Idolator

There was a time when a new issue of Britain's Q magazine was cause for celebration: Where else could you read out about Robbie Williams' sexual confusion, the Gallagher brothers' over-theatrical scrap-a-loos, and dozens of overhyped, underwhelming Brit-pop bands all at once? Alas, Q has become barely readable in the last two years, its coverage consisting of either yup-rock nostalgia (punk was great, etc.) or obligatory, if-we-shove-them-down-your-throats-you'll-have-to-like-them nods to Brit-pop's sorry status quo (Keane). But they've hit a new low with their saddening "Guilty Pleasures" cover package.

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It's not the selections themselves that are troubling, though how Def Leppard's 12 million-selling Hysteria could be considered "shamefully underrated" is beyond us; it's the fact that people are still using the "guilty pleasure" term in 2006, with Journey being played on Laguna Beach and Hall & Oates historical-revisionism already at the five-year mark. Nobody actually feels guilty about these records—which is why the whole "guilty pleasures" rubric is a big lie, and just an excuse used by lazy Fleet Streeters to run more campy, poofy-haired Flock of Seagulls pictures.

So let's push things forward: From now on, a if you use the phrase "guilty pleasure" to describe anything (and here's hoping you don't) has to be something you actually feel guilty about enjoying—not Dexy's Midnight Runners or Foreigner. We mean something truly impossible to defend, like, say, "Scooby Snacks" by the Fun' Lovin Criminals. Not that we know anyone who owns that.