Oh, The Shark just HAD to bring up the whole Nickelback controversy again, didn’t he? For the love of all that is holy, I am going to start wearing a Nickelback t-shirt to CMJ events to piss people off. Hey, wait, is loving Nickelback ironically the thing that will cause all hipsters to die? I think it might be. Come, let us all love Nickelback so that Williamsburg will again be habitable!

That’s okay though, because you know who will be on board with my newfound Nickelback love? Awesome UI-Approved, Must-See CMJ Marathon Artist Juliana Hatfield! Check it out. Nickelback’s her guilty pleasure!

Taking Poingly’s lead, I am also going to confess some guilty pleasures. Although no one can outdo the Dave Matthews Band, I, like Bodies of Water, love me some Venga Boys:

In fact, any poppy Euro house is totally my guilty pleasure. I grew up in Chicago, a city with more Polish people than anywhere except Warsaw. They love this stuff. Because of this experience I know some of the more popular DJs of Euro house and I can correctly order a Żywiec beer.

My second guilty pleasure is the Bee Gees. I love the early, non-disco Bee Gees specifically. And if you play some of those songs to people they think you are playing an obscure Beatles song. They are awesome, and their hairy, hairy chests are just a bonus.

I am not particularly guilty about either of these, though they are somewhat embarrassing. There are two I feel kind of guilty about.

(KEEP READING CONFESSIONS)

Even though Poingly doesn’t want to hear it, I am going to talk about indie elitism. First, I am all for Project Jenny, Project Jan. And I am all for them listening to whatever they want to listen to. And I am all for them respecting likeminded artists who fight the corporate machine of music.

What I am not okay with is PJPJ implying that people who don’t agree with them are stupid.

It’s great to show some respect for musicians who “do the right thing” (whatever your definition of that is), but their personal and professional respectability has little to do with how awesome their jams might be. Do I support R. Kelly’s actions as a person? No. God, no. But will I sell my first born to see the next episodes in his hip-hopera “Trapped in the Closet.” In the words of Gov. Palin, “You betcha!”

As horrifying as rape allegations against an indie musician might be, I am still going to sing “Trucker’s Atlas” at the top of my lungs whenever it comes on in my proximity. That doesn’t make me dumb, it makes my appreciation of music devoid of interest in the politics of the people who create the music.

(Read more “Elitism” after the jump)

Ok, that might very well be the least masculine title of a blog that you will ever see me write. But I’m hungover this morning and I can’t seem to muster my manly creative juices just yet, so deal with it. Cary Brothers is an accomplished singer/songwriter who’s had songs featured in Major Motion Pictures, and headlined the awesome Hotel Cafe Tour, but even he is powerless at times to the ungodly seductive power of… Sussudio:

Lucky for me, I’m immune to Phil Collins’ irresistible pop sensibilities (except of course for “You Can’t Hurry Love, which no human can resist). However, last night while drinking heavily at Ski Bar in Bay Ridge while playing darts (always a good idea, by the way), my roommate and I discovered that we both shared the same, borderline masculine guilty pleasure – mother fucking Hall and Oates! We were two grown men in the middle of a bar in Brooklyn literally fighting over which song from The Very Best of Hall and Oates to play. My vote was for I Can’t Go For That (No Can Do), his pick was Private Eyes. You know who won out in the end? BOTH OF US, after we realized you get two mother fucking plays for one mother fucking dollar, bitch!

Oh man, I’m probably going to get reamed for admitting this, but all we wanted to do when we got home was listen to more H&O and fantasize about growing a mustache like John Oates. Isn’t that thing fucking gorgeous? Little known fact: John Oates’ mustache actually came in 4th place at the 1984 Miss Georgia pageant. He screwed up the question and answer section.

Shark Thought Of The Day

I hope that if the world ever ends, it goes like this: All the panda bears in the world unite and set off a bunch of nuclear weapons, so just before the mushroom cloud reaches us, we can all turn to the animal rights people and give them a nice, slow, scornful clap.