Play it again, Nirvana; actually, please don’t

My senior year in college, I walked around for three weeks with the same song stuck in my head.

It was Nirvana’s “All Apologies,” and I still can’t remember how it got there. All I know is that one fine spring day, the guitar line appeared in my head and stayed.

For the first day or two, it was OK. I’d walk around campus half-singing the lyrics to myself. “What else should I be? All apologies?” Or I’d hum the guitar part. Or I’d be completely silent; still, the tune raged during my every waking hour.

Sometime around the third day, I tried what remains my best trick for getting an annoying song out of my head: Sing Led Zeppelin’s “Whole Lotta Love.” Usually a little air guitar while growling out the opening Jimmy Page riff – “Chunk, chunk, chunk, chunk, chunk, chunk, chunk, chunk, der-dow-der-dow” – can expel even the catchiest song from my head. It even worked for that Outkast song a couple of years back.

But Nirvana refused to go away. If anything, the song entrenched itself ever more deeply in my head. By the end of the third week, I was afraid I was going mad.

And then it disappeared. The memory, however, continues to haunt me 11 years later.

Now I’ve run into trouble once again.

I’m on one of my annual efforts at self-improvement, which means a lot more time spent in the exercise room at the Community Building. And I’ve found the best way to get a good workout is to listen to rap music.

And most of the rap music played on the radio is awful, awful stuff. Not all of it. I realize I’m not breaking new ground by noticing that much of rap is tediously misogynistic or materialistic. Black Eyed Peas’ “My Humps” stands as just the latest, most egregious example of all this.

Maybe I’m just getting old.

But it’s got a good beat. That’s what I need during the workout. Still, I find that I can’t just leave the songs behind after I take off my headphones. And once again, Led Zeppelin is failing to rescue me. Perhaps it’s not the group to turn to if I’m trying to purge my mind of musical sexual boasting.

So my plea is this: Can anybody tell me how to get Young Jeezy out of my head?