The Stunner

Category: Break the Song Down

Author Jason Brow analyzes classic theme songs

  • Break The Song Down: MJF’s “Dig Deep”

    Break The Song Down: MJF’s “Dig Deep”

    Maxwell Jacob Friedman
    MJF

    Music has been an intrinsic part of professional wrestling. In Break The Song Down, we review the theme songs that have echoed throughout the squared circle, from the five-star classics to underrated gems.

    Hanukkah begins tonight, so it’s fitting that Break The Song Down’s first foray into All Elite Wrestling would be spotlighting the generational talent and arguably the preeminent Jewish performer in wrestling history, Maxwell Jacob Friedman.

    When I saw MJF wrestle Matt “M-Dogg 20” Cross in the first match of 2018’s All In, I thought it was the Being The Elite guys giving Cross his flowers for all the years he spent on the road as an independent wrestler. I didn’t know that I was watching a symbolic moment, with Cross—the spirit of independent wrestling’s past—facing that spirit’s future.

    Since then, AEW debuted, with MJF among its foundational stars. And I can only imagine how all the Jewish wrestling fans have felt watching MJF’s success.

    I’m not Jewish. I am the type of person who has never not been represented on television, especially in pro-wrestling. So I can only empathize with those kids who wanted to see themselves in the person holding up championship gold.

    Bill Goldberg is often No. 1 on listicles of famous Jewish professional wrestlers (and there are a lot, including Chris Adonis/Masters, Jisa Marie Varon/Victoria, Simon Gotch, Matt Sydal, Jack Cartwheel, Chelsea Durden, Royce Isaacs, and, of course, Colt Cabana).

    But outside of a 2000 episode of The Man Show, I cannot remember Goldberg being as open about his heritage as MJF is.

    MJF, on the other hand, has made his Judaism a fundamental aspect of his in-ring persona. One of the most significant AEW moments in 2023 was when MJF held a re-Bar Mitzvah, celebrating him becoming an “Iron Man” after defeating Bryan Danielson (“Clap along or you’re antisemitic,” he taunted the crowd. Brilliant.)

    MJF has also been phenomenal in crafting his multilayered persona (one part due to his refusal to break character, another part because Maxwell Friedman is not a character). He has made it clear that his heritage is not a gimmick, but who he is.

    In doing so, the audience has to confront its own prejudices. In a now-famous promo, MJF recalled the antisemitism he faced as a youth, when bullies threw quarters at him and demanded that he “pick it up, Jew Boy.” By sharing this all-too-real evil, fans had to wonder whenever they jeered him: Am I booing MJF because he’s a scumbag, or because he’s Jewish?

    After being inducted into the National Jewish Sports Hall of Fame in 2023 (a remarkable feat since he was 27 at the time), MJF told the Sports Illustrated Media Podcast that it was vital for him to show “that Jews are brave. Jews are kind. Jews are funny. Jews can be athletes. Jews can be anything. But most of all, Jews are human, and we should all be treating each other as such.”

    As a gentile, I think he’s been successful. But, who am I to say? I’m just here to talk about his theme, and if it matches with his place in wrestling history. So, let’s dig in.

    The Song: “Dig Deep”

    MJF made his pro-wrestling debut in 2015 at the age of 18. One of the first promotions to book him was Combat Zone Wrestling, where he first began wrestling as Pete Lightning, tagging alongside Hous Blazer (aka Bear Bronson). It seems he realized that the name was a dud and started using MJF as his moniker. Along with the change came a new entrance song.

    (There are some claims that MJF used Young Money’s “Trophies” in his early days, but I can’t verify it without giving CZW a lot of money I don’t have.)

    As early as 2017, MJF began using “Dig Deep” by RW Smith, a royalty-free song posted to YouTube’s Audio Library three years earlier.

    Using non-copyrighted music is a two-sided sword: the song can pop up anywhere, so you risk your song being associated with a comedy vape video (s/o r/SquaredCircle) and whoever. However, the upside is that you can take your theme song wherever you go.

    MJF used “Dig Deep” when wrestling for Major League Wrestling from 2017 to 2020, and when he joined AEW in 2019. He even brought it when he wrestled for Consejo Mundial de Lucha Libre. He may even take it with him if he ever goes to the WWE.

    Breaking It Down:

    “Dig Deep” is a synth-driven, hip-hop-inspired track that aims for the epic. It kicks off with light symbols, before the first playing of the song’s repeating theme(a lovely 1-2-3, 1-2-3, 1-2-3, 1-2-3-FOUR arrangement that I could better explain if I had a modicum of music theory knowledge).

    Ten seconds in, the minimalist intro gives way to the bombastic swagger. Electrifying keys dance around the thumping beat. It is all about confidence…until the :35 mark, when the energy drops. There’s a sort of pensive moment there, almost sorrowful. Almost.

    The song’s theme resumes at 1:00, as does the attitude, which carries through the rest of the song.

    I personally don’t enjoy wrestling themes that are one-note. That risks pigeonholing the performer to one emotion—rage, arrogance, etc.—and MJF’s theme, like him, has layers to it.

    That lull in the energy at the 0:35 mark mirrors those moments when he opened about his learning disability, enduring antisemitism, being overlooked because he’s not 6’3”, and all the other transgressions he’s suffered. And instead of wallowing in these feelings, this lull motivates the theme (and MJF) to lock in, to “dig deep” and defeat everyone.

    The only notable ding against it is that it’s all synth, and there is a strange artificial feeling listening to it. It has that slight generic sheen you find on most non-copyrighted music.

    What? The Lyrics:

    There are none, which allows the song to be as malleable as MJF’s character. Is he a bombastic heel during a championship run? Is he a wounded face showing his vulnerability by befriending Adam Cole? Is he comedic or is he serious? Whatever MFJ is, “Dig Deep” is.

    Plus, if you watch his entrance for 2023’s All In, not only do you get the instrumental version of his theme, but you hear the London fans chant along to the song. Who needs lyrics?

    The 1-2-3 Second Rule:

    “Dig Deep” nails the 3-second rule for themes: songs have up to 3 seconds to establish who’s coming out.

    If this were the Attitude Era WWE, “Dig Deep” would open with a sound byte, perhaps MJF saying his “I’m better than you, and you know it” catchphrase. I don’t think it needs it. The opening synth key makes it clear who it is. Plus, that 13-note theme begins at 0:03. That synth note is not as impactful as, say, The Undertaker’s gong or the screeching tires at the start of Mankind’s latter theme, but it does the trick.

    FINAL VERDICT

    Imagine it: eight years ago or so, MJF heard this song backstage at a random CZW show or while wrestling at the dojo. Maybe he liked it and picked it. Perhaps someone told him it would be his theme, and he didn’t object. Unbeknownst to MJF at the time, this song would play right before he wrestled in front of tens of thousands of fans in Wembley (and millions more on PPV).

    Someday, he might change it. I hope he doesn’t. Call it serendipity, call it MJF turning anything he touches to gold. Either way, “Dig Deep” is great in announcing MJF’s arrival, and reminding everyone: he’s better than you, and you know it.

    4.75/5 BAH GAWDS

    Read our previous analysis on theme songs for: D-Lo Brown, Batista and Honky Tonk Man.

  • Break The Song Down: D’Lo Brown, “Danger At The Door”

    Break The Song Down: D’Lo Brown, “Danger At The Door”

    D-Lo Brown has iconic entrance music
    photo: WWE

    Being old as hell, I remember spending many afternoons with my friend, playing the WrestleMania 2000 video game that he had stolen from his job at Blockbuster. And when it came to lock in—case matches were a pain in the ass!—my buddy, a die-hard Triple H fan, would put on WWF The Music: Volume 4, and jump to track 12: “My Time.”

    That’s usually when I would blast the first few seconds of D’Lo Brown‘s “Danger at the Door,” having ripped a copy for myself. He’d scream in frustration while furiously mashing the N64’s buttons, furiously trying to pin “Stone Cold” Steve Austin or Edge.

    Despite my friend���s hatred of it, “Danger at the Door” has since become one of WWE’s most iconic themes. You know it once you hear that needle scratch at the start, followed by the opening line announcing that we, the WWF fans, are indeed looking at the real deal now.

    And D’Lo was the real deal. After first working under the name A.C. Connor (a version of his birth name, Accie), he rebranded himself as “Downtown” D’Lo Brown when joining Smoky Mountain Wrestling as part of The Gangstas. Who knew that head-shaking D’Lo first made waves alongside Mustafa Saeed and New Jack?

    Whereas the Gangstas were destined for Philly’s ECW, D’Lo went further north to New York, joining the WWF as one of the original members of Farooq’s Nation of Domination. This not-so-thinly veiled Nation of Islam allegory got Farooq out of his silly gladiator costume. It helped launch one of the WWE’s biggest Superstars when it turned the rudderless and reviled Rocky Maivia into The Rock.

    The Nation also changed Kama into The Godfather and Mark Henry into “Sexual Chocolate.”

    It also helped D’Lo from stoic acolyte to a cocky, head-wobbling heel, rocking a chest protector that helped him secure four European Championship reigns (including a dual reign with the Intercontinental title).

    The Song: “Danger At The Door”

    First, we must ask: Is this a Jim Johnston Jam? And it certainly is.

    From the looks of it, D’Lo Brown began using “Danger at the Door” around June 1999. “Originally, that song, that track, was for Mark Henry and myself,” D’Lo told Chris Van Vliet in 2022. “The original version was a tag team version.”

    By October 1998, The Nation was done. The Rock would cement his main-eventer status at Survivor Series a month later. The Godfather was the Godfather; D’Lo got tangled up with Pretty Mean Sisters (Terri Runnels, Jacqueline Moore); and Mark embraced being “Sexual Chocolate.”

    It seems like D’Lo was in line for a push, as he won his third European title in July 1999. So, Johnston decided to come up with a new theme.

    “I remember sitting in the studio and…[Johnston] would sound bites from you, he would get little things from you,” said Brown. “He would sit there and go ‘laugh for me,’ [and] hit a button. ‘Just go woo for me.’ Hit a button. And he’d be, ‘alright, hold on a second.”

    After getting D’Lo’s approval on the rough copy, Johnston worked on a final version. “And a week later,” says Brown, “he came back with ‘Danger at the Door.’ And I was like, wow. I can’t believe that’s my music.”

    It truly is D’Lo’s music. I don’t remember D’Lo using “You Better Recognize,” his post-Nation of Domination theme. It’s like a funky NOD remix that just doesn’t fit. To me, D’Lo is “Danger at the Door.”

    Breaking It Down:

    But, at its heart, the “Danger at the Door” is a great thirty-second composition.

    The problem is that the song is over three minutes long.

    You have the opening needle-scratch: a repeating single synth note, mimicking a security alarm to put us on high alert; a police siren wails in the background; an ascending-descending guitar riff dances along to the thumping bass that shakes the ground.

    At the 1:13 mark, Johnston adds in some more synth notes. They’re a basic addition to the song, as they mimic the ascending-descending guitar riff—they go high-low-high, low-high-low. Repeat. I wonder if that was intentional, considering D’Lo’s reputation as a high-flyer. High Lo High, Lo High Lo.

    I’d call “Danger at the Door” a rap-rock hybrid, though a thin one at best. Johnston knew he had to up the energy from the plodding funk of “You Better Recognize.” And he did. But I wish he’d gone deeper. The production doesn’t stray far from Johnston’s comfort zone, and it barely dips its toes into the excitement of ’90s hip-hop.

    Still, it’s a good, versatile theme. It could pop a crowd when D’Lo was a face, or make them groan when he was a heel.

    What? The Lyrics:

    So, take the lyrics from the version released on WWF The Music: Vol. 4:

    You’re looking at the real deal now / Gonna kick your sorry ass out on the street / You used to think you own the streets / Well pack your bags, your ass is dead meat / Victory’s sweet (Bring it on) / Here’s the receipt (Bring it on)

    This rhyme scheme is basic as hell. Street. Streets. Meat. Sweet. Receipt. And repeat.

    Was someone poorly freestyling? Why is the “Here’s the receipt” off the beat? Why doesn’t it make any specific reference to D’Lo?

    What makes this verse even weaker is the original “Danger at the Door,” the one meant for D’Lo and Mark Henry.

    D’Lo debuted that version in June 1999, and it was included in WrestleMania 2000. In that version, not only do you get the titular line (“You have to know that there’s danger at the door / because we ain’t playing games anymore”), but there’s a line about D’Lo and Mark:

    There’s new sheriffs in town / You can call me Mr. Henry / and call me Mr. Brown

    Except, these new sheriffs weren’t in town for long. Less than three months after debuting “Danger at the Door,” Mark Henry turned on D’Lo at Summer Slam, causing him to lose the WWF Intercontinental and European championships to Jeff Jarrett.

    This resulted in the neutered version, with its truncated verse, a few weeks later. But you can hear a remnant of that original at the 0:34 mark, when there is a faint “Call Me Mr. Brown.” Sigh.

    Summer Slam 1999 was the peak of D’Lo’s initial run with the WWF/E. Afterwards, he had personal tragedies (the accident that permanently disabled Darren “Droz” Drosdov) and professional lulls (Lo Down, being relegated to OVW). When he returned to the Fed for a brief stint in 2008, his theme underwent a slight revision. It’s nothing to note, but I mention it here for posterity.

    The 1-2-3 Second Rule:

    “That record scratch of mine, people loved it,” D’Lo told Van Vliet. “And the minute you walked out, they let you know how they felt, whether they liked you or not, you knew instantly. Eighteen to twenty thousand people are going to let you know how they felt about you.”

    I credit Jim Johnston. The man conducts audiences and reactions. And he’s great at it, especially here with “Danger at the Door.”

    “His concept was you should know who’s coming to the ring within two seconds of hearing the beginning of their music,” said D’Lo. And Johnston nails it.

    FINAL VERDICT

    In 2002, WWE released The Anthology, a three-disc set full of theme songs. D’Lo’s theme is renamed “The Real Deal,” even though it’s still “Danger at the Door” from WWF The Music: Vol. 4. I don’t know why, other than to possibly hide that there was once an awesome version of D’Lo’s theme that we never got?

    Had the WWF/E salvaged most of the original “Danger at the Door,” it would be practically perfect. D’Lo was a solid midcarder who deserved a great theme. The lack of personalization in his solo “Danger at the Door” really hurt it. It’s still good, but it isn’t great.

    The Vol. 4 edition? 4/5 BAH GAWDS. The original wobbles its head to 4.5.

    Now, let’s get D’Lo into the Hall of Fame.

    Read our previous entrance theme breakdowns for Batista and the Honky Tonk Man. 

  • Break The Song Down: Batista, “I Walk Alone”

    Break The Song Down: Batista, “I Walk Alone”

    Batista I Walk Alone
    photo: WWE

    Music has been an intrinsic part of professional wrestling. In Break The Song Down, we revisit the music that has echoed throughout the squared circle, from the five-star classics to underrated gems.

    Life is funny. If I were to say we’re discussing a male wrestler who debuted in the first half of 2002 with a dead-in-the-water gimmick, underwent a life-changing rebrand the following year, won their first world title at WrestleMania 21 (after being involved in the botched finish of the 2005 Royal Rumble), became a featured star of the “Ruthless Aggression” era before seeking fame in Hollywood, and whose successful movie career is (currently) defined by a semi-comedic role in a superhero movie franchise helmed by James Gunn….you’d have to ask, “which one?”

    …and I would say, “the one with the butt rock theme song.”

    Dave Bautista arrived when the WWE was in a transitional period. Literally: just three days before he debuted on the May 9, 2002, episode of SmackDown!, the fed rebranded due to a lawsuit by the World Wildlife Fund.

    From WWF to WWE. “Get The F Out” became a rallying cry, most memorably when The Rock lambasted “Stone Cold” Steve Austin, breaking kayfabe on the June 17, 2002, episode of Raw, a week after Austin no-showed to avoid losing to rookie sensation, Brock Lesnar.

    This was just the tip of the Sturm und Drang going on at the time. Dave, now known as Batista, walked into a WWE that had vanquished all its foes, burned through its goodwill (thank you, Invasion storyline) and was experimenting with brand splits and brand new wrestlers.

    The wave of the Attitude Era had crested and was rolling back by 2002, and Vince McMahon knew it. Austin’s walkout forced him to reconcile that he needed new stars in the pipeline, so he delivered his “ruthless aggression” promo during a June 2002 episode of Raw, imploring Superstars to step up.

    Some did, like two new names on the roster: Batista and John Cena.

    Both men debuted in 2002 with dumb gimmicks: Cena wore the town’s sports colors to widespread apathy; the silent Deacon Batista accompanied Reverend D-Von and did nothing of note. But by November of that year, things had changed. Cena was deep in his breakthrough “Doctor of Thuganomics” role. And Batista had ditched his Deaconship, freeing him up to join Triple H’s Evolution in 2003. Lives and the WWE were changed.

    As the company navigated the waters beyond the Attitude Era, Cena and Batista built up a following. The crowd got behind them. They wanted to see these two win. And they did: both claimed a world title at WrestleMania 21 in 2005.

    That year, Cena had debuted his now iconic theme, “The Time Is Now.” It’s also the year that Batista decided it was time for him to walk alone.

    The Song: “I Walk Alone” by Saliva

    Saliva was thick in the “butt rock” pack of the early 2000s—when radio stations promised to play “nothing but rock.” It was similar to nu metal in some ways. Downtuned guitars. Singers who rapped (often poorly) as much as they sang. But it was more about partying and living it up than being sad or worrying about social issues.

    Take, for example, Saliva’s video for their first major single, “Your Disease.” Vocalist Josey Scott looks like a pair of Dave Navarro’s leather pants made a wish to be a real boy. Scott raps the verses and sings the choruses while behind the wheel of a muscle car. The video’s colors are muted in a filter that makes everything seem gray and greasy until the end. It’s the epitome of Y2k rock.

    While Saliva wasn’t as commercially successful as some of their counterparts — they never went to No. 1 like Creed or Nickelback — they left their mark on pop culture by being all over the “Ruthless Aggression” era.

    “I think our music goes hand-in-hand with the drama of WWE,” Scott said in a 2009 post on WWE.com, announcing that the band’s “Hunt You Down” would be the theme of that year’s No Way Out pay-per-view.

    And so, when it came time to re-record Batista’s theme, the WWE called up Josey and crew. It was a match made in oversized JNCOs. In a behind-the-scenes vignette on the making of Batista’s theme, composer Jim Johnston remarked it was “one of the smoothest [collabs] that ever happened. They just did a great job right out of the box, with no tweaking, no drama.”

    Breaking It Down:

    https://x.com/FadeAwayMedia/status/1981395271771926747

    “I Walk Alone” builds on Batista’s first solo theme, “Animal.” It’s a 2000s Jim Johnston Jam in the fullest sense: fuzzed out power chords; a whining sustained guitar note that leads into a weedly-weedly-wee six-string strut. More power chords. A solo no one ever hears. Fade out.

    Saliva didn’t really deviate from Johnson’s composition to the point where Jim got a writing credit on “I Walk Alone.” I wish they did.

    Because it sounds like Johnston built “Animal” from extra parts he had lying around the studio, twenty minutes before turning it in. Sorry, Jim. I hear the same plodding tempo and chugging guitars found on an Undertaker or Kane theme. That siren guitar solo is like the whine from the bridge of Triple H’s “The Game” (which, I know, Motorhead wrote it, but the point stands).

    “Animal” is the equivalent of an upper bicep black tribal tattoo: intended to be badass, slightly generic, and very dated in 2025. Saliva’s lyrics and production elevated “Animal” to something specific to Batista and gave it some character. Add in Dave’s “squat double machine gun” pose, and you have a memeable entrance.

    What? The Lyrics:

    Josey remarked how it was different to write about someone else, as most of his lyrics were personal. “I Walk Alone” is about Batista setting out on his journey after the betrayal and break from Triple H’s stable, Evolution. But anyone who didn’t know that will think the song is about alienation, frustration, and burnination.

    “This television has a poison on its breath / This counterculture of both wicked lives and death / It makes my eyes bleed every time I turn around / How will they all feel when I bring them to the ground?”

    Of course, no one would really hear the lyrics after the WWE decided not to bore us and skip to the chorus, having Batista come out to the parts that everyone knows:

    “I walk for miles inside this pit of danger / I’ve swallowed down a thousand years of anger / The weight of the world is fallin’ on my shoulders / A place where no one follows me / I walk alone.”

    Indeed, he does. Batista is a man who doesn’t need allies or friends.

    Does It Pass The 1-2-3 Second Rule?

    Wrestler themes have roughly 1-3 seconds to convey who exactly is coming out—be it to hype up the crowd or inspire dread. WWE fans have to identify the entrant immediately, which is why many themes have soundbites at the start—from Seth Rollins’ “Burn It Down!” to Stone Cold’s shattering glass.

    This feels like cheating because it is. A theme should stand on its own. And “I Walk Alone” does. Its opening guitar riff runs for about three seconds, right when everyone in the arena should be on their feet and looking to the entrance ramp.

    Is This a Jim Johnston Jam?

    Oh, you better believe it. J-J-J, all the way.

    FINAL VERDICT

    By now, you should get it: “I Walk Alone” doesn’t do it for me.

    I checked out of modern rock and the WWE in the early 2000s. Blame the lack of cable and lack of interest. So I don’t have the nostalgia for that era’s rock or its wrestling.

    But a lot of people do. And I get it. And to be fair, as a theme, “I Walk Alone” checks all the boxes: once that opening riff kicks in and Josey Scott’s scream leads you into the chorus, you know that “The Animal” is here.

    But with this song by itself? You go on without me. I’m happy to walk in the opposite direction.

    RATING: 3.75/5 BAH GAWDs.

  • Break The Song Down: Honky Tonk Man’s “Cool, Cocky and Bad”

    Break The Song Down: Honky Tonk Man’s “Cool, Cocky and Bad”

    Honky Tonk Man
    photo: WWE

    Music has been an intrinsic part of professional wrestling. In Break The Song Down, we revisit the music that has echoed throughout the squared circle, from the five-star classics to underrated gems.

    By the time Wayne Farris joined the WWF, Elvis Presley had been dead for almost a decade.

    Were he still alive, there’s no question that Vince McMahon would have tried to get Elvis to appear at one of the early WrestleManias. Elvis was a gimmick, a wrestler in every sense of the word: a larger-than-life personality, unparalleled charisma and (often) unchecked bravado.

    Instead, we got The Honky Tonk Man, a journeyman wrestler with a name lifted from a Johnny Horton song, who debuted on the Oct. 5, 1986, episode of WWF Superstars.

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    I think Elvis being dead for nine years helped Farris’s run in the WWF. By that time, Elvis had reached a universal quality. Kids who didn’t know his music could do a poor Elvis impression. Like Mojo Nixon said in 1987, “Elvis is Everywhere.”

    But again: it was the 80s. Farris’s gimmick—with its greasy hair, long sideburns, and swiveling hips—was just the right level of outdated. It was tragically un-hip. It’s the ‘80s! Hair metal and rap! Rock and Wrestling! Why is this dude still listening to Elvis? How corny. Boo this man!

    Except that the Honky Tonk Man was initially meant to be a good guy. During his first match, commentators Vince McMahon and Jesse “The Body” Ventura hyped up his friendship with Hulk Hogan. It’s the Honky Tonk Man! He’s Hulk’s buddy! Everyone loves Hogan! Cheer this man!

    Fans were never going to cheer. Farris had worked strictly as a heel before joining the WWF, and you can tell in that first match. There’s something off.

    Plus, Farris looked more like the ’68 Comeback Special version, rather than the svelte, “Hound Dog” heartthrob first crowned The King of Rock and Roll. A pudgy heel is easier to boo unconditionally; inversely, a pudgy babyface, once over, will never not be over.

    So once he had Jimmy Hart as his “Colonel” and Sherri Martel (under a bad blonde wig) as his Peggy Sue. Honky Tonk Man was almost ready for a solid run through the WWF midcard. He just needed one more thing.

    The Song: “Honky Tonk Man (Cool, Cocky, Bad)”

    “Honky Tonk Man (Cool, Cocky, Bad)” opens with a scorching rockabilly guitar lick followed by someone doing their best Jerry Lee Lewis on the piano. A steady upright bassline and nondescript drums keep the beat. It all sets the stage for Honky Tonk Man to sing those first verses.

    “I got long sideburns and my hair slicked back,
    I’m coming to your town in my pink Cadillac”

    From there, it’s the grating call-and-response repetition to drive the point home. “I’m just a Honky Tonk Man,” sings Farris, with the high-pitched backup singers adding how he’s “a Honky Tonk Man.” Rinse and repeat before Farris declares he’s “cool,” “cocky,” and “bad.”

    Usually, babyfaces don’t sing their own song. Heels do; specifically, heels who can’t sing but think they can. This song could not work if someone else were on the mic.

    Take, for example, the first Honky Tonk Man theme, a twangy southern-fried ditty with some Webb Pierce-esque guy singing “how he’s gonna chase those troubles out with a little Honky Tonkin’.”

    Honky had that first theme up until he defeated Ricky “The Dragon” Steamboat for the Intercontinental Title in June 1987, a championship he’d historically hold for 454 days.

    I presume the switch over to the second theme came around September ’87 to promote the release of Piledriver: The Wrestling Album II.

    It’s noted that the second theme includes a line about “the Snakeskin blues,” referring to Honky Tonk Man’s WrestleMania 3 feud with Jake “The Snake” Roberts.

    Honky famously El Kabong’d Jake with a guitar during a February 1987 episode of “The Snake Pit.” The first guitar shot legitimately injured Roberts, who would blame that injury for starting him down a dark path of pain pill abuse and drug addiction.

    Yeah. Nothing like having the start of your downfall immortalized in song.

    On the bridge, Honky Tonk Man decided to cross that final line: he badmouths Elvis.

     “Roll over, Elvis, let the Honky Tonk Man show you how to rock and roll
    Elvis who? He couldn’t carry a tune if it had handles on it
    Elvis let me show you how to pick that guitar.”

    See, Honky Tonk Man doesn’t think he’s Elvis or a long-lost Presley cousin (his real-life relationship with a wrestling “King” would cause some friction down the line). He doesn’t even like Elvis: Honky thinks he’s better than him.

    This is brilliant. A brash pretender thinking he’s cooler than the real thing? No wonder everyone hated him.

    Is This a Jim Jonston Jam?

    No. Jim Johnson joined the WWF in 1986, the same year as the Honky Tonk Man. But checking the credits on Piledriver, we see that J.J. Maguire and Jimmy Hart wrote Honky’s theme. Which raises the question:

    Will Jimmy Hart Pay For His Crimes?

    [Elvis voice] Uh-huh.

    During his career, Jimmy Hart composed and performed a variety of themes for the WWF and WCW. And “composed” is doing a lot of work in that sentence: most of Jimmy’s output sounds eerily similar to preexisting work.

    In this case, fans of Hank Williams would have been pissed that Honky Tonk Man had lifted the theme from “Honky Tonk Blues.”

    It’s not the worst rip-off, but Jimmy Hart needs to do a few hundred hours of community service. Maybe picking up trash around Graceland.

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    Final Verdict

    Looking back, writing a theme song for a heelish Elvis fan would be a no-brainer, right?. But as his first theme shows, you don’t always get something like “Honky Tonk Man (Cool, Cocky, Bad)” on the first try.

    Sure, it’s not something that I would throw on the playlist, but it’s also not something I would immediately skip if it came up on SHUFFLE.

    It suits the character, enhances his gimmick, and is annoying (without being too annoying). It’s cool. It’s cocky. It’s bad.

    RATING: 4/5 BAH GAWDs