Pop Goes The Weasel

For most of my life, I have had a persona of the hipster. I found out about bands long before most people. I was SLC Punk in the 80's. When I moved to NJ, I went to shows at City Gardens and the legendary CBGB's. Rollins once famously sweated on me at the Troc in Philly. I was that record store girl, like in 16 candles. My favorite band of all time is the Clash. I still listen to WXPN, thanks to the magic of my iPhone app. I lament the late, great KCGL.
This framework is important because it will make what I am going to tell you even more shocking. To quote the great spiritual, it causes me to tremble, because I have a lot lying on the line.
Ready for the truth?
I like pop music.
Seriously.

I have a playlist on my phone titled kiss my indie cred goodbye. It's chock full of lady gaga, Katy perry, Britney spears and Pink. The music keeps the little man and I rocking out for hours. I bebop around the house blasting it while I clean and/or cook. It powers me through workouts. And I blast it pulling out of the school drop off lane.
It's not a one off thing, I really do like it.
That being said, my enthusiasm for the other 90% of my music collection has yet to dampen. I love all of that too, it's just pop music is so, so...poppy.

When the Princess was the same age, it was the era of the backstreet boys & n sync. I adored all of them, and was just as excited as she and her friends were. I don't know who wanted to see the spice girls in concert more, me or them.


I know I will probably have a mass unfollow on twitter because of this, and that's ok because those folks aren't interested in the total package, top 40 radio and all.