Somewhere in the comments section right now, someone is getting ready to call me an asshole for implying that Ray Parker Jr. is unworthy of a greatest hits album. To that person, I say, "Shut up, you're wrong." I don't care if Ray Parker Jr. has another 50 or 60 high-quality tunes to his name. The only thing anyone remembers him for is the theme from Ghostbusters. And guess what? He totally jacked that song from Huey Lewis. He was sued for it, in fact, and lost.
Now take Ghostbusters out of the equation and tell me what you know about Ray Parker Jr. Exactly, I can't hear you, because that's not how the medium we're dealing with right now works. But still, I know the answer would be "nothing." So let me ask you this: Why should we reward this man's musical criminality with something as career defining as a greatest hits album?
On top of that, holy shit, just buy the Ghostbusters soundtrack. It's got three damn versions of that stupid song. One version, we're told, is "From Ghostbusters," which I guess means there's a version out there that wasn't written for the movie Ghostbusters? And that version is at the end of the Ghostbusters soundtrack? Makes perfect sense!
Meanwhile, Ray Parker Jr.'s greatest hits album just has the one version of "Ghostbusters" and a bunch of other shit that you would have heard by now if his music was worth listening to outside the confines of a major motion picture (and the sheet music to "I Want a New Drug"). But on the bright side, if you're looking to own one of the last remaining copies of this unneeded gem, it can be had for cheap.
A bargain even at 1/20th the price!
Oh, the joys of being a Cracked columnist. Not only do I get to use my favorite words, I and me, with as much frequency as I deem appropriate, but I also get to turn in columns almost completely devoid of editorial oversight. I mean, there are limits to what I can write, obviously, but when it comes to deciding, say, what entries appear on a list that I'm writing, I'm usually free to include whatever I see fit.
And that brings us back to that first article of mine, written all those years ago. Check out the feedback from Hollywood's own David Wong from back when that article was first accepted.
I was skeptical, of course, because it was always believed by science that the last remaining Bell Biv Devoe fans were killed off in the stampede at that charity basketball event that Puff Daddy and Heavy D put on back in the day. I trust you're all still following me. Anyway, turns out that was incorrect. In an HD-video-of-Sasquatch-like twist, there was a real live Bell Biv Devoe fan stomping through the proverbial forests of the Cracked editorial staff. Fascinating. I envisioned a man in a full business suit with an Oakland A's hat turned to the right and two different colored shoes on (know your BBD history) throwing his arms up in disgust at the thought of sullying the good name of Ronnie, Ricky, and Mike.
Because I'm nothing if not fantastic at following orders, I acquiesced, not by cutting Bell Biv Devoe entirely, but instead by simply replacing any instance of the phrase "Bell Biv Devoe" with "Color Me Badd" in the finished article.
And now here we are, five years later, and I'm writing that exact same article, and this time, Bell Biv Devoe makes the list. So it would probably be a great time to mention that I fucking love Bell Biv Devoe. Always have. I'm just not above making fun of stuff I enjoy. And also, I totally don't think they "deserve" a greatest hits album, for the same reason I didn't think so way back then. All of their hits are on one album. If for some reason you want all of their studio albums, you can probably pick them up for a cumulative total of less than a dollar, just like I figured out you could with Color Me Badd way back when. The only difference is, this time, I get to have my opinion heard.
For the record, I never did figure out who it was that shot down my Bell Biv Devoe entry, but if you're reading, enjoy the most obscure Bell Biv Devoe video available online.
Also, it was Jack O'Brien.