Blessed are the cheesemakers

There's a modern affliction, known as "end-of-the-millennium top-10-list blues", and it has infected the world of arts and entertainment…

There's a modern affliction, known as "end-of-the-millennium top-10-list blues", and it has infected the world of arts and entertainment like a Y2K virus. Cineastes are concentrating on the century's defining moments of celluloid; bookworms are burrowing into the past 1,000 years of literature, determined to get the last word on the greatest books of all time; and music fans are fine-tuning their radars in a last-ditch attempt to track the top records of the rock 'n' roll era.

Symptoms differ according to genre, but the different strains of list-o-mania have some common characteristics: they bring out the anorak-clad trainspotter in all of us, and they reduce modern culture to an easily-recognisable set of cultural totems. There's also an element of belonging: when the public is invited to contribute to these so-called definitive lists, we feel empowered, able to rub opinions with the great commentators of the age, and capable of influencing modern culture with just a flick of our bic.

Sadly, no cure for this fin de sie- cle fever seems likely to be found before the year 2000, so not only will we be running around at five minutes to midnight on December 31st looking for a meaningful way of welcoming in the new millennium, we'll also be arguing inconclusively about which Shakespeare play most accurately enacted our subconscious desires, which Picasso painting most clearly outlined our inner confusion, and which Beatles album best amplified the music inside our heads. Sounds like a busy New Year's Eve ahead for us all. Music lovers, however, will be spared all this time-wasting squabbling, because Channel 4 has joined forces with HMV to conduct the UK and Ireland's biggest-ever music survey, Music of the Millennium. The idea is to get as many people as possible to vote in 10 categories, so nailing down once and for all which is the best song, best album, best band, best singer, best performer and most influential musician . . . ever!

To help Joe Public decide, Channel 4 is screening a number of short programmes in which celebrities discuss their personal choice. Among these is Sinead O'Connor waxing lyrically about Bob Marley, Shane MacGowan discussing The Dubliners, and the Divine Comedy declaiming on Brecht/Weill's Mack The Knife. Be cautioned that these 15-minute endorsements are not intended to influence voters - Channel 4 is not seriously expecting you to choose the Pop Group's We Are All Prostitutes as the greatest single of all time, purely on the recommendation of Nick Cave.

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The voting process is simple: pick up a leaflet at HMV, or write your votes on one of the special carrier bags which HMV is producing especially for the survey. Alternatively, you can log on to the Music of the Millennium Website at http://www.motm.co.uk and cast your vote through cyberspace. Channel 4 and HMV are hoping hundreds of thousands of people will answer the call, and they're even offering prizes for each thousandth voter, plus a chance to make your own Music of the Millennium television programme. The final results will be revealed in November, after which we can all go back to our Status Quo albums, content in the knowledge that popular music has finally been bagged, tagged and given the millennium stamp of greatness.

As a writer with more than a passing interest in music, I probably should be excited by the prospect of adding my vote to this ambitious poll. Strangely, however, I'm just not that interested. It's not that I don't care about great music, or that I will necessarily disagree with the final verdict (although if OK Computer is voted above The Bends, I might demand a steward's inquiry). It's just that I find best-of lists to be depressingly predictable, if not downright boring. The final tally of the Music of the Millennium poll, for instance, will no doubt feature all the obvious greats such as The Beatles, Dylan, Sinatra, Beethoven, Elvis, Mozart and Billie Holiday. It will probably be more fun to go down the bookies and lay bets on who's going to win - we all know who's going to end up in the final race; we just don't yet know what order they'll finish in.

Indeed, I even wonder if a best-of list is necessarily the best way to gauge true greatness. I believe you can tell a lot more about pop culture by digging below its shining surface of golden greats and uncovering the pungent cheese which posterity would prefer to keep hidden.

Look at the best-selling records of the past year, however, and compare them with the critics' choices of 1998, and you'll see a huge chasm opening between what pundits think people should like, and what people really like. While I and my ilk were banging on about Mercury Rev's Deserter's Songs and U.N.K.L.E.'s Psyence Fiction, the record-buying public was lapping up the latest dross from Steps, B*Witched and 911. It would seem that one person's cheese is another person's Boyzone.

I believe you can tell a lot more about pop culture by digging below its shining surface of golden greats and uncovering the pungent cheese which posterity would prefer to keep hidden. If I were to compile a list of my least favourite artists ever, it would be dominated by superstars with sales in excess of 50 million albums, and my 10 most irritating songs would all be chart-toppers. Try drawing up your own cheesy list. Choose from the rich flavours of the 1970s, where Dean Friedman, Gilbert O'Sullivan and Jonathan King reigned supreme. Or elect a 1980s icon such as Duran Duran, Kajagoogoo or Nik Kershaw. The pop world is your oyster - covered in runny Gruyere cheese, of course.

Remember, though, it takes talent to write a truly cheesy song. You need verses which dig in like verrucas, middle-eights which mangle your senses, and choruses which contaminate the very core of your being. If an artist wants to reach my top-10 cheese list, it's not enough to write a trite, throwaway pop ditty such as Barbie Girl; they have to put some serious work into it, piling on the niggling melody lines, the annoying fills and the irritating vocal affectations.