Mixtape: August 2006
The Love That Dare Not Speak Its Name:
The Modern Pea Pod's August 2006 Mixtape
The Modern Pea Pod's August 2006 Mixtape
It happens to the best of us. At the beginning of this summer, I was listening to Bob Dylan and Miles Davis and preparing a senior thesis on Surrealist cinema...by mid-August, I suddenly realized that my desktop wallpaper was a picture of Paul Stanley from KISS. There's something about these summer months that makes our innermost pop culture demons come to the fore; something that makes us settle for second (or third) best when normally we would demand the cream of the crop. Why else would summer be the season of the blockbuster movie, the reality TV show, the half-baked '80s reunion tour? Why else would otherwise reputable music critics always find themselves debating the anthemic 'song of the summer' by August's end, with the recipients of this dubious honor invariably being the likes of Gwen Stefani, Kelly Clarkson and Mariah Carey? Maybe it's the whole "dog days" syndrome, making our intellects and our aesthetic preferences as sluggish as our overheated bodies. Maybe it's all that sun. But in any case, one thing's for sure: summer is the season of the guilty pleasure.
You know what I'm talking about. It's the song that will make you roll your windows up and turn your volume down on even the sultriest of summer days. But will you change the station? Hell, no. Because like the other simple joys of summer - sprinklers, wading pools, ice cream trucks, etc. - the guilty musical pleasure is irresistable, no matter how embarrassing it might be. Of course, now, in late August, summer is almost behind us; our guards are coming back up, and by the fall we'll be scholars and wannabe jazz enthusiasts again. But for now, here are some of our personal vices, ready to be relished in private until next summer comes along. And maybe, with a little courage and a good pair of headphones, you'll be able to admit to yourself, however shamefacedly, that you actually enjoy them year round.
Side A
0:05 - Hillary Duff: "Come Clean" (3:34)
And lest you think we're kidding around, we begin our musical confession with arguably the most embarrassing track featured on our website thus far: a 2003 teen-pop confection from a singer best known for starring in Disney's Lizzie McGuire and, later, dating the equally cringeworthy Benji Madden of Good Charlotte (we'll leave out the catfights with Lindsey Lohan, since in this genre, let's face it, they're obligatory). But dammit, no matter how lame the singer, David Koenig can't resist the song. And the fact that it's called "Come Clean" just makes it that much more appropriate for this month's theme: "It's a damn shame about modern preteen girl pop. The hooks are among today's best; it's too bad that the production is usually boring, the lyrics vapid, and the singers bland and interchangeable. Sometimes hooks are enough, though - Sufjan Stevens wishes he could write a melody this emotional."
(Available on Metamorphosis)
3:39 - The Fugees: "Killing Me Softly" (4:58)
Why is an offensive hit cover tune by a respected 1990s hip-hop group a guilty pleasure? Let me put it this way: remember that scene in About a Boy when Toni Collette and her onscreen song sing the original version together...with their eyes closed? Laura Misjak elaborates: "Who doesn't love 'Killing Me Softly?' And the Fugees' remake of the 1973 Roberta Flack classic sets amore modern, urban tone to the already passionately sorrowful ball-breaker. Some might not consider this song embarassing to be caught listening to, but the dour demeanor mixed with the soulful lyrics create a contagious concoction, causing listeners to croon on cruise-control. Hence, listening to the Fugees' 1996 'Killing Me Softly' generates a deep desire to sing along, unloading any qualms, puerile or significant, for Lauryn Hill and co. to squelch, making this song the dark chocolate center of a raspberry truffle. It makes you just want to delve in."
(Available on The Score)
8:37 - Dio: "The Last in Line" (5:47)
Zach Hoskins: "There are few genres as guilty - or as pleasurable - as heavy metal. And we're talking the good stuff: shredtastic solos, 40-piece drum kits, and lyrics as likely to draw from juvenile Dungeons & Dragons sessions as from juvenile sexual fantasies. And in this hallowed pantheon, there are few rock warriors as enduringly awesome as Ronnie James Dio. The man's been singing his 'songs of wildebeests and angels,' as Jack Black put it, since 1972, when his first band of note, Elf, released their Roger Glover-produced debut LP; the 30-plus years since have seen the diminuitive frontman work his black magic on Ritchie Blackmore's Rainbow, the post-Ozzy incarnation of Black Sabbath, and of course, his own indelible (and ongoing!) solo career. So in other words, this guy's metal credentials are pretty much without peer - he even invented the two-fingered "horns of the devil" salute, for Christ's sake! But the question is, when you're dealing with an indisputable musical giant, how does one select a single track to best illustrate His supreme heaviosity?
"My answer, after much deliberation, has to be Dio's 1984 classic 'The Last in Line.' And here's why: maybe the song starts slow, with a ponderous opening mini-verse over gently picked electric guitar, but it's less than a minute before the metal godfather has you punching your fist in the air, as he lets loose with a ferocious roar over a wall of guitars and synths. And he doesn't let up from there. In short, this song rocks - from its uber-portentous (and suspiciously Christian) lyrics to Vivian Campbell's mind-blowing flurry-of-notes solo. And while Dio might have lent his sacred vocal chords to better-known or more iconic songs ("Stand Up and Shout," "Rainbow in the Dark"), how many of those other songs had a video which featured the man himself grabbing a lightsabre and bashing a Fasco-demonic villain in the nut sack? ROCK!!!"
(Available on The Last in Line)
14:24 - Justin Timberlake: "Rock Your Body" (4:31)
If our list so far - or, okay, maybe just the Fugees track - has proven anything, it's that a song needn't be a bad song to be a guilty pleasure. Sometimes, it can just be the way it makes you humiliate yourself by singing in public, or getting into heated one-sided discussions about whether Viv Campbell or Eddie Van Halen was the better shredder (for the record, it's Campbell by a mile). And sometimes, it's because the singer is such a completely repellant, embarrassing human being, his music will forever be tainted by association. Megan Giddings has the perfect example: "Listen Justin, I know you're not black. You know you're not black. And really, do you actually want to be Michael Jackson? But whatever, Justin. Whatever. You made the number one indie guilty pleasure of 2002. Everyone remotely cred-conscious tried to make it seem cool. They tried to blame it on the Neptunes. And sure, sure, sure, that Neptunes production is almost always fucking hot. But listen to those lyrics, those desperate attempts at being flagrantly sexy, the word 'NEKKID,' the atrocious beat boxing... And how about the fact that you can literally hear him sing, 'Doot Doot da doo?' This is not a cool song. But, dammit, not even I can walk away from this shit."
(Available on Justified)
18:55 - Alanis Morissette: "Head Over Feet" (4:27)
More than anything, though, the guilty pleasures we hold dearest are the ones we once loved without guilt - those albums we bought when we were 11, 12, 13, and which moved further and further away from the rest of our collection with every passing year. Now they're somewhere in the bottom of the closet, collecting dust and mold with the rest of our dirty laundry, but we still can't bear to throw them out, sell them or give them away. So when Laura confesses of her abiding love for the Alanis Morissette of Jagged Little Pill, she speaks for every girl who was young and impressionable in 1995...and for all of us: "I was an Alanis Morissette fanatic throughout middle school, with the phase beginning when I got one of my first CDs, Jagged Little Pill, for my 11th birthday. I knew every word of every song, even the secret track. I was a coldstone feminist, and I wasn't even 12. Once I reached high school, Alanis and I kind of drifted apart, but we rekindled our relationship when my brother told me he was dating someone who's like second cousins with her, and all the feelings came rushing back. I admit it's cool to have liked Jagged Little Pill then, but to still listen to it, as I do sometimes, and even to listen to her other stuff, is a bit embarrassing I think. It doesn't stop me, I just don't let anyone know. Until now. But I'm sure that every other premature badass does the exact same thing." (Full disclosure: Laura didn't specify a particular track when she submitted her entries. So what you're now hearing is Zach's favorite song from Jagged Little Pill. Yes, he has one.)
(Available on Jagged Little Pill)
23:22 - Jay-Z: "99 Problems" (3:54)
Zach: "As anyone who's watched the opening credits sequence of Office Space would agree, there are some perfectly good songs which can turn suddenly into the guiltiest of guilty pleasures, all depending on the person who's listening to them. '99 Problems,' a back-to-basics hit for Jay-Z off his 2003 Black Album, is a perfectly good song. In fact, it's a great one, with a thunderous Rick Rubin production that takes you right back to the days when Run-DMC were grafting the big riffs and bigger beats of rock music to the streetwise rhymes of hip-hop. But just picture some mop-headed indie rocker in Elvis Costello glasses and an ironic T-shirt, bumping down the street in his father's Sebring to lyrics like these: 'Now once upon a time not too long ago / A nigga like myself had to strong arm a hoe / This is not a hoe in the sense of having a pussy / But a pussy havin' the goddamn sense to try and push me.' Need I say more?"
(Available on The Black Album)
27:16 - Bright Eyes: "Bowl of Oranges" (4:48)
Most of the songs on this tape so far, quite frankly, haven't been what you would call 'hip.' But let's not make the mistake of assuming that a guilty pleasure must necessarily be unhip to be embarrassing. In fact, sometimes it's precisely an artist's infuriating hipness - and that of his admirers - which will make you hate yourself for loving him. Megan explains: "Most people wouldn't consider Bright Eyes a guilty pleasure, but personally, I hate him. I hate his stupid hair, I hate his stupid tragic artist posturing, and I hate his trembly 'bitch just saw Bambi's mother get shot for the first time' voice. Oh, and P.S. Conor, YOU ARE NO BOB DYLAN. But at the same time, I have even had dreams with 'Bowl of Oranges' playing in the background. The melody is addictive. I like the words. He's not crying. And I don't know why...but Bright Eyes, baby, you + me forever. Like a bowl of oraaaaaaaaanges. Like a story told, baby."
(Available on Lifted, or The Story is in the Soil, Keep Your Ear to the Ground)
32:04 - Def Leppard: "Photograph" (4:08)
Zach: "I have about as many reasons to hate Def Leppard as I have musical tastes. As an occasional indie snob, I hate them for their reliance on big hooks, big production, big ballads and big stadium shows. As a more than occasional connnoiseur of rock'n'roll, I hate them for their often sucked-dry, overly processed, pussy-ass sound; they were 'hard rock' made explicitly for the teenage girls they wanted to get backstage, no ifs, ands or buts about it. So yes, I hate Def Leppard. But I don't hate 'Photograph.' Something about this song just works for me: the simple, catchy opening riff, the glam rock strut of Joe Elliott's vocals. Sure, the chorus is pure '80s schlock rock, the kind Def Leppard spent most of the rest of their careers perfecting; but everything else in 'Photograph' makes me want to cut the sleeves off my Union Jack T-shirt, tie a bandana around my neck, and start practicing my high kicks...in private, of course."
(Available on Pyromania)
36:12 - Foreigner: "I Want to Know What Love Is" (5:03)
David: "The last time I heard this '80s hair ballad, I was hanging out in a small group. We all sang along and rocked out. Half a bottle of absinthe later, nobody was wearing clothes. From then on, I have associated 'I Want to Know What Love Is' with irresponsibility and decadence. Which is perfect, really, for such a shameless pomp rocker. You know that when Foreigner weren't picking out new spandex, they were probably banging underage groupies. When a life like that sounds awesome, there's this song. When it sounds unfulfilling and immoral, I can always go back to Scott Walker."
(Available on Agent Provocateur)
41:15 - Letters to Cleo: "I Want You to Want Me" (3:25)
Okay, before we close out Side A with this song, let's get one thing straight: the original 'I Want You to Want Me,' by Illinois post-glam power pop forefathers Cheap Trick? Not a guilty pleasure. The 10 Things I Hate About You soundtrack, overemotive girl singers, and handclap breakdowns? Guilty as charged. Proceed, Megan: "Look, we can't all appreciate high art and be jazzmos and shit. I like the song 'I Want You to Want Me.' I like to sing the song 'I Want You to Want Me' with one of my friends when no one else is around. We know all the words. Once, we performed it in front of a busload of people. They were so embarrassed for us that they pretended that we weren't even there. It was pretty awesome."
(Available on the 10 Things I Hate About You OST)
Final Runtime: 44:40
Side B
0:05 - The All-American Rejects: "Move Along" (4:00)
The definition of the guilty pleasure is a simple one: a song (or movie, or TV show, etc.) that you know you should hate, but love in spite of yourself. And if it were up to me, right next to that definition in the dictionary would be a picture of Abby Stotz' next contribution: "I know they represent the worst of emo - clean-shaven pretty boys barely breaking a sweat as they wax rhapsodic over inner turmoils in a slick
MTV video. But 'Move Along' by the All-American Rejects is the guilty pleasure of my summer. Every time it comes on my car radio, I give it my best emo wail, singing along with the ridiculous echoes and redundant lyrics. 'Move Along' is melodramatic and overproduced - and I love it."
(Available on Move Along)
4:05 - Deee-Lite: "Heart Be Still" (4:10)
In this era of irony as nostalgia and "one-hit wonder" as a marketing term, there's no shame in having a few Quiet Riot or Flock of Seagulls MP3s on your iPod. But what if you don't just have an MP3...what if, indeed, you purchased the entire discography by a mainstream but little-heard footnote in musical history? On that note, Zach has a confession to make: "I own every album by Deee-Lite. Proper albums, that is; I don't own their Best Of or the Sampladelic Relics & Dancefloor Oddities disc of remixes, though the fact that I know of these records' existence should tell you something about the thoroughness of my buying habits. But yes, I love Deee-Lite, and to tell you the truth, I don't know why. I could tell you that they're better than any other '90s dance act, and indeed their natural funkiness and eclecticism (aided by the appearance of P. Funk legends Bootsy Collins and Maceo Parker on the first two albums) does put them head and shoulders above the likes of Everything But the Girl and La Bouche, at least in my mind. But deep down, I know that they're really just a great song with a band and three unnecessary full-lengths attached; they'd be just as great, if not greater, had 'Groove is in the Heart' come out as a 12" and they'd crumbled immediately afterward. But that didn't happen, so here it is, a lesser but worthy album track from their diminishing-returns 1992 sophomore release Infinity Within. All the trademark elements are present and accounted for: a driving snare and hi-hat beat. A looped piano melody. Lady Miss Kier's soulful voice and absurd lyrics. Bootsy yelling things. In short, it's Deee-Lite being Deee-Lite, roughly two years after the rest of the world stopped caring. But I still care, guys. And for the record, World Clique and Dewdrops in the Garden are pretty damn good too."
(Available on Infinity Within)
8:15 - Dashboard Confessional: "Don't Wait" (4:03)
David: "Music critics have seriously lightened up about guilty pleasures. These days it seems that everyone freely admits to loving 'Toxic,' 'Since U Been Gone,' and the Young Jeezy album. The one exception to this lovely trend is rock music. Dance, rap, and even boy bands can now be critic-approved, but bands like AFI or Yellowcard remain off limits. Maybe it's because rock is nerdy, or maybe it's because most critics were raised on rock music. Whatever the reason, 'Don?Äôt Wait' would have been the guilty pleasure du jour this summer if rock guilt were more fashionable."
(Available on Dusk and Summer)
12:18 - The Monkees: "A Little Bit Me, A Little Bit You" (2:51)
Zach: "Everybody's got some musical skeletons in their closet, and if this tape has proven anything, it's that I'm no exception. But while others' musical mishaps, especially the childhood ones, can be explained away by any number of factors - radio oversaturation, peer pressure, a blind urge to piss off one's parents - with me things were never so simple. When I was between the ages of 13 and 15 years old (maybe longer - I may be suppressing), I loved the Monkees. Like, loved them. I listened to their music constantly, I quoted at great length from the liner notes of Rhino's late '90s reissue editions, I loved both Head and 33 1/3 Revolutions Per Monkee, and though I never got around to mentioning them in the same breath or the Beatles or anything, I did have a dream about meeting Micky Dolenz and having him sign my Hey Jude shirt, so maybe that's a sign of what would have been had I not nipped my obsession in the bud. And nip I did; I moved on to other musical loves (much to my parents' relief, who perversely would probably have rather I developed a taste for punk or heavy metal than keep blasting Headquarters at all hours), and within a few years, I'd traded in all seven (!) of my Monkees CDs for cold, hard cash.
"At the time I was mortified that my Monkees fandom had ever run as deep as it once did; but now, while you're unlikely to see me in a green wool cap anytime soon, I like my Monkees just fine. The first two albums (and, with reservations, the third and fourth) are sublime bubblegum pop, probably the best you're likely to hear. And whenever 'A Little Bit Me, A Little Bit You' pipes into my local supermarket, I break into a big, goofy grin. So kids, just remember: your guilty pleasures won't always make you feel like a musical moron. Once you turn 20, they'll just become kitsch, and you can start happily listening to your Monkees albums and singing along to those sublime teenybopper melodies all over again."
(Available on The Best of the Monkees)
15:09 - Howie Day: "Collide" (4:09)
Laura: "I'm sorry. I'm a girl. I have a vagina. I like this song. Oh Howie Day, how you make me want to hide and listen to your preciously girlified songs as I pretend to tousle your long, sort of spikey, manic depressive hair."
(Available on Stop All the World Now)
19:18 - The Rolling Stones: "Dance (Pt. 1)" (4:23)
Zach: "As a Rolling Stones fan, I should hate Emotional Rescue. As a rock'n'roll fan, I should hate Emotional Rescue. Hell, even as a human being, I should probably hate Emotional Rescue. This was the album, after all, when the Stones' late-'70s disco obsessions finally reached the tipping point; when they dropped all pretense and became the groove-oriented pop act they'd been threatening to become since Goats Head Soup, their rockers growing hopelessly flaccid and non-threatening in the process. It's the true beginning of the end for the classic Stones, pretty harsh words considering their 'last great album,' 1978's Some Girls, already pales in comparison to landmarks like Sticky Fingers, Exile on Main Street and Beggars Banquet. But the thing is, I kinda like the disco Stones. To my mind they were the most convincing rock dinosaurs of their era to make the leap to dance music - and, lest we forget, they were certainly not alone - with Charlie Watts' impeccable sense of rhythm, Bill Wyman's loose, funky bass lines and Keith Richards' organic, economical guitar work forming a solid backbone for plenty of overlooked minor classics. And 'Dance (Pt. 1),' off the dreaded Emotional Rescue, is the best of these minor classics. Now granted, this is hardly the Stones doing what they do best. For that you'd need to see Exile, Fingers, Banquet, hell, even Let It Bleed. But when it comes down to it, given the choice between 'Dance (Pt. 1)' and spineless 'Brown Sugar' rewrites like 'Start Me Up,' I'll get up, get out and get into something new...every time."
(Available on Emotional Rescue)
23:42 - Carl Douglas: "Kung Fu Fighting" (3:15)
Over the course of this mixtape, we've tried to make a case for some of the songs we hate to love. Some of our attempts have been more successful than others, but by and large, we think you've gotten the point. There are some songs, however, which are beyond mere explanation; songs so abhorrent, so ridiculous, and yet so insidiously catchy, that you can only accept your perverse love for what it is: completely, even insanely irrational. You all know a song like that. And now, Megan will introduce us to the most irrational of them all: "I hate it when someone pretends that every lousy song they listen to is a brick of musical gold shat out by Mozart on a sunny June afternoon. There are songs which can't be defended, which defy any attempt at a pretentious face-saving pedestal. And, I give you the king of those songs: Carl Douglas' 'Kung Fu Fighting.' There's plenty here to make even the most ironclad of unselfconscious musical sensibilities squirm. There are the several attempts at making kung-fu grunts. There is the fake Asian-style music put over a funk backing. And then there's the pretentious orchestration at the beginning of the song; the phrase 'Funky Chinamen from Funky Chinatown,' and of course, the monumental cry of, 'Here comes the big boss - let's get it on!' But at the same time, despite all of its faults, 'Kung Fu Fighting' is the horribly awesome song you want to hear at a wedding reception. You want to see all of your uncles embarass themselves with an awkward kung-fu dance that they made up spur of the moment. You just don't want anyone else to know that you do the same dance in your room every time the song pops up on your iTunes playlist."
(Available on The Best of Carl Douglas: Kung Fu Fighting)
Aaron Commandeers the Mixtape: "At first glance, this month's mixtape seems tailor-made for yours truly. After all, I regularly write at length on this very website about my love for television kitsch like Degrassi Junior High, and my secret enjoyment of Bollywood films. I have talked, at length, about a great love for bands like the Spice Girls, and for the last mixtape, I submitted Cyndi Lauper's 'Girls Just Wanna Have Fun.' Hell, I'm even the token punk-rock writer among a group of people who tend to greatly frown upon such genres. This is precisely the problem, though. I have no problem admitting these tastes of mine on a regular basis. And why not? If you ask me, the whole 'guilty pleasure' concept is a bit flawed.
Guilt, shame, fear, and self-loathing are not things we should be striving after. Hedonism, truly, is the answer. There is nothing wrong with pleasure. Ever. One should have no problem admitting his or her pop culture loves. If it makes you happy - go for it. This is what I try to do. I am not embarrassed that I sometimes love things that are a bit sugary sweet and poppy, full of silly teenage angst, or just meaningless. I have no problem admitting this publicly. I do not run from my happiness.
And so, as a protest of what I view to be a philosophically flawed tape theme, I submit the following 15 minute and 41 second block of music devoted to the pursuit of pleasure. These are songs which have no problem declaring the glories of vice and the virtues of sin. As long as it feels good, they will let you do it. And frankly, I have no problem admitting I like them too."
26:57 - Compute: "Dance with Me" (3:11)
"First up is a song which revels in a simple enough pleasure: the art of dance. Indie synth-popper Compute begs the listener in 'Dance With Me' to do just that. To resist the music, is to deny yourself a moment of joy. True to its word, the song itself will bring you out on the floor before you know it."
(Available on Hello! Surprise!)
30:08 - Donna Summer: "Hot Stuff" (3:51)
"And speaking of dancing, I present to you the queen of the Disco Era. Donna Summer's 'Hot Stuff' is brutally frank in its design. She knows what she wants, and she's going to demand it. It's a declaration of the enjoyment of passionate, sweaty, hot, hot sex - right down to the breathy moans that Summer was so famous for."
(Available on The Journey: The Very Best of Donna Summer)
33:59 - The Reverend Horton Heat: "Bales of Cocaine" (2:11)
"While the body, clearly, is equipped to offer a variety of natural physical pleasures, chemical aid is sometimes a great help. Rockabilly revivalist Rev. Horton Heat has sung extensively on this issue. There have been tracks praising the values of beer, marijuana, and a variety of different cocktails. One of the special highlights, however, is 1993's 'Bales of Cocaine.' Here is a song that not only celebrates a top-rate narcotic, but also the world of quick money and illegal dealings. Fantastic."
(Available on The Full-Custom Gospel Sounds of the Reverend Horton Heat)
36:10 - Social Distortion: "Pleasure Seeker" (3:33)
"There is, however, only one song that could truly cap off this descent into orgy. To quote Mike Ness: 'Who wants to fight temptation, that's no fun / C'mon and play the games, don't you feel no shame / That's what Eve said to Adam before she came / ...There's damnation and disgrace, and guilt rears its ugly face / Yet you beg for more, just a little more.' 'Nuff said."
(Available on White Light, White Heat, White Trash)
Zach Wrests Back Control: "Okay. We get it. We shouldn't feel guilty for loving the music that speaks to us, blah, blah, blah. But think about this for a minute: if there was no such thing as a guilty pleasure, where would we be? What if every mixtape you ever received from a friend or potential suitor was full of terminally uncool (but secretly lovable) tracks by Gordon Lightfoot, Kip Winger and the Lovin' Spoonful? What if your favorite band came onstage and announced that they wanted to perform a straight cover by 98 Degrees? And seriously - if you hadn't been afraid that the record store clerk was going to give you shit for buying Kick by INXS, would you really have bought that Pixies album? What I'm trying to say is, mental functions like guilt - or, more neutrally, conscience - are what keep us from spilling over into complete chaos; the Superego is as crucial an element to the human psyche, individually and socially, as the Id. And just as social taboos keep us from raping and pillaging our neighbors, so musical guilt keeps us from committing equally egregious pop culture sins.
"So go ahead, turn your iPod volume down when the S Club 7 track comes on. It's a perfectly natural instinct that will keep you striving for better music - because while guilty pleasures are as sugary sweet as a candy binge or a McDonald's breakfast, no one can live on pleasure alone. Sometimes, we need meat and potatoes, music that sustains our minds as well as our ears. But in the meantime, let's finish our celebration of the guilty pleasure, with a song I'm willing to bet few of you would ever admit to liking before at least two drinks..."
39:43 - Journey: "Don't Stop Believin'" (4:10)
Zach: "Now, before you decide that the Modern Pea Pod has officially lost all credibility, let me just say this: I am not, by any stretch of the imagination, a Journey fan. 'Wheel in the Sky' and 'Open Arms' both bore me to tears, thank you very much, and 'Separate Ways' is basically only notable as the Holy Grail of Cheesy Music Videos. But I've secretly liked 'Don't Stop Believin'' ever since my senior year of high school. Why? Because that was the year when I played in a Journey cover band. I'm dead serious.
"Now, obviously, I wasn't the one in charge of our musical destiny here. Again, I was not a Journey fan, then or ever. But my friend was, and I played drums, and so I joined the band. We had exactly one performance - a high school Battle of the Bands, which I regrettably had a hand in arranging and promoting - and our set consisted almost entirely of Journey cover songs, the show-stopping centerpiece of which was (you guessed it) 'Don't Stop Believin'.' And being a dutiful friend and bandmate, I learned the fucking song. I rehearsed it over and over again, I listened to it in my spare time, I knew it intimately from the opening piano line to the triumphant fade-out. And somewhere along the line, I began to love it. I loved the way the guitar and drums slowly built up before the first chorus. I loved the guitar solo. And on the night of the show, under the lights at my high school auditorium as we hit that final refrain and I began to wail on my ride cymbal, I realized: this fucking ROCKS. This is a GREAT SONG. Now of course, that wasn't entirely true; 'Don't Stop Believin'' is by and large a thoroughly mediocre, melodramatic piece of AOR shit. But there's some kind of magic in the mix that makes it transcend such easy write-offs; somehow, it's better than any other cornball 'victory rock' anthem you can name. It is, to my mind, a shining example of the guilty pleasure - perhaps the greatest of all time. So folks, let's put aside our petty prejudices, join hands, and board the midnight train going anywhere. Hold on to that feeling. And yes, just this once, you have my permission to belt along to the most oddly sublime song ever associated with Steve Perry."
(Available on Escape)
Final Runtime: 43:53
Total Runtime (Sides A & B): 88:33
Download the full-sized tape cover here.
You know what I'm talking about. It's the song that will make you roll your windows up and turn your volume down on even the sultriest of summer days. But will you change the station? Hell, no. Because like the other simple joys of summer - sprinklers, wading pools, ice cream trucks, etc. - the guilty musical pleasure is irresistable, no matter how embarrassing it might be. Of course, now, in late August, summer is almost behind us; our guards are coming back up, and by the fall we'll be scholars and wannabe jazz enthusiasts again. But for now, here are some of our personal vices, ready to be relished in private until next summer comes along. And maybe, with a little courage and a good pair of headphones, you'll be able to admit to yourself, however shamefacedly, that you actually enjoy them year round.
Side A
0:05 - Hillary Duff: "Come Clean" (3:34)And lest you think we're kidding around, we begin our musical confession with arguably the most embarrassing track featured on our website thus far: a 2003 teen-pop confection from a singer best known for starring in Disney's Lizzie McGuire and, later, dating the equally cringeworthy Benji Madden of Good Charlotte (we'll leave out the catfights with Lindsey Lohan, since in this genre, let's face it, they're obligatory). But dammit, no matter how lame the singer, David Koenig can't resist the song. And the fact that it's called "Come Clean" just makes it that much more appropriate for this month's theme: "It's a damn shame about modern preteen girl pop. The hooks are among today's best; it's too bad that the production is usually boring, the lyrics vapid, and the singers bland and interchangeable. Sometimes hooks are enough, though - Sufjan Stevens wishes he could write a melody this emotional."
(Available on Metamorphosis)
3:39 - The Fugees: "Killing Me Softly" (4:58)
Why is an offensive hit cover tune by a respected 1990s hip-hop group a guilty pleasure? Let me put it this way: remember that scene in About a Boy when Toni Collette and her onscreen song sing the original version together...with their eyes closed? Laura Misjak elaborates: "Who doesn't love 'Killing Me Softly?' And the Fugees' remake of the 1973 Roberta Flack classic sets amore modern, urban tone to the already passionately sorrowful ball-breaker. Some might not consider this song embarassing to be caught listening to, but the dour demeanor mixed with the soulful lyrics create a contagious concoction, causing listeners to croon on cruise-control. Hence, listening to the Fugees' 1996 'Killing Me Softly' generates a deep desire to sing along, unloading any qualms, puerile or significant, for Lauryn Hill and co. to squelch, making this song the dark chocolate center of a raspberry truffle. It makes you just want to delve in."
(Available on The Score)
8:37 - Dio: "The Last in Line" (5:47)
Zach Hoskins: "There are few genres as guilty - or as pleasurable - as heavy metal. And we're talking the good stuff: shredtastic solos, 40-piece drum kits, and lyrics as likely to draw from juvenile Dungeons & Dragons sessions as from juvenile sexual fantasies. And in this hallowed pantheon, there are few rock warriors as enduringly awesome as Ronnie James Dio. The man's been singing his 'songs of wildebeests and angels,' as Jack Black put it, since 1972, when his first band of note, Elf, released their Roger Glover-produced debut LP; the 30-plus years since have seen the diminuitive frontman work his black magic on Ritchie Blackmore's Rainbow, the post-Ozzy incarnation of Black Sabbath, and of course, his own indelible (and ongoing!) solo career. So in other words, this guy's metal credentials are pretty much without peer - he even invented the two-fingered "horns of the devil" salute, for Christ's sake! But the question is, when you're dealing with an indisputable musical giant, how does one select a single track to best illustrate His supreme heaviosity?
"My answer, after much deliberation, has to be Dio's 1984 classic 'The Last in Line.' And here's why: maybe the song starts slow, with a ponderous opening mini-verse over gently picked electric guitar, but it's less than a minute before the metal godfather has you punching your fist in the air, as he lets loose with a ferocious roar over a wall of guitars and synths. And he doesn't let up from there. In short, this song rocks - from its uber-portentous (and suspiciously Christian) lyrics to Vivian Campbell's mind-blowing flurry-of-notes solo. And while Dio might have lent his sacred vocal chords to better-known or more iconic songs ("Stand Up and Shout," "Rainbow in the Dark"), how many of those other songs had a video which featured the man himself grabbing a lightsabre and bashing a Fasco-demonic villain in the nut sack? ROCK!!!"
(Available on The Last in Line)
14:24 - Justin Timberlake: "Rock Your Body" (4:31)If our list so far - or, okay, maybe just the Fugees track - has proven anything, it's that a song needn't be a bad song to be a guilty pleasure. Sometimes, it can just be the way it makes you humiliate yourself by singing in public, or getting into heated one-sided discussions about whether Viv Campbell or Eddie Van Halen was the better shredder (for the record, it's Campbell by a mile). And sometimes, it's because the singer is such a completely repellant, embarrassing human being, his music will forever be tainted by association. Megan Giddings has the perfect example: "Listen Justin, I know you're not black. You know you're not black. And really, do you actually want to be Michael Jackson? But whatever, Justin. Whatever. You made the number one indie guilty pleasure of 2002. Everyone remotely cred-conscious tried to make it seem cool. They tried to blame it on the Neptunes. And sure, sure, sure, that Neptunes production is almost always fucking hot. But listen to those lyrics, those desperate attempts at being flagrantly sexy, the word 'NEKKID,' the atrocious beat boxing... And how about the fact that you can literally hear him sing, 'Doot Doot da doo?' This is not a cool song. But, dammit, not even I can walk away from this shit."
(Available on Justified)
18:55 - Alanis Morissette: "Head Over Feet" (4:27)
More than anything, though, the guilty pleasures we hold dearest are the ones we once loved without guilt - those albums we bought when we were 11, 12, 13, and which moved further and further away from the rest of our collection with every passing year. Now they're somewhere in the bottom of the closet, collecting dust and mold with the rest of our dirty laundry, but we still can't bear to throw them out, sell them or give them away. So when Laura confesses of her abiding love for the Alanis Morissette of Jagged Little Pill, she speaks for every girl who was young and impressionable in 1995...and for all of us: "I was an Alanis Morissette fanatic throughout middle school, with the phase beginning when I got one of my first CDs, Jagged Little Pill, for my 11th birthday. I knew every word of every song, even the secret track. I was a coldstone feminist, and I wasn't even 12. Once I reached high school, Alanis and I kind of drifted apart, but we rekindled our relationship when my brother told me he was dating someone who's like second cousins with her, and all the feelings came rushing back. I admit it's cool to have liked Jagged Little Pill then, but to still listen to it, as I do sometimes, and even to listen to her other stuff, is a bit embarrassing I think. It doesn't stop me, I just don't let anyone know. Until now. But I'm sure that every other premature badass does the exact same thing." (Full disclosure: Laura didn't specify a particular track when she submitted her entries. So what you're now hearing is Zach's favorite song from Jagged Little Pill. Yes, he has one.)
(Available on Jagged Little Pill)
23:22 - Jay-Z: "99 Problems" (3:54)
Zach: "As anyone who's watched the opening credits sequence of Office Space would agree, there are some perfectly good songs which can turn suddenly into the guiltiest of guilty pleasures, all depending on the person who's listening to them. '99 Problems,' a back-to-basics hit for Jay-Z off his 2003 Black Album, is a perfectly good song. In fact, it's a great one, with a thunderous Rick Rubin production that takes you right back to the days when Run-DMC were grafting the big riffs and bigger beats of rock music to the streetwise rhymes of hip-hop. But just picture some mop-headed indie rocker in Elvis Costello glasses and an ironic T-shirt, bumping down the street in his father's Sebring to lyrics like these: 'Now once upon a time not too long ago / A nigga like myself had to strong arm a hoe / This is not a hoe in the sense of having a pussy / But a pussy havin' the goddamn sense to try and push me.' Need I say more?"
(Available on The Black Album)
27:16 - Bright Eyes: "Bowl of Oranges" (4:48)
Most of the songs on this tape so far, quite frankly, haven't been what you would call 'hip.' But let's not make the mistake of assuming that a guilty pleasure must necessarily be unhip to be embarrassing. In fact, sometimes it's precisely an artist's infuriating hipness - and that of his admirers - which will make you hate yourself for loving him. Megan explains: "Most people wouldn't consider Bright Eyes a guilty pleasure, but personally, I hate him. I hate his stupid hair, I hate his stupid tragic artist posturing, and I hate his trembly 'bitch just saw Bambi's mother get shot for the first time' voice. Oh, and P.S. Conor, YOU ARE NO BOB DYLAN. But at the same time, I have even had dreams with 'Bowl of Oranges' playing in the background. The melody is addictive. I like the words. He's not crying. And I don't know why...but Bright Eyes, baby, you + me forever. Like a bowl of oraaaaaaaaanges. Like a story told, baby."
(Available on Lifted, or The Story is in the Soil, Keep Your Ear to the Ground)
32:04 - Def Leppard: "Photograph" (4:08)Zach: "I have about as many reasons to hate Def Leppard as I have musical tastes. As an occasional indie snob, I hate them for their reliance on big hooks, big production, big ballads and big stadium shows. As a more than occasional connnoiseur of rock'n'roll, I hate them for their often sucked-dry, overly processed, pussy-ass sound; they were 'hard rock' made explicitly for the teenage girls they wanted to get backstage, no ifs, ands or buts about it. So yes, I hate Def Leppard. But I don't hate 'Photograph.' Something about this song just works for me: the simple, catchy opening riff, the glam rock strut of Joe Elliott's vocals. Sure, the chorus is pure '80s schlock rock, the kind Def Leppard spent most of the rest of their careers perfecting; but everything else in 'Photograph' makes me want to cut the sleeves off my Union Jack T-shirt, tie a bandana around my neck, and start practicing my high kicks...in private, of course."
(Available on Pyromania)
36:12 - Foreigner: "I Want to Know What Love Is" (5:03)
David: "The last time I heard this '80s hair ballad, I was hanging out in a small group. We all sang along and rocked out. Half a bottle of absinthe later, nobody was wearing clothes. From then on, I have associated 'I Want to Know What Love Is' with irresponsibility and decadence. Which is perfect, really, for such a shameless pomp rocker. You know that when Foreigner weren't picking out new spandex, they were probably banging underage groupies. When a life like that sounds awesome, there's this song. When it sounds unfulfilling and immoral, I can always go back to Scott Walker."
(Available on Agent Provocateur)
41:15 - Letters to Cleo: "I Want You to Want Me" (3:25)
Okay, before we close out Side A with this song, let's get one thing straight: the original 'I Want You to Want Me,' by Illinois post-glam power pop forefathers Cheap Trick? Not a guilty pleasure. The 10 Things I Hate About You soundtrack, overemotive girl singers, and handclap breakdowns? Guilty as charged. Proceed, Megan: "Look, we can't all appreciate high art and be jazzmos and shit. I like the song 'I Want You to Want Me.' I like to sing the song 'I Want You to Want Me' with one of my friends when no one else is around. We know all the words. Once, we performed it in front of a busload of people. They were so embarrassed for us that they pretended that we weren't even there. It was pretty awesome."
(Available on the 10 Things I Hate About You OST)
Final Runtime: 44:40
Side B
0:05 - The All-American Rejects: "Move Along" (4:00)The definition of the guilty pleasure is a simple one: a song (or movie, or TV show, etc.) that you know you should hate, but love in spite of yourself. And if it were up to me, right next to that definition in the dictionary would be a picture of Abby Stotz' next contribution: "I know they represent the worst of emo - clean-shaven pretty boys barely breaking a sweat as they wax rhapsodic over inner turmoils in a slick
MTV video. But 'Move Along' by the All-American Rejects is the guilty pleasure of my summer. Every time it comes on my car radio, I give it my best emo wail, singing along with the ridiculous echoes and redundant lyrics. 'Move Along' is melodramatic and overproduced - and I love it."
(Available on Move Along)
4:05 - Deee-Lite: "Heart Be Still" (4:10)
In this era of irony as nostalgia and "one-hit wonder" as a marketing term, there's no shame in having a few Quiet Riot or Flock of Seagulls MP3s on your iPod. But what if you don't just have an MP3...what if, indeed, you purchased the entire discography by a mainstream but little-heard footnote in musical history? On that note, Zach has a confession to make: "I own every album by Deee-Lite. Proper albums, that is; I don't own their Best Of or the Sampladelic Relics & Dancefloor Oddities disc of remixes, though the fact that I know of these records' existence should tell you something about the thoroughness of my buying habits. But yes, I love Deee-Lite, and to tell you the truth, I don't know why. I could tell you that they're better than any other '90s dance act, and indeed their natural funkiness and eclecticism (aided by the appearance of P. Funk legends Bootsy Collins and Maceo Parker on the first two albums) does put them head and shoulders above the likes of Everything But the Girl and La Bouche, at least in my mind. But deep down, I know that they're really just a great song with a band and three unnecessary full-lengths attached; they'd be just as great, if not greater, had 'Groove is in the Heart' come out as a 12" and they'd crumbled immediately afterward. But that didn't happen, so here it is, a lesser but worthy album track from their diminishing-returns 1992 sophomore release Infinity Within. All the trademark elements are present and accounted for: a driving snare and hi-hat beat. A looped piano melody. Lady Miss Kier's soulful voice and absurd lyrics. Bootsy yelling things. In short, it's Deee-Lite being Deee-Lite, roughly two years after the rest of the world stopped caring. But I still care, guys. And for the record, World Clique and Dewdrops in the Garden are pretty damn good too."
(Available on Infinity Within)
8:15 - Dashboard Confessional: "Don't Wait" (4:03)
David: "Music critics have seriously lightened up about guilty pleasures. These days it seems that everyone freely admits to loving 'Toxic,' 'Since U Been Gone,' and the Young Jeezy album. The one exception to this lovely trend is rock music. Dance, rap, and even boy bands can now be critic-approved, but bands like AFI or Yellowcard remain off limits. Maybe it's because rock is nerdy, or maybe it's because most critics were raised on rock music. Whatever the reason, 'Don?Äôt Wait' would have been the guilty pleasure du jour this summer if rock guilt were more fashionable."
(Available on Dusk and Summer)
12:18 - The Monkees: "A Little Bit Me, A Little Bit You" (2:51)Zach: "Everybody's got some musical skeletons in their closet, and if this tape has proven anything, it's that I'm no exception. But while others' musical mishaps, especially the childhood ones, can be explained away by any number of factors - radio oversaturation, peer pressure, a blind urge to piss off one's parents - with me things were never so simple. When I was between the ages of 13 and 15 years old (maybe longer - I may be suppressing), I loved the Monkees. Like, loved them. I listened to their music constantly, I quoted at great length from the liner notes of Rhino's late '90s reissue editions, I loved both Head and 33 1/3 Revolutions Per Monkee, and though I never got around to mentioning them in the same breath or the Beatles or anything, I did have a dream about meeting Micky Dolenz and having him sign my Hey Jude shirt, so maybe that's a sign of what would have been had I not nipped my obsession in the bud. And nip I did; I moved on to other musical loves (much to my parents' relief, who perversely would probably have rather I developed a taste for punk or heavy metal than keep blasting Headquarters at all hours), and within a few years, I'd traded in all seven (!) of my Monkees CDs for cold, hard cash.
"At the time I was mortified that my Monkees fandom had ever run as deep as it once did; but now, while you're unlikely to see me in a green wool cap anytime soon, I like my Monkees just fine. The first two albums (and, with reservations, the third and fourth) are sublime bubblegum pop, probably the best you're likely to hear. And whenever 'A Little Bit Me, A Little Bit You' pipes into my local supermarket, I break into a big, goofy grin. So kids, just remember: your guilty pleasures won't always make you feel like a musical moron. Once you turn 20, they'll just become kitsch, and you can start happily listening to your Monkees albums and singing along to those sublime teenybopper melodies all over again."
(Available on The Best of the Monkees)
15:09 - Howie Day: "Collide" (4:09)
Laura: "I'm sorry. I'm a girl. I have a vagina. I like this song. Oh Howie Day, how you make me want to hide and listen to your preciously girlified songs as I pretend to tousle your long, sort of spikey, manic depressive hair."
(Available on Stop All the World Now)
19:18 - The Rolling Stones: "Dance (Pt. 1)" (4:23)
Zach: "As a Rolling Stones fan, I should hate Emotional Rescue. As a rock'n'roll fan, I should hate Emotional Rescue. Hell, even as a human being, I should probably hate Emotional Rescue. This was the album, after all, when the Stones' late-'70s disco obsessions finally reached the tipping point; when they dropped all pretense and became the groove-oriented pop act they'd been threatening to become since Goats Head Soup, their rockers growing hopelessly flaccid and non-threatening in the process. It's the true beginning of the end for the classic Stones, pretty harsh words considering their 'last great album,' 1978's Some Girls, already pales in comparison to landmarks like Sticky Fingers, Exile on Main Street and Beggars Banquet. But the thing is, I kinda like the disco Stones. To my mind they were the most convincing rock dinosaurs of their era to make the leap to dance music - and, lest we forget, they were certainly not alone - with Charlie Watts' impeccable sense of rhythm, Bill Wyman's loose, funky bass lines and Keith Richards' organic, economical guitar work forming a solid backbone for plenty of overlooked minor classics. And 'Dance (Pt. 1),' off the dreaded Emotional Rescue, is the best of these minor classics. Now granted, this is hardly the Stones doing what they do best. For that you'd need to see Exile, Fingers, Banquet, hell, even Let It Bleed. But when it comes down to it, given the choice between 'Dance (Pt. 1)' and spineless 'Brown Sugar' rewrites like 'Start Me Up,' I'll get up, get out and get into something new...every time."
(Available on Emotional Rescue)
23:42 - Carl Douglas: "Kung Fu Fighting" (3:15)Over the course of this mixtape, we've tried to make a case for some of the songs we hate to love. Some of our attempts have been more successful than others, but by and large, we think you've gotten the point. There are some songs, however, which are beyond mere explanation; songs so abhorrent, so ridiculous, and yet so insidiously catchy, that you can only accept your perverse love for what it is: completely, even insanely irrational. You all know a song like that. And now, Megan will introduce us to the most irrational of them all: "I hate it when someone pretends that every lousy song they listen to is a brick of musical gold shat out by Mozart on a sunny June afternoon. There are songs which can't be defended, which defy any attempt at a pretentious face-saving pedestal. And, I give you the king of those songs: Carl Douglas' 'Kung Fu Fighting.' There's plenty here to make even the most ironclad of unselfconscious musical sensibilities squirm. There are the several attempts at making kung-fu grunts. There is the fake Asian-style music put over a funk backing. And then there's the pretentious orchestration at the beginning of the song; the phrase 'Funky Chinamen from Funky Chinatown,' and of course, the monumental cry of, 'Here comes the big boss - let's get it on!' But at the same time, despite all of its faults, 'Kung Fu Fighting' is the horribly awesome song you want to hear at a wedding reception. You want to see all of your uncles embarass themselves with an awkward kung-fu dance that they made up spur of the moment. You just don't want anyone else to know that you do the same dance in your room every time the song pops up on your iTunes playlist."
(Available on The Best of Carl Douglas: Kung Fu Fighting)
Aaron Commandeers the Mixtape: "At first glance, this month's mixtape seems tailor-made for yours truly. After all, I regularly write at length on this very website about my love for television kitsch like Degrassi Junior High, and my secret enjoyment of Bollywood films. I have talked, at length, about a great love for bands like the Spice Girls, and for the last mixtape, I submitted Cyndi Lauper's 'Girls Just Wanna Have Fun.' Hell, I'm even the token punk-rock writer among a group of people who tend to greatly frown upon such genres. This is precisely the problem, though. I have no problem admitting these tastes of mine on a regular basis. And why not? If you ask me, the whole 'guilty pleasure' concept is a bit flawed.Guilt, shame, fear, and self-loathing are not things we should be striving after. Hedonism, truly, is the answer. There is nothing wrong with pleasure. Ever. One should have no problem admitting his or her pop culture loves. If it makes you happy - go for it. This is what I try to do. I am not embarrassed that I sometimes love things that are a bit sugary sweet and poppy, full of silly teenage angst, or just meaningless. I have no problem admitting this publicly. I do not run from my happiness.
And so, as a protest of what I view to be a philosophically flawed tape theme, I submit the following 15 minute and 41 second block of music devoted to the pursuit of pleasure. These are songs which have no problem declaring the glories of vice and the virtues of sin. As long as it feels good, they will let you do it. And frankly, I have no problem admitting I like them too."
26:57 - Compute: "Dance with Me" (3:11)
"First up is a song which revels in a simple enough pleasure: the art of dance. Indie synth-popper Compute begs the listener in 'Dance With Me' to do just that. To resist the music, is to deny yourself a moment of joy. True to its word, the song itself will bring you out on the floor before you know it."
(Available on Hello! Surprise!)
30:08 - Donna Summer: "Hot Stuff" (3:51)
"And speaking of dancing, I present to you the queen of the Disco Era. Donna Summer's 'Hot Stuff' is brutally frank in its design. She knows what she wants, and she's going to demand it. It's a declaration of the enjoyment of passionate, sweaty, hot, hot sex - right down to the breathy moans that Summer was so famous for."
(Available on The Journey: The Very Best of Donna Summer)
33:59 - The Reverend Horton Heat: "Bales of Cocaine" (2:11)
"While the body, clearly, is equipped to offer a variety of natural physical pleasures, chemical aid is sometimes a great help. Rockabilly revivalist Rev. Horton Heat has sung extensively on this issue. There have been tracks praising the values of beer, marijuana, and a variety of different cocktails. One of the special highlights, however, is 1993's 'Bales of Cocaine.' Here is a song that not only celebrates a top-rate narcotic, but also the world of quick money and illegal dealings. Fantastic."
(Available on The Full-Custom Gospel Sounds of the Reverend Horton Heat)
36:10 - Social Distortion: "Pleasure Seeker" (3:33)
"There is, however, only one song that could truly cap off this descent into orgy. To quote Mike Ness: 'Who wants to fight temptation, that's no fun / C'mon and play the games, don't you feel no shame / That's what Eve said to Adam before she came / ...There's damnation and disgrace, and guilt rears its ugly face / Yet you beg for more, just a little more.' 'Nuff said."
(Available on White Light, White Heat, White Trash)
Zach Wrests Back Control: "Okay. We get it. We shouldn't feel guilty for loving the music that speaks to us, blah, blah, blah. But think about this for a minute: if there was no such thing as a guilty pleasure, where would we be? What if every mixtape you ever received from a friend or potential suitor was full of terminally uncool (but secretly lovable) tracks by Gordon Lightfoot, Kip Winger and the Lovin' Spoonful? What if your favorite band came onstage and announced that they wanted to perform a straight cover by 98 Degrees? And seriously - if you hadn't been afraid that the record store clerk was going to give you shit for buying Kick by INXS, would you really have bought that Pixies album? What I'm trying to say is, mental functions like guilt - or, more neutrally, conscience - are what keep us from spilling over into complete chaos; the Superego is as crucial an element to the human psyche, individually and socially, as the Id. And just as social taboos keep us from raping and pillaging our neighbors, so musical guilt keeps us from committing equally egregious pop culture sins."So go ahead, turn your iPod volume down when the S Club 7 track comes on. It's a perfectly natural instinct that will keep you striving for better music - because while guilty pleasures are as sugary sweet as a candy binge or a McDonald's breakfast, no one can live on pleasure alone. Sometimes, we need meat and potatoes, music that sustains our minds as well as our ears. But in the meantime, let's finish our celebration of the guilty pleasure, with a song I'm willing to bet few of you would ever admit to liking before at least two drinks..."
39:43 - Journey: "Don't Stop Believin'" (4:10)
Zach: "Now, before you decide that the Modern Pea Pod has officially lost all credibility, let me just say this: I am not, by any stretch of the imagination, a Journey fan. 'Wheel in the Sky' and 'Open Arms' both bore me to tears, thank you very much, and 'Separate Ways' is basically only notable as the Holy Grail of Cheesy Music Videos. But I've secretly liked 'Don't Stop Believin'' ever since my senior year of high school. Why? Because that was the year when I played in a Journey cover band. I'm dead serious.
"Now, obviously, I wasn't the one in charge of our musical destiny here. Again, I was not a Journey fan, then or ever. But my friend was, and I played drums, and so I joined the band. We had exactly one performance - a high school Battle of the Bands, which I regrettably had a hand in arranging and promoting - and our set consisted almost entirely of Journey cover songs, the show-stopping centerpiece of which was (you guessed it) 'Don't Stop Believin'.' And being a dutiful friend and bandmate, I learned the fucking song. I rehearsed it over and over again, I listened to it in my spare time, I knew it intimately from the opening piano line to the triumphant fade-out. And somewhere along the line, I began to love it. I loved the way the guitar and drums slowly built up before the first chorus. I loved the guitar solo. And on the night of the show, under the lights at my high school auditorium as we hit that final refrain and I began to wail on my ride cymbal, I realized: this fucking ROCKS. This is a GREAT SONG. Now of course, that wasn't entirely true; 'Don't Stop Believin'' is by and large a thoroughly mediocre, melodramatic piece of AOR shit. But there's some kind of magic in the mix that makes it transcend such easy write-offs; somehow, it's better than any other cornball 'victory rock' anthem you can name. It is, to my mind, a shining example of the guilty pleasure - perhaps the greatest of all time. So folks, let's put aside our petty prejudices, join hands, and board the midnight train going anywhere. Hold on to that feeling. And yes, just this once, you have my permission to belt along to the most oddly sublime song ever associated with Steve Perry."
(Available on Escape)
Final Runtime: 43:53
Total Runtime (Sides A & B): 88:33
Download the full-sized tape cover here.
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