Moving house is a traumatic frustration. My sense of residential equilibrium—in reality a precarious arrangement of assorted junk—is rudely disturbed by deadlines and pushy landlords. Nothing heightens one’s pragmatism more than the knowledge that you have one day to get out or be kicked out. There is no room for sentimentality when there is the real possibility of homelessness. Study notes are treated with disdain, as are piles of receipts. Clothes are strewn into suitcases, with cursory attempts to fold them properly. Many times I wondered why I owned so much stuff.

Nevertheless, my music was sacrosanct. Helpers for the Great Move of 2006 were warned to treat CDs with care and digipaks with even greater respect. I nearly had a coronary as a Helper clumsily manhandled a rare Tim Rogers 7”. As a good music critic, pragmatism doesn’t apply to my unwieldy music collection. No amount of indie posturing or tenancy deadlines could force me to jettison these guilty pleasures, which have been previously hidden away and never played through speakers.

Amiel – Obsession (I Love You)

This Australian singer first rose to prominence as the saucer-eyed siren on Josh Abraham’s Australian college radio hit “Addicted to Bass.” Too worldly to blast you with vocal gymnastics, she instead looked you over with a hushed croon. Unlike every other nymphette jailbait female singer on the charts, Amiel possessed an alluring aloofness. For the next five years she wasn’t aloof so much as AWOL, only returning with the mainstream hit “Lovesong.” Its success was driven in large part by the controversy of the f-bomb in the chorus and the subsequent release of a clean version. How Eminem of her.

“Obsession (I Love You)” soon followed “Lovesong,” but failed to match its predecessor’s success. Radio may not have loved its trashy opening, with its jarring synths and effects, but they failed to see its true charm. Hidden amongst the busy effects is a sweet melody and a disturbing paean of fixation. Thankfully, the production is not enough to mar a quality song.

S Club 7 – Don’t Stop Movin’

S Club 7 cop the bassline and groove straight from “Billie Jean,” but good golly it’ll get you on the dancefloor. It’s the perfect dance/pop number. “Don’t Stop Movin’” makes even the most sedentary music fan want to bust a move. It’s in the song’s DNA.

It’s in the insistent tambourine. It’s in the multi-tracked chorus. It’s in Jo O’Meara’s explosion into orbit during the middle eight. I never knew why the boys were even in this group and “Don’t Stop Movin” again shows that sass is linked to the X chromosome. This song is definitely in the housewarming playlist.

Natalie Imbruglia – Torn

This is a classic pop song, with memorable hooks and an angst-filled performance that Natalie never surpassed. The song was the archetypal boy-meets-girl, boy-mistreats-girl scenario—far from original, but few songs had the lyrical conceit of Natalie “lying naked on the floor.” And yes, listen closely, how many pop ditties would have an electric guitar solo as its coda? Tabloid hacks over in Old Blighty tried to lay into our Natalie because she didn’t write the song—but really, who gives a fuck?

I may have packed away my indie cred, but I also remembered to bring headphones.

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