Imaginary Children

Yesterday, for the first time in recorded memory, I chose to listen to John (Cougar) Mellencamp and his Human Wheels album. Surprisingly, I quite enjoyed it

Yesterday, randomly, BadmintonStamps.com, a music blog I drop by from time to time, posted this (with downloadable track):

"It's hard to hate on John Mellencamp. He does his thing and he does it competently. But for all his general good guy decentness, in the end he'll always be a pop tart version of the Boss. That's because Mellancamp is to Springsteen what Coldplay is to Radiohead; a watered down version your imaginary daughter likes. This is of course assuming that you have an imaginary daughter. I recommend getting one if you haven't already. My imaginary daughter is eleven years old, her favorite movies are Ferris Bueller's Day Off and Splendor in the Grass, she reads Teen Vogue although it's a little advanced for her but she wants to seem cool, and she loves converse sneakers and Mellencamp. She's a pretty cool girl and I love her to pieces. And seeing her imaginary smile when this song comes on convinces me that I love the Mellencamp too. I mean, sure he's not in the same league as Bruce Springsteen, but at least he takes a dump on Bryan Adams".