I would like to take a while to ponder the lyrics of one of the most lively and memorable songs in the pantheon of hair-band sexploitation romps: Def Leppard’s “Pour Some Sugar on Me”. Either the narrator of the song, let’s call him Joe Elliot (frontman of the three-decade metal sensations), has one hell of a sugar fetish or sugar is an extended metaphor for wild, guiltless, unabashed sexual revelry.
In pursuit of this metaphor, Elliot touches on that luscious cane sugar molecule, good old C12H22O11 as we chemically-minded like to call it.
Yes, in the 1987 tune, the Sheffeild-born vocalist is willing to be the embodiment of kinky rockstar slut: “Pour some sugar on me/Ooh, in the name of love/Pour some sugar on me/C’mon fire me up.” (Incidentally, this is the exact step for creating the savory crust atop creme brule—“sprinkle some additional sugar on top, and either broil or use a kitchen torch to caramelize the sugar.”) But Elliot is also not afraid to embody the courteous Englishman when he presents this thoughtful poser towards the end of the song: “Do you take sugar, one lump or two?” This is obviously a gentleman who enjoys his teatime, and who cares about his partner’s preferences. Very nice.
When writing “Pour Some Sugar on Me”, it took a bit for the boys of DL to find their way during the song’s first stanza. Until the last two lines, it’s a bit of a metaphorical free-for-all:
"Love is like a bomb, baby, c'mon get it on Livin' like a lover with a radar phone Lookin' like a tramp like a video vamp Demolition woman, can I be your man? Razzle 'n' dazzle 'n' flash a little light Television lover, baby, go all night Sometime, anytime, sugar me sweet Little miss innocent, sugar me, yeah, yeah"
But once they realize sugar is where it’s really at, the song coalesces, or caramelizes, into one amazing tune. Who hasn’t got excited when “Pour” suddenly blasts from their car radio and, singing along, found themselves, perhaps for the first time, pronouncing the word me as “may”, as in “Pour some sugar on may”. This is either a verbal affectation on Elliot’s part or he has given his “parts” the very female nickname of “May.” I am inclined toward the former.
But I do have a few questions about this anthem’s lyrics—if I may dare to question any choice made by arguably the best band with a one-armed drummer of all time. Most of the questions come when they stray a bit too far from that fantastic sugar metaphor.
Certainly there is sucrose in any fruit, including peaches, and cream would likely be sweetened. But Elliot is most enticing when he’s freebasing the pure grain, straight from the clear glass dispenser, or a C&H bag or even in polite lumps.
The peaches and cream line, though almost saved by the somewhat arbitrary injection of the term saccharine, is clearly a new metaphor: “You got peaches/I got the cream/Sweet to taste, saccharine.” It is certainly an interesting grocery checklist for an evening of raucous coitus that is not soon to be forgotten, least of all for the flaming STD liable to show up after knocking boots with a groupie-infested musician.
I would argue that the peaches and cream line detracts from our powerful sugar metaphor and, if properly exploited, could have marked an entirely new hit for the come-back kids’ “Hysteria” album. In another song, listeners could have found their world rocked by an image of spreading peaches and cream over the model in their minds or in a music video. And if peaches and cream are actually code for body parts and bodily fluids, how much more erotic is that! Yes, this line is ripe for being excised from “Pour Some Sugar On Me” and mined for all its worth in another Def Leppard offering.
But then, perhaps, like a slight flaw on a person of great beauty, or the missing head and limbs of the Venus de Milo, the imperfection helps to highlight the work of art’s virtuosity. You cannot have light without dark, day without night.
There is one other line I find a bit off-kilter. I can accept a change of metaphorical pace in the song’s bridge, and it’s damned fun to sing along with what I call The Stoplight Countdown: “Yellow light, red-a light/green light, go!”. But the next line just doesn’t seem primed to get a metal fan’s blood boiling: “Crazy little woman in a one-man show.” Is physical slightness a widely held sign of sexiness in the rock world? I mean, if you look at all the models these guys date, physical pulchritude seems to be key.
But, in case you have forgotten the gentlemanly attitude of Elliot and crew as expressed by the sugar-lump-preference question, perhaps the line is a sign of an equal opportunity kind of attitude, offering hope to petite gals, A-cups and even truly little people (see “Under the Rainbow” or an episode of “Fantasy Island” if you don’t get my drift). I mean, these boys, who opted to keep drummer Rick Allen after he lost his left arm in a 1984 traffic accident, are anything if not sensitive to all of our differences. I guess it’s pretty heartening that there is no height requirement to find a potential place in the hearts and beds of a talented and curling-iron-hot crew like Def Leppard.
Despite raising a few questions—as well as a few eyebrows with its lyrical heat—“Pour Some Sugar On Me” is patently a beautiful example of songcraft, at least to may. . .I mean me. Would not Keats have been pleased if he had written a poem with these words? I guess we’ll never know, because Keats is dead.
But Def Leppard is still around. And when Elliot rallies listeners in the song’s prelude by saying “Step inside/Walk this way/You and me, babe/Hey, Hey”, fans like me are willing to follow him.”
–post by Sarah Torribio, contributor to "No Air Guitar," available on Amazon.com. Buy the book now by clicking here
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