King Of Junk
From Outlandia
King Of Junk
With the doctorate in hand, the man goes public, and King Of Junk is the album’s sly Trojan horse: a glam-funk jingle so infectious you almost miss that it’s a meditation on notoriety and self-erasure. Over a strutting F-minor groove, all wah guitar and slap bass and brass stabs punctuated by literal trash-can hits, Rose builds Dr. Slump into a monument of pure repetition. The genius is in the couplets that undercut the swagger: “A sneer is praise with sharpened teeth / It still puts something underneath,” landing on the chilling little thesis, “A man ignored is nearly dead / A man despised is widely read.” The dry contralto turn from the Nanny, recalling how he asked “how his smile appeared / Not whether any child was near,” is the moment the mask slips and the whole thing goes quietly cold, the same witness who has watched him since the cradle. The Sondheim-by-way-of-Steely-Dan showmanship earns its five minutes, though the game-show outro tips its hand a touch hard for a song that had already made the point. Arriving here, it’s the record’s most quotable and most quietly damning cut, and the bright hook is what lets the poison in.
Lyrics
Madhatin, clear the curb Bundle every can When the silver trucks arrive Wave to the famous man King of Junk King of Junk Cleanest name among the muck
First time a driver called me that I told him turn the whole truck back Two boys pointed from a bus “That’s the junk guy! Look, it’s Slump!” I owned the route I owned the lot I owned the things the rich forgot But every laugh along the street Put my picture where we’d meet
Respect takes years A jingle takes eleven seconds Run it twice between the weather Recognition does the rest
Say my name with the garbage Print it ten feet high King of Junk in Madhatin On every truck that passes by It doesn’t have to flatter It only has to stick Say my name with the garbage Say it one more time
King of Junk King of Junk Dr. Slump can haul your
...stuff
We bought the slot before the news Bought the bench beside your shoes Bought the clock above the train Bought the forecast, bought the rain My face went rolling block to block Past every diner, school and dock A thousand trucks at half past three Carried yesterday and me A woman sneered outside a store Then turned to watch the ad once more She hated every word she heard But mouthed the slogan word for word
Respect is slow A jingle comes preloaded Give me ten repeated seconds I become the thing you know
Say my name with the garbage Print it ten feet high King of Junk in Madhatin On every truck that passes by It doesn’t have to flatter It only has to stick Say my name with the garbage Say it one more time
He asked if I had seen the spot It ran between the soap and stocks He asked me how his smile appeared Not whether any child was near I said the teeth looked white enough He made them run the whole thing twice He did not need a warm reply He needed proof I’d seen his face
Let them laugh They use the name Let them point They play the game A sneer is praise with sharpened teeth It still puts something underneath A man ignored is nearly dead A man despised is widely read
Say my name with the garbage Paint it on the sky King of Junk in Madhatin Make the letters twice the size It doesn’t have to flatter It only has to stick Say my name with the garbage Say it
Again
King of Junk
Again
King of Junk
Four hopeful people Four cases full of cash