A weekload of “arrgh!”

The universe can be cruel to those of us with too much old pop music in our brains. The simple mention, days ago, of an otherwise long-forgotten band unleashed an entire week of Three Dog Night earworms on me. Earlier in the week it was “One,” whose suckage was diminished by the fact that Harry Nilsson wrote it and I could get the Aimee Mann version stuck into my head — Aimee could sing “Muskrat Love” and I’d think it was amazing, so that wasn’t so bad. Moved through some of the rest of their hits catalog, and yesterday and today I’ve been under the weight of “Shambala,” a real piece of crap with good hooks and backup singing that really sticks in the craws of the brain. Tragically, I can even remember the label (ABC/Dunhill), as it was — I swear this — the only Three Dog Night single I ever bought. Now that I’ve confessed all this, I’m hoping the spell will be broken before I find myself buying any of these monstrosities at the Apple Music Store, which was ultimately what I had to do in order to get “Clap for The Wolfman” out of my head, lo those many months ago.