Mashups, like puns, mostly elicit groans. Looked down on as trite, made by schmucks who can’t write their own music but instead have to make a joke out of the hard work and passion of “real musicians.” Even an original song that isn’t any good is elevated above a mashup.
And do you know what original song I don’t think is any good?
Smooth.
Santana is allegedly a good guitarist, Rob Thomas may have once fronted a popular band, but their powers combined to form an insipid song that I never want to hear. It fills my ears like water from the pool – it’s uncomfortable and I just want it gone. I’m trying to forget about it, Rob, if you’d stop singing about it already. And then the Santana riff fades, the water drips out of my ear, and peaceful equilibrium is restored.
But don’t be surprised to find me at 1:30 in the morning, laughing in tears about the absurd juxtapositions someone like Neil Cicieraga or Bill McClintock creates, combining multiple songs into sums greater than their parts, often better than the unmodified original. Because the best mashups make you sing the wrong lyrics when you hear the original, forgetting there was ever a different version. And this is when Smooth finally becomes a song worth listening to. When, like Allstar, it’s combined, modified, transformed, into something new, it finally becomes its own thing. Not because the original parts are necessarily worthwhile, but when someone curates it with just the right combination, we go from insipid to inspired.
I’m beyond the age of controversy for the sake of controversy, so it’s not just a hot take to rile anyone up when I say on a burger blog that burgers are the Santana of food.
I’m beyond the age of controversy for the sake of controversy, so it’s not just a hot take to rile anyone up when I say on a burger blog that burgers are the Santana of food. Both are allegedly good, but we all know Santana when we hear it, and it’s the same thing we’ve always heard. The enthusiasts can pick out the nuances in his riffs like discerning why California Burgerz is .027 points better than Duffy’s Den. Most of the general population wouldn’t discern the difference in quality between a burger from the Bronx Bar and one from Miller’s. Count me in that population.
Instead of 1:30 in the morning, today at 1:30 in the afternoon on what’s known as Fat Tuesday, Mardi Gras, Shrove Tuesday, or, here in Hamtramck, Pączki Day, I went to Motor City Sports Bar (currently ranked 17th out of 27, with 3.821 points out of 5) and ordered a medium rare burger on a pączki bun. (Even living in a formerly Polish city, being partially Polish, I’m an English speaker and will refer to individual pączek as pączki.) It’s an otherwise normal burger: ground beef, american cheese, pickles, onions, tomatoes, lettuce, mayo, with added ketchup and mustard. But instead of buns, the burger has sugar glazed donut halves made with a yeasted-dough containing eggs, sugar, and animal fat. We’re about to fast for 40 days, clear out the larder.
The burger purists obviously have no interest in eating this abomination, but having enjoyed a paczki coney on Paczki day a few years ago, I was certainly willing to give this burger one shot to see how it would compare. And as with the best mashups, this combination took the strengths of each, and formed them into a whole better than the 17th best burger in Detroit, and better than the worst paczki in Detroit. What made this less-than-a-true-paczki, though, was the lack of filling, since normally there’s some fruit or creme piped in the middle. It can be argued, then, that this wasn’t a burger made with a paczki as buns, but instead, was actually closer to a cheeseburger flavored paczki. And in that regard, it was truly inspired. The mayo, ketchup, mustard, gooey cheese, tomato and beef juices, all quickly combined with some mastication to replicate the otherwise missing filling.
I did not attend the club meeting that ranked Motor City’s burger, but its ranking doesn’t surprise me. It was good enough as a burger – the meat was cooked close enough to medium rare, the toppings were flavorful enough, the cheese was melty enough, all in good enough proportion. The initial bite is sweet from the glazing. The paczki-bun consistency is plush, dense, and dry, clearing the path from the sweetness to make way for the burger flavors. The sweetness of the glaze hangs around, but the normal burger flavors dominate, minimizing the strangeness of the concoction and making it all a fairly normal burger experience. Like the tears of joy dried on my cheeks after laughter of a good mashup fades, the residual sweetness on my lips after the last bite reminded me of this delicious winter treat.
Getting take-out in a pandemic for a novelty burger doesn’t translate directly to a proper MCBC ranking, so I won’t bother. This is a special burger for a special day, and unencumbered by the calculation process I give it a blanket 3.981 out of 5.
For some, it doesn’t matter how hard Motor City Sports Bar tries, only a fool believes in mashups. In the end, it doesn’t even matter.
On the unlikely occasion that I ever eat a burger at Motor City again I’ll be singing the lyrics of this mashup, but even I don’t care if these never get back together.
Motor City Burger Club 