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What hath Gwen wrought?

It's time. I'm calling it. The worst song on the radio, summer 2008, is "Love Remains The Same" by Gavin Rossdale.

"But," you're saying, "He's the guy from Bush! Everything Zen! That kick-ass song from that werewolf movie! How can he do anything that sucks?" Well, go find a download or pop over to YouTube and check it out. Hear for yourself.

See? Lame. Lame, lame, lame. And overplayed. It's on the "alternative" radio station at least three times a day while I'm at work. And I don't even listen to the radio all day, so it might be more often. But why? Is it popular just because of who it is? Is it payola? And more important, how could a former rock demigod like Gavin Rossdale possibly record such an insufferably lame song?

I have a theory. I'm going to blame his wife, Gwen Stefani.

She did some cool stuff in the past. "Spiderwebs" was a cool song. And she looked really cute walking around barefoot in that blue dress in the "Don't Speak" video. But then, it all went wrong, somehow. And now, not content to break up No Doubt, not willing to rest on her laurels after making the world a slightly more horrifying place with the atrocity of "Hollaback Girl," she has set her sights higher (or is it lower?) and somehow convinced, cajoled, forced, or possibly just allowed her husband to record a ballad so horrid it would make John Waite cringe.

Now, don't get me wrong; there's nothing wrong with lame songs. But there is an art to lameness; you can't just suck and call it a day. You have to get to that Phil Collins place, where you know you're lame, but you make it work for you. And you can't half-ass it. Phil gives his lameness his all, and in the process becomes just a little bit awesome. Same thing with Richard Marx. Steve Perry. And, perhaps the king of kings, Barry Manilow. These are the levels of lame that you have to shoot for.

Miss that mark by just a little bit, however, and suddenly you're Kip Winger.

Gavin, I get it. You love your wife. She makes you want to do all sorts of sappy things, write cheesy songs, give up your hard rockin' ways and sing ballads to her all day long. I understand, really. But come on, man; either do it or don't.

I'll expect better things from the next single. Step it up a notch, or go home.

And Gwen, shame on you for allowing this.
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