I have a confession to make. Despite the best intentions of my hipster-music-loving sister (she hates when I call her that, but it’s totally true), “indie” (whatever that means) friends, and my parents who lovingly refer to my favourite songs as “trash”, “garbage”, or “whatever this is, it’s NOT music” (that one’s the BEST), I am a pop music addict.
You hear that, world? I LOVE POP!
This is kinda big. When I was a teenager, I would only listen to these CDs that people made from live concerts and rare tracks that they mailed each other. Because I am old, and I remember when people listened to music on compact discs, and when people actually mailed each other physical objects through the postal service.
But the point is that now I don’t care about being judged for my music. I think Lady Gaga is crazy and entertaining and I love to sing along to Paparazzi in the car. I have known the words to Like a Prayer since I was four years old. Tiffany? Mariah Carey (circa 1995)? Love it.
I have a particular fondness for Wilson Philips. I can remember blasting their tape in the car on family trips up north when I was little. I still have that tape.
*Title from U2′s Discotheque, a song I overlooked for years and is underrated, in my very humble opinion.
