Those Unbelievable Believers:

The Blessed Sounds of

Incredible Christian Song Demos

Brought to you by Deuce of Clubs

#02  "Hot Summer Nights" (4:01)

Our second selection is by an unidentified singer we'll call Robin.

Robin's accent is as twangy as the pedal steel guitar that accompanies it. Robin's tonality is as elastic as the overstretched rubber band holding together Robin's faltering sense of rhythm and, likely, reality. And Robin's sexual identity? It's every bit as frail as these weak-ass similes I'm throwing out here.

I can't imagine what a hermaphrodite performer thought a churchy record label was supposed to do with a song about "Hot Summer Nights" full of "passion in paradise." Passion? Not in church, thank you. And paradise? Personally, I can remember no more than one or two Bible stories that take place in Waikiki, and they're only minor tales at that, something to do with the seafaring lost tribes of Israel stopping off to down some foo-foo fruity island drinks after being temporarily blown off course on their way to America to bury some golden plates for Joseph Smith to find centuries later.

So it's a puzzle of a song. Possibly Robin was trying to display a Biblical versatility, Song of Solomon-style. What it really displays, of course, is a complete lack of proper theological training; otherwise, how could Robin be unaware that, just as in an Amy Grant ballad, anything sexy in the Bible isn't really sexy but is instead about Jesus. (You can be sure that if the lyrics to "I Want to Fuck You Like an Animal" had somehow been included in the Bible, pastors would be finding some way to make them about Jesus.)

Nevertheless, there's Robin, belting one out all literal-like for the lay-dees. Or the men, as the androgynous case may be. (Who knows what's going on down in the nether places with a voice like Robin's?)

And maybe that's it. Maybe this song is all about a singer aiming at self-persuasion, and praying fruitlessly for the ability to do it convincingly. Because let's face it, when Robin sings "I CAN FEEL IT!" probably not even Robin is buying that there's much of any FEELING IT going on.

Of course, it's conceivable that Robin had made a novena, or a vow, or whatever word Robin's specific misguided sect employs to refer to a rash and ill-advised religous promise to devote to God any profound talents that might be granted in response to the effectual fervent prayer of a righteous manor womanfollowing the even more profound failure of the supplicant's course of hormone therapy. (As any newly rededicated gospel singing talent of questionable sexuality can tell you, you just can't get good gender reassignment drugs these days.)

If any divinely granted talent manifested itself, clearly, it did so after Robin recorded "Hot Summer Nights."

There's a place I go to escape from my memory

I can almost hear the waves and feel the tropical breeze

I see the moonlight on her face and the wind in her hair

Her cotton dress clinging to her skin in the warm August air

Oooh hot summer nights

Oooh hot summer nights

Taste of her lips still lingers in my mind

The temperature rose as her heart melted into mine

As our bodies met you could feel the flames ignite

And the desire in her eyes heated up those hot summer nights

Oooh hot summer nights

Felt so right

Oooh passion in paradise

Oooh hot summer nights

I look at the stars and I make my wish tonight

Oh, where could she be

And is she thinkin' about me

And wishin' I was holdin' her tight?

Oooh on a hot summer night

Felt so right

Oooh passion in paradise

Oooh hot summer nights

Oooh hot summer nights

Oh, it felt so right, now, girl

Oooh hot summer nights

Can't you feel the heat now, baby?

Oooh hot summer nights

I can feel it! I can feel it!

Oooh hot summer nights

Oooh hot summer nights

Oooh hot summer