Songs You Hate to Love

"Funkytown," by Lipps, Inc. Date charted: April 19, 1980. Peak position: No. 1. Dance music at its most idiotic: disco by way of Mister Rogers. But if it were on right now, you couldn't keep me in my chair with a straitjacket and a gallon of Super Glue.

The Nineties

"Shine," by Collective Soul. Date charted: June 4, 1994. Peak position: No. 11. How can I stand this weak imitation of Bad Company when I find most Bad Company tunes intolerable? The answer probably has something to do with severe head trauma.

"Personal Jesus," by Depeche Mode. Date charted: February 10, 1990. Peak position: No. 28. A song that's foolishly doomy, irredeemably portentous, and about as deep as a thimble. And when I'm in a foolishly doomy, irredeemably portentous, deep-as-a-thimble mood, there's nothing better.

"Free Your Mind," by En Vogue. Date charted: September 26, 1992. Peak position: No. 8. A blatant George Clinton knockoff that takes the guts out of one of his best lines; it's "Free your mind and your ass will follow," not "Free your mind and the rest will follow." Nevertheless, my ass still likes it.

"I'm Too Sexy," by Right Said Fred. Date charted: January 18, 1992. Peak position: No. 1. A single so moronic that you had to know it would show up in a TV commercial within months of its release (which it did). But being moronic can be a good quality. Or at least that's what I told all my teachers.

"Fall Down," by Toad the Wet Sprocket. Date charted: July 16, 1994. Peak position: No. 33. I had hoped I would be able to get through life without ever saying anything nice about Toad, one of the lamest acts currently in existence. My critical brethren will never forgive me.

Currently Guilty

"Big Bad Mamma," by Foxy Brown, featuring Dru Hill. Sampling so uninventive that you might as well listen to the original. But since the original isn't getting any airplay, this'll do.

"Here in My Bedroom," by Goldfinger. In my opinion there's too much pop-punk out there -- and there's way too much ska. So my liking this mix of pop-punk and ska makes absolutely no sense. Clearly, I need to have a long talk with myself.

"Walkin' on the Sun," by Smash Mouth. If these guys ever have another hit, knock me over with a feather. Then give me a 45 of this while nobody's looking.

"Can We," by SWV. Generic R&B harmony act asks the musical question "Can we get kinky tonight?" and my pulse rate goes up. No more Spice channel for me.

"Graduate," by Third Eye Blind. It's got a hook, okay? A big one. So don't blame me for getting snagged by it. Blame them. Blame them!

Now it's your turn.
Are there any guilty pleasures that I've missed? And do you have the nerve to share them with your friends and neighbors? If so, send your picks to us via one of three methods: snail mail (address your correspondence to Guilty Pleasures, New Times, 2800 Biscayne Blvd., Miami, FL 33137), e-mail (sbalmond@earthlink.net), or fax (571-7678, attention Guilty Pleasures). The highlights may turn up in a future issue -- and anonymity will be granted upon request. Because some of you may need it.

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