Some bands get a real hard time of it, don't they? Tagged 'embarrassing' and written off. It's not a new phenomenon, but it's one that is growing in power. Sometimes, as in the case of my own late coming to Dire Straits, you're only informed that something is a bit cringey after you've already got into them.

Other times, they become uncool as their career progresses, and you're left with a fondness for an artist that you might feel suddenly ashamed of. Why does this happen? We don't have the answer, but what we do know is that everyone has an artist that could probably be considered a bit uncool.

Here, our writers defend their own secret faves...because who decides something is shame-worthy anyway?

The Darkness

At the height of their first-album fame, Lowestoft glam-rockers The Darkness were Reading Festival headliners and lead singer Justin Hawkins was flying around arenas playing guitar solos on a white tiger. After a hiatus while Hawkins got clean, these days you’ll likely find them in more humble surroundings. Critics point to the vocal histrionics, hair-metal solos and questionable catsuits as reasons to write the Darkness off. (There’s probably a reason their peak coincided with Jack Black’s ‘School of Rock’.)

But wouldn’t you rather your '80s classic rock disciples have the self-awareness to realise that the genre is inherently ridiculous? They love their music and are deeply serious about it, but they acknowledge this is all a bit silly. Beyond the obvious early hits, there’s plenty to love and the addition of Rufus Taylor on drums has elevated their live shows. ‘Friday Night’ nods to Pulp’s ‘Disco 2000’, 2011 comeback single ‘Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us’ races through city streets on Justin’s BMX. Their love for ABBA crystallises on ‘Living Each Day Blind’ a ludicrous power-ballad with a massive chorus, and their recent album ‘Easter Is Cancelled’ contains their best songs since that debut. Justin says it better than I could “Take off your thinking cap and listen to your heart”. (Dillon Eastoe)

The Fratellis

We’re all familiar with Costello Music, right? The album that explosively introduced Scottish trio The Fratellis into the music world? You’d be lying if you said you weren’t. ‘Chelsea Dagger’, ‘Whistle for the Choir’, ‘Flathead’, anthem after anthem. To call them “landfill indie”, however, would be fictitious. Keep digging and you’ll find a discography other bands would die to have. Here We Stand is a pub-rock masterclass. We Need Medicine is a country-inspired gem. Eyes Wide Tongue Tied’s hooks are stunningly crafted. In Your Own Sweet Time is a technicolour, psychedelic career highlight (with the gorgeous single ‘Starcrossed Losers’ to boot).

And the upcoming Half Drunk Under a Full Moon looks set to transform them into the prom band you wished you had. All linked by the meticulous songwriting talent of Jon Fratelli, perhaps the most underrated songwriter we have. If you haven’t found the time to explore The Fratellis’ rich and illustrious discography, I highly recommend you do so; much more than just ‘Dagger’, they are one of the most engaging, versatile and sorely overlooked bands in the UK. (Cameron Sinclair Harris)

Paris Hilton

Despite its recent reintroduction to the public through Emerald Fennel’s film, Promising Young Woman, Paris Hilton’s ‘Stars Are Blind’ still isn’t getting the recognition it deserves as a great '00s pop song. Clouded by the scandal surrounding her at the time, Hilton’s 2006 album, Paris, was never treated as an album by an artist and always as an album by an heiress.

From start to finish, the album is the light and effervescent bubblegum pop that you would expect of the soundtrack of a teen film. With similarities to artists such as Gwen Stefani’s ‘Cool’ on ‘Heartbeat’ or The Pussycat Dolls on ‘Fightin’ Over Me’, the songs could have become just as iconic as ‘Hollaback Girl’ if media bias hadn’t surrounded Paris’ release.  Tracks such as ‘Screwed’ and ‘Nothing In This World’ are just such joyous pop songs perfect to dancing with your friends to and so typical of the time. Seemingly the only argument that gets made as to why this album isn’t good is just that it’s by Paris Hilton.

Paris is not the most lyrically deep or life changing album to be released but it isn’t supposed to be. Paris is a party and it is fun, just like pop should be. (Niamh Pillinger)

Limp Bizkit

The general view of Limp Bizkit is of a bunch of stereotypical American wannabe gangstas pretending to rap over some of the most basic metal riffs ever created and that’s exactly what they are. I’m not defending Limp Bizkit.

If aliens came to Earth and had to decide whether to recycle the planet for resources or integrate us into galactic society and the first thing they heard was Limp Bizkit, we’d be done for mate. However, despite the majority of Limp Bizkit's discography being tasteless mush, terminally uncool and only very slightly preferable to death, some songs unlock something primal in the brain. That unspeakable darkness inside all of us that knows all the words to ’Break Stuff’. As a teenager, it wasn’t embarrassing, it was downright cool. Now, however, as a grown adult of class and sophistication, Limp Bizkits’ music is disgusting. But then why do I still listen to it? I mean, it’s not like I’m suddenly going to wake up one morning and put Chocolate Starfish on in its entirety but when ‘Rollin’ comes on at the nostalgic club night, you know I’ll go nutty for it. I am so ashamed. (Jack Vincent)

LMFAO

I am not remotely embarrassed by this artist and resent the title of this article for suggesting as much. I remember it well. I was in Year 10, sitting on a park bench and drinking white lightning whilst wondering why Jade didn’t like me back. One of my friends pulled out what was presumably either a Sony Ericsson W880i or a Motorola V3 and started playing some music. Little did I know, the music in question was by the greatest conceptual artists of all time. 

36 Chambers, The Wall, The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust, all of those albums walked so that Sorry For Party Rocking could run. Through a blend of fuzzy synths, unpredictable bass drops and questionable lyrics, Redfoo and Sky Blu transported me to another world, and what a world it was. There it didn’t matter whether or not Jade liked me, I was too busy shuffling with a gold robot, avoiding a dance floor apocalypse and drinking champagne with Vampires. 

Their combination of good music with storytelling is something the likes of Kanye West, Kendrick Lamar and Tyler the Creator have all tried and failed to recreate ever since this legendary LP dropped in 2011. 

And you think I’m embarrassed about liking it? LMFAO. (Dale Maplethorpe)

Foo Fighters

Whenever I mention the name ‘Foo Fighters’, I cannot help but feel slightly embarrassed that I have and always will be a fan of the American rockers. Though some may grimace at the mere mention of Dave Grohl, I pride myself in admitting that he is my hero…if you will pardon the pun.

As a child I was first introduced to the world of rock ‘n roll by the likes of Nirvana and The Smashing Pumpkins, which gradually led to my discovery of Foo Fighters – how many people can say that at 5-years-old they knew all the words to ‘Everlong’? Although it may be a surprise that I do not own a Foo Fighters tattoo, I am the owner of a plethora of merchandise so building a shrine in honour of the band would not be difficult. However, those who pity the band should know that whilst “every song may sound the same”, it is impossible to attend a Foo Fighters concert (of which I have on two occasions) and leave feeling dissatisfied. When Grohl says that, “We are gonna have a f**king party!” everybody is going to have a f**king party, and that is why I will forever be a fan. (Lucy Tessier)

Cardiacs

No-one could say that Cardiacs never progressed as a band. The first time this writer encountered them (supporting a prog rock band that shall remain nameless) in 1984, they were savagely booed by an audience of somewhere between three and four thousand. By the time Blur invited them to join them on the bill of their Mile End Stadium show at the height of Britpop in 1995, they were able to enjoy being savagely booed by 17,000 people. Everything about the band spelled commercial disaster. As if their completely madcap mixture of prog rock and punk wasn’t enough, they wore bedraggled soldiers’ uniforms and garish face make up and generally behaved like lunatics on a day out from a particularly edgy asylum.  

Routinely demolished in the music press with a viciousness that outstripped the normal bound of bitchiness, they made the national newspapers only once – when the Sunday Sport reported singer Tim Smith and sax playing ‘sister’ Sarah regularly indulged in amorous, incestuous clinches on stage. In fact, they were married but not previously related. Phew! In 2008, having left a string of albums much bellowed by their fans and hugely influential on other musicians, but always cold shouldered by press and radio, Tim Smith suffered a massive heart attack after a My Bloody Valentine gig and was wheelchair bound until his death last year. When, of course, the press and radio frothed forward with tributes to the brave maverick they never supported at the time. We would say he’d be turning in grave, but he never did the predictable thing when he was alive and so there’s no reason to think he’d start once six foot under. (Ben Willmott)

Kings of Leon

It’s a rainy Sunday afternoon and I’m driving down the motorway with nowhere to be. The radio is on – the same radio that was installed in the car back in 1991 – and I’m mindlessly humming to…I don’t even know what. Kings of Leon? I sigh. I recognise that scratchy bassline.  

An outdoor music festival, circa summer 2019. There is moisture in the air: shirt-sleeves sticking to skin, sweat beading on pores and on plastic cups overflowing with lukewarm beer. It’s hard to make out anything except the harsh glow of the stage overhead. Somewhere, a thudding bassline that people recognise. Heads nod, shoulders sway. It’s gentle. Until 'Sex on Fire' starts playing and all the adults turn into animals. It’s a jungle: people scramble up on to shoulders, they throw themselves around, toppling over, holding each other up. The boy standing next to me kisses me straight on the mouth. We’re all just kids, messing around, acting on pure impulse.

When I remember where I am – driving down the motorway – I think about sweat and that feeling of aliveness. Those are the two feelings that people really remember after a gig. You see, I was never a fan of Kings of Leon before that moment. I knew two of their songs. But I kept the T-shirt. It’s beer-stained and fading now. (Jessica Fynn)

S Club Juniors

Whereas their older cousins S Club 7 are almost guaranteed additions to family party compilation CDs and 2000s nostalgia playlists, the Juniors never quite had the same impact. What it’s easy to forget, nearly twenty years on, is just how bloody young they were. When they released their debut album Together in October 2002, Aaron Renfree was the oldest at 14 while Hannah Richings was the youngest at just 11. Eleven.

Together was standard teen-pop fare, and listening back to it in my early twenties it’s certainly not revolutionary, but it’s full of catchy melodies and infectious hooks. Again, some of them weren’t yet in their teens during recording. For someone even younger than the band members, they felt like the epitome of cool.

However, it was with second album Sundown that the band really came into their own. A little older, the octet displayed a slightly more mature image (led by the name change from Juniors to 8) and there was plenty for both pop purists (lead single ‘Fool No More’ and ‘Rush’) and those hoping for an R&B-infused sound (singles ‘Sundown’ and ‘Don’t Tell Me You’re Sorry).

The latter track in particular hinted at a really promising future for S Club 8, but alas, it was not to be. A CBBC series and soundtrack album followed, but that was it for the band - until we saw Frankie Sandford and Rochelle Wiseman pop up a few years later in The Saturdays, that is...(Adam England)

Editors

Coldplay