year 11 alcopops vauntingly gauche pseudo-disco for the mondo man in every prom night. Unceasingly drab and bleak, with a concrete sealing that just ascends upwards and upwards into the hell of enforced positivity. Original disco had some ambiguity to it, a dark side beneath the mass marketed disposability veneer. This is just mindfulness music 20 years before the fact. kill kill kill.
oh this has to go in there. 1992 was probably the best year in music ever and this had to become anthem status. Sad thing is it could be a decent tune if it didn't sound so tinny and if the producer worked on giving it a thumping bassline.
everyone likes the same stuff, the stuff people hate is more individual - choices riding on histories of personal trauma, moments torn from bygone eras - very specific to age and experience, highly subjective