep that it penetrates one’s soul—as he sings to his lover about “coming so far” and “making love.”
The first single from the group’s third and final studio album, In Utero, was somewhat of a collaborative effort between Kurt Cobain and wife Courtney Love, as the couple’s shared journal informed many of the lyrics. Cobain said the song was inspired by documentaries about children with cancer, but many believe it is a metaphor for Love’s vagina.
“Sugar Walls”—Sheena Easton
Here’s another track that was relegated to the “Filthy Fifteen” list, partly for its obvious reference to the walls of a woman’s vagina. The video for the song didn’t contain any sexual imagery or inappropriate content, but you don’t need to be a gynecologist to figure out that “the temperature rising inside [her] sugar walls” has nothing to do with a candy thermometer.
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