Let's admit it: We all love awful music, and that's okay.

"Drop Baby Drop," by The Mana'o Company, has lyrics so bad they have caused me physical pain. The line "drop all your love on me" conjures vivid fecal imagery for me, made all the more disturbing by the next line, "drop 'cause I'm hungry."

Then there is the puzzling couplet, "My heart does the tango/every little move you make/I love you like a mango/wish we could make it everyday." That really makes me wonder just what it is the songwriter does with mangoes. And why he decided to include two unnecessarily awkward words like "tango" and "mango" in the first place.

I love the song, though. It has a certain innocent charm to it, like much throwaway Hawaiian pop, unashamed of reading like a kindergartener's poem or being unabashedly sexual. I listen to a lot of tinny, ukulele-infused reggae for that reason and, though none of it is quite that cringe-inducing (aside from "Punani Patrol" by Sean Na'auao), none of it could be confused for Bob Dylan, or even Bob Marley (except "Guava Jelly," by Ka'au Crater Boyz, which was originally Marley's).

So how does so-called Jahwaiian music fit in with the weak-voiced, muzzy headed Indie and Alternative rock that makes up the majority of what I listen to? Maybe it comes from the hipster inside of all of us, who seriously wants to laugh at himself. My upbringing on Oahu played a part as well, but only in determining which specific lowbrow strain to pursue.

My friend recently wrote a blog in which he said he loved Hair Metal because it "is a hell of a lot of fun, especially when you place [it] next to the pretentious Indy and Emo bands who are producing music that always has to mean something." I understand his argument, but I think the most fun is to be had by balancing music that tries hard for significance and artistic credibility with music that just wants to party.

Most of us listen to both types, in my experience. I have a friend who has an entire library's worth of classical piano, but there are times, though he doesn't like to tell his Liberal Arts classmates, when he blasts the Jahwaiian. It probably also explains the enthusiasm of so many trendy college-age kids (myself among them) for Bay Area rap, which actively goes for the "so dumb it's actually just really dumb" effect.

Can you honestly look into your own library of songs without finding, somewhere, something embarrassing? That Blink-182 song you loved in junior high? The Ninja Turtles theme? MC Hammer? Journey? UB-40? "Baby Got Back"?

And I also have friends whose musical tastes are cribbed from the soundtracks of movies like "American Pie" and "Spider-Man" whose mix tapes will surprise you by separating an Avril Lavigne song from an 'N Sync tune with a ten-minute improvisation from Miles Davis or John Coltrane. People are more complicated than they are often given credit for, and their record collections reflect that. Everyone loves a few terrible songs, and even people with the worst taste can't get it wrong all the time.