Let’s face it, everybody has songs that they keep secret. Songs that they would NEVER let their friends or family know that they like. Some, of which, may even be in their top 20 favorite songs of all time.
Luckily, with the advent of headphones, and eventually walkmans, mp3 players, and ipods, it’s a lot easier to hide the dirty little musical secret. You could have, what is considered by some, the best musical taste in the world, but it can all be negated as soon as people find out that you actually like Friday by Rebecca Black. You can go from musical taste savant to someone who rides the short bus to music appreciation class, all because you like one song.
I wasn’t savvy enough to hide the less than astute side of my musical taste until I was well into my twenties. It was the summer of ’86 and I was having a poker party in my apartment. During one of ours breaks, my friend John started looking through my record collection. All of a sudden I heard him shout, “Oh my God, Bob! What the hell is this? You LIKE this”?
Then he held up the album for everyone to see.
I ran over and grabbed the album out of his hands. “That’s not mine”, I lied. “That’s my sister’s album. It must have gotten mixed in when I moved”.
“I know your sister”, said John. “This is not hers. You’re such a liar, Bob”.
He was right. I was a liar. It WAS my album.
After that, a few of the other guys started rummaging through my albums.
I rolled my eyes, and went into the kitchen to get another beer. All of a sudden I heard someone go “EWWWWWWWW!”, followed by hysterical guffaws.
“We have to play it”, someone said.”We have to play it.”
I went into the living room to see which album was causing all of the hysterics.
Someone pulled the album out of the jacket and put it on the turntable. A few seconds later Long-Haired Lover From Liverpool was blasting through the speakers.
Anyway, they all started dancing around my apartment, acting like a bunch of drunken idiots. Which is what they were. Drunk and stupid idiots.
After that, there was no more poker.
Over the course of the next few hours, my records were taken out of the covers and strewn everywhere.
At about 4 in the morning, when everyone – with the exception of Larry, who was passed out on my couch – was gone, I surveyed the damage. What a mess. As I was putting the records back into their covers, I discovered that someone had stepped on my 12 inch single of The Freaks Come Out at Night by Whodini, and cracked it into. Bastards!
So, that was the night that I learned to hide all of my records in the ‘dubious musical taste’ category. They can incite mayhem. They can turn a poker party into a Comiskey Park Disco Demolition Night type of event.
Now, I’m not saying that I have bad musical taste. I don’t think I do. Music taste is relative anyway. And, it’s age appropriate.
I like all kinds of music, for the most part, and am not afraid to play the songs openly. But, there ARE those songs that I keep hidden and only play when no one is around. The songs that I pretend I don’t like. The ones that I make fun of, but secretly love.
I guess I will rat myself out and present a partial list of those songs:
Sundown – American Juniors
Paper Roses – Marie Osmond
Shake Your Love – Debbie Gibson
Sweet and Innocent – Donny Osmond
Hearbeat – It’s a Lovebeat – The DeFranco Family
One Step Closer – S Club 8
Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde – Babs Tino
Birthday Party – The Pixies Three
Wenn Der Sommer Kommt – Heintje
Johnny Loves Me – Suzie
Easy Come, Easy Go – Bobby Sherman
and of course
Hopefully, that partially redeems me.