Or maybe it’s just because it’s so trendy. Normally I can’t stand trends; I stopped wearing black makeup and clothing in school when everyone else did because I didn’t want to be a part of that. I just wanted to be me. Now and then there might be a pop song I like, but normally there aren’t many, if any at all.
But it seems like every few years I go through a pop cycle—kind of like how the phoenix dies and comes back—and this seems to be one of those years. The last one I can remember was when my daughter was born and I was into everything Rent; I also remember being into Beyonce and the Pussycat Dolls and Justin Timberlake (“Sexyback” was my doing the dishes music) and—oh, hell, you get the idea, and it’s embarrassing enough without having to remember it all.
Now it seems to be coming back yet again. I find myself avoiding my mp3 player, opting instead for the pop station on TV or the radio, hoping to hear Pink’s “Raise Your Glass” or Cee Lo’s “Forget You.” I am completely in love with Florence and the Machine’s “Dog Days Are Over,” and after both seeing and hearing Adele perform “Rolling in the Deep,” I think I may have a new favorite female songstress. (Holy cheetahs, is that song gorgeous—as is her voice!)
The thing is, I don’t want to feel “guilty” or embarrassed about this. I can acknowledge that it’s popular music, that other people like it, and that some of it may not even be very good while still liking it, right? The worst thing that could happen is that one of my friends, who is a bit of a music snob, could make fun of me, and I can take it. The next time she needs me to babysit, I could always just say something along the lines of, “You have to say Bruno Mars is awesome first!”