“Offering Proof That Music Can Be Objectively Bad, Since I Have Nothing Else to Do Today”

Good God, my spirits were riding so high when I heard Dishwalla’s “Counting Blue Cars” on the classic rock station the other day — it seemed like the format was finally tapping some listenable ‘90s rock as a way of perpetuating itself. In fact, that station has a refreshing way of continually getting it done, when least expect it.
Then, a couple of songs later, the unthinkable happened. There it was: “This is / That white gold / That Michelle Pfeiffer…”
I mean, what? First of all, we went from a five to 10 year progression, ’91 to ’96 (Tom Petty’s “Learning to Fly” is an erstwhile staple), to all the sudden racing ahead 23 YEARS, and to top it off, come on, that song is just really BAD.
Ok, I’m not mad at Bruno Mars as a person, I guess. It’s definitely not shocking to me that a song exists where the guy says he wants to kiss himself, he’s so pretty. That’s exactly what James Brown and that dude in the Ghostface Killah – “Champ” skit said. Copying others is perfectly normal. It’s a completely accepted form of art form.
So he’s hammering it into your head, over and over, that.. uh… something (I’m hoping somebody out there has actually cognitively imbibed the lyrics to this song, upon hearing it over 100 times in public places, just for documenting purposes)… and that you should believe him. The general objective of this dude seems to be to just establish that he’s better than you, for no apparent reason, and that you should sit back idly, uselessly, in ostensible functional paralysis, and look at him JUST BEING HIM! He reminds me kind of of like a little kid who’s posing for pictures, but can’t even successfully complete the task of sitting there posing, so they have to call in the clown to entertain him and make him SMILEY SMILEY! It’s like Bruno Mars, you should just be happy having arrived at this rapaciously narcissistic existence! You shouldn’t even need me to watch you — it should be so satisfying having become so transcendently successful and self-centered that your satisfaction should emanate from within, not without. But then, that just proves that the universe is an unfair place. By the way, can somebody please take this jerk down to the paradise city where the grass is green and the girls are pretty so he’ll shut up already?

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