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Guilty Pleasures

Our personalities are often subjugated into the parameters of "haters." People who are unsatisfied with the lack of fulfillment in their own lives so they want to limit the extent of other people's happiness. We label ourselves fans of certain films, books, or music. We often feel we need specific examples of things we enjoy to describe ourselves. I want to address a phenomenon, that I myself, have experienced on a number of occasions. What happens when one of these "likes," ventures outside our normal wheelhouse? Have you ever been made fun of for liking a certain song or artist? I myself have a very eclectic taste in just about everything, music, movies, even religions. But I, like you, am not immune to the internal struggle, the competition, of persona and enjoyment. I am, once again, guilty of liking something "uncool" or "corny." Have you ever seen a 300-pound biker singing Miley Cyrus? What about a teenage inner-city youth belting out Celine Dion? Sometimes we have to push our boundaries. Sometimes we have to try new things. Getting to the point. My current guilty pleasure is a song by two artists, who I have publicly condemned and criticized in my own life.
I applauded Jay-Z's Death to Autotune for its unabashed execution of T Pain's career. Or so I thought. It wasn't that I didn't enjoy his music, I just thought he was a faux musician, who used computers to make his tunes. He took the beautiful art form of pure talented singing and turned it into a do-it-yourself. Can't Sing? Try autotune. But what I realized after hearing so many others use the technique is that he was, ironically, an original. His voice simply, works, with autotune.
Next, Wiz Khalifa used to be one of my favorite up and coming rappers. Being a native of the Steel City, I had respect for Wiz. Show and Prove was one of the best mixtape freshman albums I had heard in a long time. Pittsburgh Sound was a throwback beat with catching lyrics. Gonna Ride was an ode to old westerns with its Spanish trumpets that inspired a feeling of "ride or die." But I chastised Wiz for selling out. I thought he cheapened himself and his lyrics. Maybe he smoked too much. In my book, both men are vindicated in this song. Maybe its Lily Allen the soulfully classic English siren. Either way, I am guilty of my criticisms. But, I am not guilty of liking this song. My jam of the week:

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