The Smiths, The Queen Is Dead The Queen Is Dead arrived in June 1986, a month before my 21st birthday. I should have loved this album. I was squarely in the target demographic: relatively well-read, prone to existential gloominess, a little pissed-off and very confused about what was coming next. And, I'm Mexican-American. To many of us, Morrissey is just Vicente Fernandez with a different accent and no charro suit. Good music. Thoughtful lyrics. So, what's the problem?

I find it boring. It evokes no feeling in me, not even hate. It's so lukewarm I can barely work up any ire over it now. I know The Smiths poured everything into their work, but all I got was a droplet. The rest of my cup is empty. Even the guy on the album cover looks like he's about to fall asleep during "Frankly,Mr. Shankly."

"There Is a Light That Never Goes Out," considered the best of the bunch, makes me want to bang my head with bricks just to put something noisy and interesting, like a concussion, in my head. I'm aware there's something to this music that learned critics see as brilliant and millions of listeners understand. But, for me, life is very long when you're lonely... or listening to The Smiths. JESSE SENDEJAS JR.

Bruce Springsteen, Born in the U.S.A.. Bruce Springsteen is "The Boss" to a lot of people. So many, in fact, that I often feel like the only one who doesn't like him. Look, I tried. Then I tried some more. I just don't get Springsteen. Of course, he is playing what's labeled as "heartland rock," and my patriotism lasts as long as "The Star Spangled Banner" at a sporting event.

I'm also not a fan of Springsteen's voice, so it's a package deal that I just can't get into. For good measure, I tried listening to artists who take after him, such as Frank Turner and Gaslight Anthem, to see if they could bridge the gap that stands between me and the rest of America. But the verdict has been made -- that sound is not for me. ALYSSA DUPREE

Sublime, Sublime Among my friends and colleagues, I'm known for being open-minded when it comes to music, but Sublime does something to me that I just can't explain. I love '90s punk, and if it's the right sound, I don't mind listening to ska or reggae. But the combination of the three? Not something I can do.

Although Sublime doesn't feature as many straight covers as there were on 40 oz. to Freedom, it's crazy to me that an album with that many covers (or "partial" covers) can become so popular. But the joke's on me, because "Santeria" seems to be on every playlist at every party I attend. ALYSSA DUPREE