Surviving the Top Hits

It’s happened to all of us. You’re sitting in the Dav, trying to get some actual work done when you notice a foot tapping. Your foot tapping. To what music, you’re not sure, but it’s nothing your right mind would ever approve of. Or your left.

Then it moves to the shower, and your roommates start hearing a garbled version of Maroon 5’s “Misery” emanating from the bathroom. And before you know it, Katy Perry’s “Teenage Dream” is playing from YOUR iTunes while you write a new blog post for The Eagle.

If this happens to you, don’t blame yourself. Your brain isn’t self-destructive – it’s adaptive. All of those stupid songs you can’t stand when they debut but somehow work their way into your personal dance parties…this is nothing more than a survival instinct.  If you can’t beat ‘em (or drown them out), join ‘em.

CICCIOETNEO / FLICKR

Evolution has adapted us for the generations of repetitive DJ’s and top-hit lists playing like broken records. There’s only so much M.I.A. you can listen to before your mind goes m.i.a.  So don’t fight it; the last thing you want is to despise the song stuck in your head.

Just as they stop playing Spears’ “Womanizer” and you think you’re in the clear, Wha-bam! Here comes Owl City crooning about bugs dancing around his room, the Black-Eyed Peas with whatever nonsensical pop hit they last released, Beyonce telling guys to, “put a ring on it,” like women (not Kanye) need to be muzzled, and Jamie Foxx convincing his teenage listeners to “blame it on the a-a-a-a-alcohol.”

So go ahead, have a little party in the USA. Evacuate the dance floor; let loose and do whatever it is you do with a disco stick. No matter how lyrically mangled or repetitive, you can’t fight the music, so you might as well dance with it. Because I’ve got a feelin’ that no matter whatcha say, you’re dying to put “Sexy Chick” on replay and just dance on top of your TDR table.

Though Mike Posner’s catchy groove has convinced me that I AM cooler than you, I promise I will not pass any judgments the next time I see your head boppin’ to that stuff Ke$ha calls music.