I like to think that I have impeccable, yet Catholic musical tastes. But there’s always been a certain collection of songs that I know violate every rule of good music. They do so without any pretension at subtlety, play on the cheapest human emotions and contain the cheapest of single entendres and bad puns. Treacle and bombast can. and do, coexist.
As a youth, I didn’t know that these songs had anything in common, although I should have: Keep Reading