Geoff Duncan

I am so not a lyrics person.

So I'm gathering tourist points in my hometown. Yesterday involved a visit to Seattle's Experience Music Project, which I haven't visited since shortly before it opened. (Good news: the exhibits have changed around substantially, so if the cover charge doesn't give you sticker shock, it can be a fun time. Just don't confuse it with a museum.) EMP has this feature called "On Stage" where you can go in with some other folks, put on instruments, sit behind a drum kit, or hog a microphone on a pretty-real stage in front of a simulated crowd, slamming your way through one of three pre-programmed songs - so it works even if you don't know how to play! If you do know how to play, they'll make the instruments live for you. Whee! It's loud and they'll take your band picture. You can even pick your band name: we were The Well Hungarians.

So, we're lurching through the three chords of Wild Thing and I'm gradually realizing I truly forgotten how the song goes (there's a breakdown? was that there originally?) when I glance at the teleprompter (there's a teleprompter!) displaying the lyrics to the tune.

To the left are the lyrics to Wild Thing as presented by EMP, and the right the version I'd believed correct until yesterday.

I shouldn't even try to pay attention to words...