Last night, as I was driving home from dinner at my aunt and uncle’s house, I was listening to a local radio station. After a commercial break, the young female DJ announced that she was playing the “Cockatoo Twins” next. Or, as she put it, “The Cock…Cock…Cockatoo Twins? I can’t make heads or tails of that word.” This station likes to play obscure 80s stuff from time to time, so when I heard cock…cock…cockatoo my heart sunk.
I knew the name she was massacring. The Cocteau Twins, the Scottish band famous for their ethereal and depressing sound. To my knowledge, they never released a happy-go-lucky single. They were part of the mopey teenager’s soundtrack for moping around. Back in the day, if you had Joy Division’s Love Will Tear Us Apart in your collection, Aikea-Guinea was right behind it. I still have my twenty-two year old copy of Tiny Dynamine.
Just as I was shaking my head in disbelief, thinking it couldn’t get any worse, the DJ put on the Cock…Cock…Cockatoo Twins’ song.
It was “Frosty the Snowman”.