Music is a window into the soul. And with Spotify’s “frictionless sharing” onto Facebook, many users are sharing their music – and baring their souls – without their knowledge.
This is neither a good thing nor a bad thing. It just is. And it’s not that you shouldn’t share your music with your friends. You should just be purposeful of what you’re sharing and conscious of what it says about you. (yes, I’ve been working with a life coach)
Here are five songs that you do not want anyone else know that you’re listening to, lest you risk social and professional shame.
1. George Michael’s Freedom! ’90:
I don’t care if you’re gay or straight – NOBODY listens to this song without stripping down to their briefs, running around the house waving gymnast ribbons and chugging white zinfandel out of Disney souvenir cups.
So when I see in my Newsfeed that you’re listening to Freedom! ’90, I know exactly what you’re doing.
2. Anything by Nickelback
Nickelback is Canada’s Vietnam. Not in terms of lives lost, but when measured by damage to national credibility. Their monotone, guitar-heavy “Wish we were 3 Doors Down”-banality has undone all the good done by decades of true Canadian rockers like Rush, Triumph, April Wine…hell, even Loverboy.
So when your Facebook friends read that you’re listening to Nickelback, what you’re really telling them is “I hate Canada!”
3. Unwritten by Natasha Bedingfield
When I think of the future of America, I don’t worry about illegal immigration, the deficit or inflation.
I think of a whole generation of young women whose role-model for independence and success is Lauren “LC” Conrad of MTV’s The Hills. While she may seem very together and ambitious, it is only so in direct contrast to the train-wrecks of human beings with whom she surrounds herself.
Do I, as a 40+ male have the credibility to make this assertion? I think I do, considering I’m so appalled by the show that I have seen every episode and own Seasons 1 and 2 of its predecessor (Laguna Hills: The Real Orange County) on DVD.
My simultaneous abhorrence of and obsession with this show is fitting. For Unwritten is, on the one-hand, an anthem trumpeting independence and achieving one’s potential. On the other hand, it sets the theme for a show that celebrates the worst stereotypes of female cattiness and Herculian consumerism. Helen Reddy must shit herself every time she hears it.
Unwritten is Eye of the Tiger in a mini-skirt and wedge-heels crowd. Which is why I listen to it every single time I have writer’s block.
4. “Kate Bush Workout” Playlist
Whether you’re in leg-warmers stretching to This Woman’s Work, crying on the bike while you listen to Wuthering Heights, or walking forlornly on the treadmill with your eyes closed and mouthing the words to The Man With the Child in His Eyes, Kate Bush and workouts do not mix.
Put simply – if you are listening to Kate Bush, you are most assuredly not working out. After all, it is a physical impossibility to achieve a meaningful heart-rate if you stop every three minutes to dry your eyes and attempt to purge your mind of lost love.
The truth is if you have ever listened to Kate Bush during a “workout,” you’re not in very good shape. Now turn off your iPod and go feed your cats.
5. LFO’s Summer Girls
Ball-scratching, hair-gelled morons, Lyte Funkie Ones shared the same DNA as Jersey Shore and the McRib sandwich. Summer Girls is their magnum opus.
You know you know it.
“I like girls that (who?) wear Abercrombie & Fitch / I’d take her if I had one wish / But she’s been gone since that summer…”
Pity the retail CMO whose once-respectable brand has been hi-jacked by brain-dead ghetto wannabes. You simply cannot un-ring this brand-destroying bell. Go ahead – plot A&F’s brand equity line from the 1999 release of Summer Girls, through Jersey Shore’s The Situation (a legendary and vocal A&F aficionado), and you can extrapolate the its inevitable destination: the toilet of fashion cliche, where it will float for eternity right next to Z. Cavaricci and Willi Wear.
“When you take a sip you buzz like a hornet / Billy Shakespeare wrote a whole bunch of sonnet(s)”
Every time you listen to this song you get dumber. And for LFO’s biggest fans, that’s saying something.