Lamentin' in da club

I'll admit it. Once every Olympiad I'll take a liking to a country music song. And last year, I found myself digging every slide guitar bend and twangy vocal of Rascal Flatts' ballad "What Hurts The Most."

If you don't know the song the song, skip the first 47 seconds of the "dramatic" opening of the music video to acquaint yourself with it. The lament expressed in the chorus lyrics is as follows:

What hurts the most
Was being so close
And having so much to say
And watching you walk away
And never knowing
What could have been
And not seeing that loving you
Is what I was tryin’ to do

Now, fast-forward to my flipping through satellite radio channels on yesterday's commute home. I heard a woman singing a cover of the same song. Other than a half-step key-change, it sounded nearly identical at the beginning. Then, halfway through the first verse, something very odd happened.

NNtssNNtssNNtssNNtss!

Yes, Cascada made the cathartic, tear-jerker "What Hurts the Most" into a dance track. It's such a strange convergence, taking a sappy ballad and throwing a thumping bass, some hair gel and glow sticks into the mix.

I figure it's just proof that no one listens to (or cares about) lyrics anymore, but let's assume for a moment that hard-core clubbers do care about them. There's just something funny about the image of gyrating tank-toppers sobbing uncontrollably while grinding against a total stranger.

It all screamed "Happy Valentine's Day!" to me.