I wish I could hate you, but I can’t

31 Aug

Penny: In other news, this Taylor Swift song is the worst song ever.

Polly: I knowwwwww. But I kinda have fun singing it.

Penny: humminggggg

“We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together,” besides winning the award for longest song title, is potentially one of the most predictable songs I have ever heard.

It is silly. It is stupid. It is dumb. It is every uncreative, mean adjective any eighth grader ever used to make another eight grader cry ever.

Yet even as I type this post, it is running through my head, insisting I sing along because OoooOoo WeeEE are never ever EVER getting back together…

They’re just so damn catchy, these pop songs. So damn catchy.

I want to hate them because I can see their catchiness from three miles away, you know? It’s the exact opposite of the lovely blush of accomplishment that suffuses your entire being after having decoded a wonderfully difficult sonnet. Where’s the appreciation – the art – in a song whose parts are so easily discernible? I want a little mystery in my music.

And yet my first reaction of unadulterated disgust is quickly tempered by a tinge of world-weary cynicism acknowledging that a week from now this song will be blasting from my car radio as I cruise the late summer streets with the moonroof open and the windows down. (Who are we kidding… it’ll be blasting on my commute home. LONG WEEKENDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD!)

Because even though I can see the song for what it is: manufactured drivel designed to make me love it – those arbiters of taste did a pretty damn good job in applying their research, and I will eventually adore this sweet treat for Labor Day Weekend, conscientiously crafted with tastes I wish I didn’t possess expressly in mind.

For your enjoyment (and mine):


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