Tuesday, March 09, 2004


Here's a short list of songs I LOVE - for reasons too pathetic to bother explaining, though I'll probably try - by artists I have a habit of loathing. They blow. To paraphrase an old moral cliche, Hate the artist, love the song.

JAMES TAYLOR - "Fire and Rain"
What a freakin' walking, talking wet blanket this old ninnie is. Hang him up from the nearest tree and gut him alive, I say. But what a tune! I think I've seen Sidney Lumet's Running On Empty too many times (a great movie), as this song features heavily in it and has probably warped my usually impeccable sense of judgment. Yeah, blame it on the movie.

STING - "If You Love Somebody (Set Them Free)"
Speaking of wet blankets... Why do I love this song? Pure nostalgia has warped my taste. I don't think I even liked this when it came out (too busy listening to Never Mind the Bollocks at the time), but I saw the video for it the other day and found myself disturbingly humming along to it. Sting, of course, should be killed.

FLEETWOOD MAC - "You Make Loving Fun"
What a HOOK! And what a BAND that should be slaughtered ever so painfully so!

DON HENLEY - "Boys of Summer"
Now, speaking of washed '70s West Coast coke-rockers... Don Henley, in collaboration with Frey and his denim-clad cohorts The Eagles, are of course responsible for various musical atrocities and general cultural trends worthy of some serious medieval torture, but of course there's also this to consider... Ugh, I think I need to take a shower, but then again, there's that "Desperado" song that just won't leave my head...

MADONNA - "Holiday"
"Hating" Madonna may be a bit strong, though I find her current ventures into shameless bandwagon-jumping in regards to musical/fashion styles, her timely political activism and "concern" and general status as a hopelessly-washed-up-celebrity-still-clinging-onto-the-last-strings-of-fame type fairly contemptible, to say the least. I guess she had a certain kitsch quality back in the '80s, which is possibly why this never song never fails to charm me, but whoah, if I never hear that version of "American Pie" again (or any version of "American Pie", come to think of it), I may just die a happy man.

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