EMI
Pop, 1999

Oh, Roxette. They are truly the epitome of cheesy pop music of the late 1980s and early 1990s, and it is hard to listen to them now without cringing in shame. The lyrics that don’t make sense, the insanely catchy choruses, and the way these songs are played at the most uncool parties and lame supermarkets… ah, those memories.

It is with great furtiveness that I manage to get a copy of Roxette’s greatest hits collection, the aptly named Don’t Bore Us—Get To The Chorus! I have to hand it to Roxette: at least they get the joke that they are crappy songwriters that happen to make songs with lethally infectious choruses.

I still want to bring out the lighters and sway my hands in the air whenever I hear the epic, swoon-worthy Listen to Your Heart. I still sigh whenever I hear It Must Have Been Love – what a heartfelt, beautiful song, even if I have no idea what nonsense Marie Fredriksson is singing! I will put on my most garish yoga kimono and sway my hands in what I hope to be a Kodak moment to the gorgeous Almost Unreal. I don’t know what “Do the hocus pocus to me!” means, but it sounds sexy.

Roxette can rock too. “Yeah, yeah, yeah!” goes the stupendously awesome Dressed for Success. I have no idea what “Another town where I get close to the bone”  mean, but I have great time doing my bad Alice Cooper impersonation to it. Yeah, Dangerous: “Hold on tight, you know she’s a little bit dangerous!” Whatever that means, but dang if this song isn’t the perfect summer chill pill. Fading Like a Flower (Every Time You Leave) makes no sense whatsoever too, but what the heck, I’m too busy having fun.

Who’s up for a Joyride? Altogether now: “Hello you fool! I love you!” Don’t forget their first hit, The Look, where Per Gessle actually admits to stringing phrases together, damn coherence and grammar, because “it sounds good”. English teachers everywhere will want to spank that impertinent fellow, I’m sure. But first, we’re all magic friends as we ride the beautiful balloon to baboon land. Or something.

Roxette. They’re gloriously crap and they know it, bless their hearts.