This was written by Ann and Nancy Wilson together with guitarist Roger Fisher and drummer Michael DeRosier. According to the band, the song is a statement about the record industry in general. It was written at a time when there was friction between the band and their label. Little Queen was the first album Heart released for the CBS-Portrait label. Their old label, Mushroom Records, sued the band and in 1978 released Magazine, an album made up of previously recorded material that Heart did not want released.
The Wilson sisters revealed in various interviews that the song was about Heart's anger towards an ad Mushroom Records placed in trade publications implying that Ann and Nancy were lesbians having an affair. The song focuses on Ann's rage towards a promoter who came up to her after a concert in Detroit asking how her "lover" was. She initially thought he was talking about her then-boyfriend - band member Michael Fisher. After the promoter revealed he was talking about her sister Nancy Wilson, Ann became angry and went back to her hotel room to write the song. Nancy put suitably angry music to the words to complete the song comparing the sleazy side of music to a dangerous fish.
Lyrics
So this ain't the end, I saw you again, today I had to turn my heart away Smile like the sun, kisses for everyone And tales, it never fails You lying so low in the weeds I bet you gonna ambush me You'd have me down, down, down, down on my knees Now wouldn't you, Barracuda? Oh Back over time we were all trying for free You met the porpoise and me No right, no wrong you're selling a song, a name Whisper game And if the real thing don't do the trick You better make up something quick You gonna burn, burn, burn, burn, burn to the wick Oooo, Barracuda, oh yeah "Sell me, sell you" the porpoise said Dive down deep to save my head You, I think you got the blues too All that night and all the next Swam without looking back Made for the western pools, silly, silly fools If the real thing don't do the trick, no You better make up something quick You gonna burn, burn, burn, burn, burn it to the wick Oooo, Barra-Barracuda Yeah Ohhhhhh yea
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