For more than a year now, the all-female Ghostbusters has divided our already divided nation. At every step of the way—with each announcement and new trailer—it has sown nothing but strife. But now, at last, it has given us something on which every American can agree: The new Ghostbusters song is bad.
What do I mean, bad? From Patrick Stump’s repetitive screeching to Missy Elliott’s halfhearted rhymes (“Man, these monsters be big and tall/ Ghostbusters, who you gon’ call? … They come busting in, killing all the ghosts”), this unnatural union crosses the streams of pop punk and novelty rap to achieve a total protonic reversal of musical terribleness. Try to imagine all life as you know it stopping instantaneously and every molecule in your body exploding at the speed of light, and, well, it isn’t quite that bad, but it’s certainly not good.
No, it doesn’t even have the kitschy fun of a “Batdance,” “Ninja Rap,” or “Addams Groove,” the “Kashmir” half of Puff Daddy and Jimmy Page’s “Kashmir” monstrosity for Godzilla, or the “Hey, at least we’re getting paid!” joy of Ghostbusters II’s now willfully forgotten “Ghostbusters Rap.”
So at last, we can all nod our heads in unison—lions and lambs, feminists and men’s rights activists, ghosts and busters—dogs and cats, living together! And concur: This is a bad song.
