BEYOND THE IMPLODE 3 - BRITISH AIRWAYS 0

...so you're running down the escalator, late for work for the fourth day on the trot, and your brain is spinning No Way No Way by Vanilla on a loop. You're sitting down the pub, bragging about your new Warp boxset - then your foot involuntarily starts to tap to the beat when some freak puts Babylon Zoo's Spaceman on the juke! You're sitting an important exam, with £16,000 worth of student debt at stake - your paper demands 3,000 words on what Chaucer really meant when he said "gave her a kick up the queynte", but your ears are buzzing to the chorus of Pride (In The Name Of Love) - FOR TWO HOURS. What on earth is going on?

Randomly getting 'crap song' loops in your head is a common phenomenon, but why does it happen? Well, back in the 1980s, the theory was that radio waves were zinging around all over the place. Scientists argued that, as these waves were flying through the air at the 'speed of radio', before making contact with transistor sets across the world, it was inevitable that some waves would woosh through folks' heads on their travels - turning these peoples' brains into temporary receivers.

Fortunately, we now know that EVERY single 'theory' posited in the 1980s was bullshit, so we can dismiss this flight of fancy and curse the so-called 'experts' who were paid thousands to peddle such voodoo to the public. No, the honest answer to this question is - - you get crap songs in your head because you secretly like them. That's about it, really.

Sit down, take a swig of something strong. You're not going to like this, and I hate to be the cat driving the car, but it's true. You just can't shift R Kelly's I Believe I Can Fly from your head, and it's "driving you crazy"?? No it's not - you like it, deep down. The fact you have to tell everyone in your vicinity, "GOD, I CAN'T GET THIS CRAP R KELLY SONG OUT OF MY HEAD, IT'S BEEN THERE ALL MORNING!" proves it. You're basically the kid who goes "SHARON? WHAT, SHE'S COMING TO THE PARTY? SHE'S REALLY STUCK-UP, SHE'S THICK TOO...WHAT TIME IS SHE COMING?"... and then tries to add her as a Facebook friend, 15 years later.

You just got a Dollar song in your head? Ha, I don't care how many Ghostbox albums you own - face facts, YOU LOVE DOLLAR. Your girlfriend's dozing off in a post-coital slumber in your arms, and suddenly Boyz II Men fire up in your skull? Yeah, you like to kid yourself that the most romantic date in the world would be taking her to see Nick Cave, then sitting up all night drinking coffee, smoking and talking about life and death - with Jim Jarmusch turning it into a black and white film, natch. But you don't really want to do that. You REALLY want to plonk your G/F onto a pink swing, gently push her through wisps of dry ice, and serenade her with I Swear! You utter queynte.

I told you you wouldn't like this post. But there y'go - it's not just a 'random coincidence'. You get these songs in your head because you secretly love and crave them, 24/7.

There's actually a very easy psychological explanation for why this is happening. Think of your 'conscious mind' as a rather refined superstar DJ. Your conscious mind is Norman Jay, basically. So your conscious mind's flicking through a box of carefully pre-selected 12"s to create and maintain a certain dancefloor vibe. This 'vibe' is how you choose to perceive reality, and how you opt to define yourself.

Only problem with this is your 'subconscious mind' doesn't really get any say in the playlist, and ends up feeling neglected. Your 'subconscious mind' is the bloke who approaches the DJ box, slurring, "'SCUSE MATE, YOU GOT ANY...?" The conscious mind gets pissed off, disgustedly turns its back on the subconscious, and selects a top tune that'll get the punters grooving. The audacity! Does he think this is 'Grab A Gran' night at Genie's, or something?

Your conscious 'inner DJ' knows that King Midas Sound and a bit of Cutty Ranks will fill the spot nicely. Your subconscious punter, however, taps the infuriated DJ on the shoulder, requesting THE greatest dancehall tune ever committed to vinyl - Rat In Mi Kitchen. The conscious mind responds by spinning some Big Black and Shellac at full blast - but it's just a feeble attempt to drown out the subconscious mind as it pogos round the dancefloor, shout-singing: IN A BIIIIG CUNTTRY / DREAMSHH SHHHTAY WITH YOOOOO. You can try and fool yourself that the subconscious has gone home at 2am after failing to pull, or been chucked out and mullah'd by the bouncers. But he's there, every minute of the day. Perched at the front of the DJ booth of your consciousness. Demanding a tune. It's YOU vs YOU. Forever.

That's how it works, no shit. Look, I know this revelation has come of a bit of a shock to you all. Maybe you need to lie down for a while. Yeah, yeah - you thought your brain just retained fragments of songs you heard on some awful station at work 15 years ago, which merely crop up again at inopportune moments as some sort of 'fluke'. But there's no fluke. You love these songs - you just can't admit it to yourselves. In fact, your record collections are a big lie.

I know it's really hard, and I've destroyed 2010 for you, etc, but just learn to deal with it. Even I'm not immune - I had Kraftwerk in my head earlier, for Christ's sake. How do you think I feel realising I love those nazi synth-nerds? So, next time you get Daphne & Celeste in your head, don't grimace - realise that, in your heart of hearts, you love them. Give yourself a gentle kick for missing that gig they played at G.A.Y in 1999, and move on. Cheer up - the Van Der Valk theme tune'll be along in a minute.