For a music editor, my taste is pretty unusual, to say the least. I tend to despise low-key critical favorites and obsess over outlandish oldies. From pre-packaged 90s pop to hairsprayed 80s cock rock, my iTunes spans more than five decades of classics and crummy tracks most people would rather forget. That’s why I set out to find the ten worst songs on my iPod.

The term “worst” is fuzzy, at best, when discussing art; so, I decided to exclusively choose songs the average person would roll their eyes at. You know, the records people fraudulently assume everyone who knows anything about music would despise. Go ahead, play elitist and scoff at my selections, but sometimes I’d rather listen to N’Sync’s “Tearin’ Up My Heart” than “Stairway To Heaven” or “Comfortably Numb.”

I went through every single song on my iTunes and meticulously wrote down each iTune people have ever laughed at me for not only having but attempting to play at social gatherings. Seventy-eight. Seventy-eight pieces of music hoitey toitey hobnobbers have verbally harrangued me for having. After a lot of hard work and difficult cuts, I’ve narrowed the list down to ten. Some might consider a few of the honorable mentions more egregious errors, but I was careful to only include songs I was willing to passionately defend. So, without further ado, here are the ten worst songs on my iPod and my vehement pleas as to why you should download them.

10) Rick Derringer’s Real American: Corny and pathetically patriotic, Rick Derringer’s early 80s classic makes Lee Greenwood’s catalog sound ambivalent toward Uncle Sam. It was later adopted as Hulk Hogan’s entrance music, and as a diehard wrestling fantatic, I listened to it ad nauseam between the ages of five and twelve. I tracked it down about six months ago and have been listening to it at least once a week since. There’s nothing like nostalgia and rear-naked chokes to put you in a good mood.

9) Trisia Yearwood’s How Do I Live: I can only rape and pillage for so long before I need a little sentimental country music to right my spirit. I think Kublai Khan said that right before succumbing to gout. I’ll be the first to admit “How Do I Live” is a little sappy, but after a few hours of hoodlums rapping about sexually violating young women, it’s nice to hear about endless love. I might be a cynical asshole, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want someone to hold forever. Plus, it’s played like eight times in Con Air. I’ll put the bunny back in the box if you promise to blast this song a few times each month for the rest of my life.

8) Avril Lavigne’s Girlfriend: Hell yeah, I’m the motherfuckin’ princess. I wanted to hate this song. I really did. I even openly mocked it with my friends, but secretly, deep down, I couldn’t stop humming it. At least once every fortnight, I would fall asleep, singing it silently to myself. Eventually, I just gave in, and let’s say the play count is well over thirty. You like it too. Just admit it. The facade has gone on way to long. Come over to the dark side of pre-packaged pop and join me. It’s warmer over here, and the girls are a lot dumber.

7) Davy Jones’ Girl: I tried putting this on a party mix once. A hundred people were binge drinking inside my house and rubbing up against each other when the last chords of Outkast’s “Bombs Over Baghdad” faded into the piano intro to “Girl.” I should have just murdered a puppy or stolen the keg or whipped it out. Anything. The crowd was quieter than a bar in Boston after Buckner let that ball through his legs. Finally, some quick-witted douche bag shouted, “What’s this shit?” What’s this shit, indeed. I still love it, but it’s yet to make another appearance on the weekend.

6) Enrique Iglesias’ Hero: About once a month, I get a text message from my buddy Marc. It always says the same thing: I can be your hero, baby. I giggle and continue the blatantly homoerotic bantering: I can kiss away the pain. And on it goes, until one of us realizes how gay we are. Then, we pound eight beers and eat meat. Lots of red meat. On the serious though, Enrique Iglesias is a god for recording this song, and I will listen to it on a semi-regular basis until I die.

5) Steve Goodman’s Go Cubs Go: I’m a trainwreck whenever I watch the Cubs by myself. I sit on the edge of my couch and chain smoke, only putting down my hookah hose to scream obscenities at the television. If the Cubs are down one run or more in the seventh inning, I put on “Go Cubs Go” in an attempt to change the momentum. I know they can’t hear me. Seriously, I know they can’t hear me, but deep down, they can hear me. It’s a fact.

4) Taking Back Sunday’s You’re So Last Summer: Boys like you are a dime a dozen. Perhaps no other song brings back finer memories than this track off TBS’ debut album. I was a sophomore in high school when it came out, and my delinquent friends and I would crank “You’re So Last Summer” up and drive around binge drinking in the back of minivans. To this day, I can’t hear the opening guitar riff without daydreaming about sneaking inside partially constructed houses to get wasted and stumble home before curfew.

3) Tegan And Sara’s Where Does The Good Go: Bordering on whiny and a tad bit pathetic, this track was featured prominently in an episode of Grey’s Anatomy. I downloaded it about thirty seconds after the final credits rolled. It serves as a nice contrast to the ballsy confidence of alpha male rock because occasionally, even the toughest among us, just need a little assurance.

2) Papa Roach’s Last Resort: Teenage angst is ridiculous. I grew up in the most comfortable of circumstances. My family was pretty happy. My parents were nice to me. We had plenty of money to pay the bills and plenty left over for needless purchases, but middle school is awkward, awkward and awful. Everyone’s cranky and confused, and there’s a lot of misplaced rage beneath the surface. Most people screamed out their pain with Kurt Cobain. Not me. I bellowed out Don’t give a fuck if I cut my arm bleeding. Oh, the ridiculousness of childhood.

1) The Brady Bunch’s It’s A Sunshine Day: You may have noticed this is the second song off The Brady Bunch Soundtrack. I have a problem. I watch that film at least once a month. Why? Because it’s awesome and Ben Stiller’s wife is my dream girl. Besides, everyone needs a little blind optimism now and again. It’s refreshing.