When bad music happens to good people

I sometimes find myself loving really bad music. Before we take this any further, let me just say in my defense that I do think I've managed to build a relatively sold musical background; I grew up with proper rock classics like Led Zep, Sabbath, tried a bit of everything metal, moved on to more alternative stuff and have always been a sucker for rich, expressive bass lines and refined melodies. Although somewhat erratic, I do think I've managed to acquire a musical taste. Yet, every now and then I hear something on the car radio, on tv, at a party and it's like I don't know any better.

My latest bad music obsession is old news, I know; I first heard this at a party I went to recently and - boom! - I was hooked. It's the bass, the sexy pace... don't give a rat's arse about Ciara and I wish Justin Timberlake wasn't singing on it, but the music itself is pretty darn schmexy. Bump-bump-bump-bumpbumpbump-bump:

Another one - bloody Shakira, can you believe it?! Truth is, I can't resist this leotard/fab Balmain sandals/sexy dancing/seventies's orchestration combo - in fact all this makes me ignore how bad her voice is. Awoooo!!!

But why stop there, right? You might think I'm a gay man hidden in a young woman's body after I tell you about this one, but I don't care - I'm coming out of the bad music closed and you can't stop me!! I've know every. single. bloody.word. of Shania Twain's That Don't Impress Me Much since I was a teen. Loved this from the first moment I watched the video on MTV, and never stopped loving it. So tacky, I know, but so empowering. Knock back a few tequila shots and tell me you don't want to strip naked on top of a bar table while this one's on. No? Well, maybe it's just me then. (Fine.)

So, I was a student in the UK once. Yep. Jolly good times. That's my explanation for my irrational obssession with this horrible, horrible song, which I sang countless times at the top of my lungs at probably every single bar/pub/club in my tiny student town in the north of England. It's just that it has such momentum!!! Da-da-da!! Da-da-da!! 

Now that I think about it, I may as well blame Britain and their conniving music producers who come up with this horribly catchy stuff:

Aaaand, just to finish,  let me just share the last of my selection of musical guilty pleasures. For this one I don't think I even have an explanation. Although maybe its the bass? The Jamaican thing? Hell, who knows. I bloody love it - you may laugh at me all you want.