Summer. It smells like a strange mix of Coppertone, stinky shoes, and BO. That may just be my car, but to air that sucker out I roll down my windows and cruise the streets in wind blown freshness. When doing this, I need to be careful of what I have in my cd player. I could be getting some glances from fellow drivers or walkers that heard what I was listening to and shaking their heads in shame.
Any chance of me being considered a badass disappears when these groups are on.
Hall and Oates: With vocals so smooth they must be covered in crisco and synths so cheesy they get me constipated, Hall and Oates are the ultimate guilty pleasure. I may get laughed at for digging their sound but their music is so expertly crafted and professional it is almost impossible not to admire.
John Mayer: It may be uncool because I have testicles but I can't resist his earnest lyrics and killer guitar. He may have the voice of a pre-pubescent girl but he writes tunes with good hooks and he has played with Eric Clapton. I still sound like a wimp when I turn "Slow Dancing in a Burning Room" up to 11.
Kelly Clarkson: Once again an artist that would be ok for a tween girl to listen too, but not so much for a mid-20's male. Yes, she won American Idol but that was a long time ago. Three albums into her career and she has already fought with record industry fogey Clive Davis. She is a rebel but a safe one. Like Green Day.
Scissor Sisters: The only way to find a gayer act in today's society would be if you saw Leather Daddy Tobias Fünke singing "It's Raining Men" at the Gothic Asshole. Totally trashy and freakin' outrageous, I can only listen to this in the privacy of my own home.