Is NOTHING Sacred?

On Friday night I was out celebrating a friend’s birthday and we decided we wanted to go to a really shitty nightclub and dance like morons (it’s our perogative as women).  It had been a long time since I’d been to an establishment like the one we were in, but as Katy Perry blared I thought, “By gum, it’s good to be back.”

That happiness didn’t last very long however, as I soon realized that since my departure from commercial chart radio, I have completely lost my grip on pop music!  Sure I didn’t know half the songs!  Up until this point in my life I have been a veritable lexicon of pop music, so this came as a bit of a shock to me.  I was upset for a moment, but then this came on the speakers, and suddenly my ignorance didn’t seem so unpleasant:


Now, I will admit that I quite like the “dirty bit” where the beat kicks in, but why couldn’t they have just used the “dirty bit” for a completely different song?  Why taint a classic?  I expressed my views to the birthday girl (who still works in commercial chart radio) and she nodded knowingly in agreement.  “I know,” she said comfortingly, “I know.”

The saddest part of the exchange was what wasn’t being said.  What was happening to us?  Where were the years going?  How did we become people who complained about “classics” being ruined?  The answers to these questions aren’t really important however, because there is one thing I’m certain of.  I would rather listen to Bill Medley and Jennifer Warnes than the Black Eyed Peas, and that is a fact I’m glad of.

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