Okay I just threw up in my mouth a little bit writing that sentence. Then I went and wept in a corner for a little while. But I'm back now, and well it's out. I can't hide it anymore. It started so innocently. I was on the way home from work and I heard the radio DJ introduce the new Nickeback song, and immediately I gagged and lunged for the button to change the station. But then I heard the first few seconds of it, and my finger hesitated. It sounded like, well it sounded, okay I guess. I mean obviously I would hate it because Nickelback represented everything wrong with the music industry, no scratch that, everything wrong with the world. They were the epitome of generic and every single song of their's sounded not only identical to one another but identical to every song ever written by one of Nickelback's counterparts-you know the bands I'm talking about-gravelly voiced singers whose vocals sound like they're trying to pass gas, depression lite lyrics, songs that basically make you want to pierce your own eardrums if only to make the music stop. So I listened for a little while longer, ready to ridicule, ready to mock, ready to hate. But none of those things happened. I felt like the Grinch waiting for the little Who's to wail and moan, but instead he hears them singing. Until that moment I would never classify what Nickelback does as anything remotely relating to singing. But listening to their new song, well they were singing. And then, to my horror, I not only didn't hate the song, well I kind of liked it. I listened to the entire thing, and then when it was over I went into a deep shame spiral and told myself it was just a momentary lapse, that I would hear the song again, hate it, and all would be right in the world again. But then the next day I heard it on the radio again, and like some kind of junkie, I just couldn't turn away. I listened to it from beginning to end, and I didn't hate it. I liked it again, and worse of all, I liked it even more. It was fun and upbeat, with a great anthem type chorus. It was a freaking good pop song. It sounded like the love child of Matchbox 20 and U2.
So that's my confession. My soul is no longer burdened by this dark, painful secret. Here and now I have admitted it. I like a Nickelback song. When I hear it on the radio, I turn the volume up. I don't know what this makes me. I'm not sure about anything anymore. What's next? Am I going to start recording episodes of Paris Hilton's BFF show on MTV? Will I line up for the Beverly Hills Chihuahah movie this Friday? How bad will this get? How low can I possibly sink? I'm not sure of anything anymore. But I have to hope that admitting I have a problem really is the first step. God willing, with time, I will regain my Nickelback gag reflex. God willing the world will make sense once more.