30 January 2004
A little sugar on it
Nothing defines "guilty pleasure" quite so, well, definitively as a taste for that much-mocked genre of mutant pop known derisively as "bubblegum", and while I suppose I ought to feel a twinge of embarrassment even mentioning this stuff while next door Lynn is talking about Mozart's vocal works, I'm a firm believer in pressing ahead.
Besides, the difference between the forgotten Joey Levine and the renowned Joey Ramone isn't as pronounced as you might think. Crank up a compilation of Buddah bubblegum tunes and follow it with some Nick Lowe-esque pure pop for people ten years later, and you'll hear much the same thing: voices just serviceable enough to get the tune out, drums mixed way up, and your basic three-chords-no-waiting rock and roll.
A lot of this stuff goes ignored these days, partly because of the demands of political correctness don't expect to hear "Indian Giver" by the 1910 Fruitgum Company ever again and partly because of baby boomers' tendency to rewrite their memories in a desperate effort to preserve some measure of mystique; you'd almost think the people would have had enough of silly love songs, fercryingoutloud. But remember that rock and roll is founded upon noises like "Awopbopaloobopalopbamboom", and if you insist that your particular musical tastes demand something a little more artistic, a little more timeless, I'm going to assume that you spend your spare time listening to Mozart vocal works. Not that there's anything wrong with that.