We drew two random entries from all the responses we received, and the winners are…

Laura Nash, who said: “Anything by the Mountain Goats, but to make me fall in love? ‘Last Man on Earth’ off Heretic Pride. Anyone who would think a love song about zombies belongs on a mix tape gets my vote.”

Eric Block, who said: “‘The Shining,’ by Badly Drawn Boy. It’s kind of depressing, I know, but ever since it was used in the TV show Saved I’ve wanted to fall in love listening to that song.”

Congratulations, Laura and Eric, and thanks to everyone who wrote in!

Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist is in theaters now.

But when presidential candidates appropriate songs - broadcasting them to far more people than I ever could - all they get are sternly-worded statements from the artists themselves.

Remember when ladyrockers Heart laid the smackdown on ladypol Sarah Palin for using their song “Barracuda”? Well, John McCain’s campaign has run afoul of yet another band: the Foo Fighers are mad as hell that the GOP candidate is using their 1997 single “My Hero” as his new theme song, and they’re not going to take it any more. (Mmm, but what are the odds McCain will pay a dime in fines?) From the Guardian:

The band said that permission to use the song was not sought from them, their management, their label or their publisher.

“The saddest thing about this is that My Hero was written as a celebration of the common man and his extraordinary potential,” the statement reads, although many fans have speculated that the song, written by Foo Fighters frontman Dave Grohl, refers to his admiration for former Nirvana bandmate Kurt Cobain.

“To have it appropriated without our knowledge and used in a manner that perverts the original sentiment of the lyric just tarnishes the song. We hope that the McCain campaign will do the right thing and stop using our song — and start asking artists’ permission in general.”

Okay. John McCain’s music programming people? Even if you can’t figure out how to get permission for the songs you use, you could at least do a Google and doublecheck an artist’s political leanings, or his past response to having his songs appropriated by your party:

Were you crushed after the election?
Fuck, yes. I wanted to riot. But rather than write an angry Rage Against the Machine record, I wanted to give a sense of hope and release and faith. One of the reasons I did that with the Kerry campaign was because I was personally offended that George Bush was using [the Foo Fighters'] “Times Like These” at his campaign rallies. We were trying to think of a way to get him to stop. “Fuck, man, I’m gonna send the president a cease and desist order.”

Think this’ll be enough to get Grohl to revive his own political aspirations?

*I’m not saying I would pick “Cold Hearted Snake” as the theme song for Ruined Music. For one thing, it reminds me too much of junior high dances.

At this same time I was developing a hopeless crush on a good friend. In the interest of saving him from embarrassment, I’ll call him Jordan. We had been best buddies way back in our preschool days, but because he ended up a grade ahead of me and went to a different school, we grew apart.

This impossible infatuation began when I was in eleventh grade. Overachiever that I was, I enrolled in his Math 12 and Physics 12 classes. I took every opportunity that I could to start conversations about the laws of momentum and logarithms with him.

After he graduated, we only interacted through email and the internet; on rare occasions we saw each other on an afternoon since I worked with his mom. In February, I got up the nerve to ask him to be my date for prom. At first he said no, but being persistent, I asked him again, eventually convincing him to go with me.

By the time prom arrived and I was incredibly nervous. The afternoon began with him arriving too early and me running past the bay of windows, where he had parked, in a housecoat. Never before had I managed to zip myself into a dress so fast; thank goodness my hair and makeup were already done.

I casually walked out of the bedroom looking elegant, only to find Jordan looking very anxious indeed. After polite introductions to my family, an hour of photos, and starting out the door before he realized he had forgotten to give me my corsage, we headed to the arena where my school’s prom was being held. We quickly found a spot in the forming line and he proceeded to stuff his face with Timbits. That was when I decided my prom wasn’t going to be the perfect, romantic night I had hoped it would be. I didn’t have feelings for Jordan any more, but he was still my date for the night.

When the dance began that evening, I headed off to an available table and tried to avoid the inevitable, but Jordan found me. Dancing our first awkward song together simply confirmed the fact that we were just friends. He only felt comfortable dancing the slow songs with me, so a couple of times I slipped off to dance with other guys in my class.

Midnight came, that magical hour when the princess is supposed to run off and leave behind a glass slipper. As for me, we were only six songs into the night, and I wished I could leave my sore, stepped-on feet behind.

As the night dragged on, Jordan got up more and more courage to dance with me. When another slow song came to an end, I went to take my leave – and that’s when the opening notes of “Our Song” began to play. Jordan didn’t let go of me. To my surprise, he couldn’t follow the beat, even though he was a drummer. I found myself cringing as he tried to dance. My favourite song was being ruined by sweaty palms and a kind of awkward jig. Jordan’s feet must have been stuck to the ground because neither my feet nor my dress got stepped on; we both remained rooted in the same spot for the entire song. My date looked like he was on a pogo stick, and if that wasn’t bad enough he was simultaneously swaying back and forth, both to a completely different rhythm from each other and the song. I tried to focus on the music, but he stared down at me with those big eyes and a nervous smile.

I recognized that look.

On the night that I realized I had no feelings for Jordan, he decided he had feelings for me; it all happened during “Our Song,” in the midst of some, might I say, daring dance moves.

I no longer get all dreamy-eyed at Taylor Swift’s catchy lyrics. Instead I can’t help but laugh, the embarrassed, gut-wrenching chuckle I wanted to let out during that unforgettable dance.

If you want to win, tell us the one song that would make you fall for someone you’d never met - if he or she put it on a mix CD. (If that’s not a setup for a Ruined Music story, I don’t know what is, but in the movies you get happier endings.)

Email ruinedmusic@gmail.com with the subject line NICK & NORAH by Tuesday, Oct. 7. Don’t forget to include your mailing address! We’ll draw two winners at random.

The irony is, I never set foot inside the bar. It wasn’t until I got what I wanted that I understood how much I didn’t want it.

The first night in our new apartment, I realized how badly I’d messed up. We sat on the floor in the living room as the blue neon of the sign with the typographical error filled the room with mournful light. We ate Taco Bell and drank beer and watched TV and wondered how we’d ended up where we’d ended up.

It was then that the soundtrack to the next two years of our lives began. Of course, I didn’t realize the significance of the moment until much later, but as I ate my bean burrito and watched television, the future began to unfold.

I’d never even heard “Ripple” before that moment. That guitar riff stuck in my head immediately. Bah da da dah. I was Pavlov’s dog, and someone in the bar downstairs kept ringing the bell, over and over and over again. For two years, they rang that goddamned bell, until they nearly drove me insane.

The people in the bar loved that song. Sometimes they would play it twenty or thirty times in a single night. Occasionally, drunk voices would filter through the cheap carpeting too, and they’d sing me to sleep.

Of course, I never really did sleep. For two years, I didn’t sleep. It got to the point where I refused to go to bed before two a.m., regardless of how early I needed to be awake for work. But even though the bar locked its doors at two, the party always went into the wee hours. I’d often sit in my bed at four or five in the morning, my eyes pleading for darkness as the sun began to shine through my bedroom window. The song would end, and a minute or two would pass, and I would close my eyes in a fit of optimism. Then, just as sleep crept into my room and laid her hand on my pillow, those four notes would jerk me back from the brink. Bah da da dah.

The Grateful Dead wasn’t the only band this bar played. Sometimes they went with Fleetwood Mac, and on rare occasions, “All I Want Is You” would creep through the floorboards. But time and time again, those same four notes drifted up into my room with the stale cigarette smoke and the drunken laughter. Bah da da dah.

I did everything to that song. I cooked dinner and drank gin to that song. I made new friends and lost a few old ones as that song played in the background. I fucked and I fought and I forgave, all to the sound of those four notes. I could never hear the words, so that simple little melody was the bond that held it all together. Bah da da dah. Eventually I gave up. It was time to move.

I live in a different city now, one where heroin addicts and sirens and gunshots are the sounds that shatter the night. I’ve learned to filter out those sounds, though. I don’t hear the cars stopping to pick up the neighborhood whores, and I don’t hear the corner boys selling their sweetness to the hundreds of customers who make up the population of my horribly addicted city. I don’t hear the drunks leaving the bars, and I don’t hear the helicopters circling overhead. I still don’t sleep right, but at least I don’t hear.

Last night a car drove by. The stereo was loud enough to cut through the brick wall of my little rowhouse. Whatever song was playing had four notes that followed a certain rhythm. Bah da da dah. I jerked up in my bed, wide awake, looking for the blue neon typo that lit up my room ten years ago. It took a long time before I realized where I was, and where I wasn’t.

The little dog who sleeps in my bed snuggled up against me and immediately fell back to sleep. I lay there for at least an hour, my eyes wide open, my muscles rigid against the soothing autumn air. The song never came, but I couldn’t sleep. I sat in the dark and waited.

1. Eternity - Lionel Richie
2. Signed Sealed Delivered - Stevie Wonder
3. Waiting On The World To Change - John Mayer
4. American Prayer - Dave Stewart
5. Battle Cry - Shontelle
6. Make It Better - Los Lonely Boys
7. Pride In The Name Of Love - John Legend
8. I Have A Dream - BeBe Winans
9. Am I All Alone - Suai
10. One Is The Magic # - Jill Scott
11. Love & Hope - Ozomatli
12. Looking East - Jackson Browne
13. Out of Our heads - Sheryl Crow
14. Promised Land - Malik Yusef with Kanye West and Adam Levine of Maroon 5
15. Hold On - Yolanda Adams
16. America The Beautiful - Keb’ Mo’
17. America - Ken Stacey
18. Wide River - Buddy Miller

I don’t have confirmation yet, but I’m pretty sure the John McCain mix CD - which should be coming out any day now - will look something like this:

1. Raisin’ McCain - John Rich
2. Raisin’ McCain - John Rich
3. Raisin’ McCain - John Rich
4. Raisin’ McCain - John Rich
5. Raisin’ McCain - John Rich
6. Raisin’ McCain - John Rich
7. Raisin’ McCain - John Rich
8. Raisin’ McCain - John Rich
9. Raisin’ McCain - John Rich
10. Raisin’ McCain - John Rich
11. Raisin’ McCain - John Rich
12. Raisin’ McCain - John Rich
13. Raisin’ McCain - John Rich
14. Raisin’ McCain - John Rich
15. Raisin’ McCain - John Rich
16. Raisin’ McCain - John Rich
17. Raisin’ McCain - John Rich
18. She’s A Hottie - Toby Keith

As the editors of Ruined Music, Bryan and I heartily endorse this idea. My friend just calls it “that sad thing I do with my iTunes sometimes,” but we decided to call it a Shuffle Scuffle – and we played it ourselves at RM HQ the other day. Here’s what happened for us; let us know what happens when you play! -Mary

RM HQ Shuffle Scuffle #1: 10 Songs Each

Bryan’s Scuffle

Mission of Burma – “Train”
I wish a better track came up, but Burma is Burma (or rather Myanmar is Burma, eh?). I love Mission of Burma. They’re one of my favorite bands, and the first time I saw them live (February 2002) was a time I’ll never forget. +2 for the only band that has ever picked up right where they left off and keeps getting better.

Deerhoof – “Chatterboxes”
What, you don’t like Deerhoof? +1 for awesomely bizarro jams.

The Lonely H – “All Hope”
My only association with this is that I remember their publicist managed to get my work email. There’s nothing weird about me getting PR emails, but these were the only ones that went to my work address and this band sort of bugged me for that reason. Their album is actually pretty good (look at that, your efforts paid off!) so I kept it on my computer, but I still feel mildly annoyed whenever I see their name. -1 for overzealous publicists.

Brian Eno – “Third Uncle”
This album was a Christmas present from Somethin’ Else, which was a record store in Brooklyn where I worked. The owner, Anthony, liked to get people gifts of music for the holidays, and it would usually be something interesting. Somethin’ Else was the kind of small neighborhood record shop that people trusted, where we’d try to find new records for each customer, dig up something they’d really appreciate or turn them on to something new. I think that’s why the regulars kept coming back. This gift followed in that principle, as it was meant to introduce me to some necessary and important music that I wasn’t familiar with. However, that means this record is closely associated with the store, which closed about a year ago. It was turned into a cream-colored showroom for a luxury condo development around the corner. There’s a lot I miss about Brooklyn, but there are some things I couldn’t have back even if I lived there again. -2 for more ugly condos in Brooklyn.

Sure Juror – “Harry Reems and the Gift of Life”
This score should be a +2, because I really like this band and a good friend of mine is in it, but this track is my least favorite on the record. It doesn’t get interesting until the last 40 seconds. -1 for shuffle totally picking the wrong song.

The Vibration – “Oh Well”
It’s not a happy song, but it’s got that perfect combination of creepy and poppy that I love. This band never fails to make me happy. +1 for creepy, poppy, sassy ladies.

Tex Penhaligon – “For Shame Of Doing Wrong”
This could go either way. I could say that this gets a negative score because I miss my friends in Brooklyn, but I’m going with the positive because I love my friends and am always happy to think of them. So, Tex Penhaligon was the alias of one of my best friends, Jared Friedman, doing a cover of the Sandy Denny song for our friend Daniella’s birthday. It was actually D who started the trend of cover albums - for my 25th birthday she secretly coordinated an album of covers of songs that I’d written, which my friends then recorded and unleashed at my birthday party. When her birthday came around, we did the same for her, and there have been more since, as it’s a become a tradition among my friends in New York. +2 for the best friends in the world.

The Shackeltons – “Madeline”
They played the After The Jump Fest this summer and were one of my favorite bands of the show! +1 for bands who cover themselves with branches, +1 for foliage abuse.

They Might Be Giants – “Particle Man”
A long time ago my friend Michael made a TMBG mix for me after I told him that I didn’t know much of their music. It was a great introduction to a band whose work I’d missed out on, and I really enjoyed a lot of it. The cover on the cd looked very professional and I was impressed by that. +2 for mix cds/primers from friends.

Wally Pleasant – “I was a Teenage Republican”
In college I dated a Republican who introduced me to Wally Pleasant’s music. I tend to keep everything, including music on my computer — that’s why, in 2004, when some friends were doing a mix cd exchange with the theme of “4 More Years of Bush” as a response to his reelection, I had this song lying around to include on mine. I’d like to think that doing so lessened the negative blow of the song, but, well, you know how well that election turned out. -2 for bipartisanship and terrorism.

TOTAL SCORE: 3/20

Mary’s Scuffle

The Wedding Present – “I’m From Further North Than You”
I went to New York a few times when I was in college; it was my first and only chance to see shows. I saw the Wedding Present then, I want to say it was at Brownie’s – someplace in the East Village that isn’t there any more. David Gedge wore a thrilling orange silk shirt and they played my then-favorite song (“Swimming Pools, Movie Stars”) at the very end of their set. I’d managed to get a spot right up front. It was amazing. Many years later, when I lived in New York and saw shows all the time, my boyfriend gave me the new Wedding Present album for Valentine’s Day. Aw, ew, etc. +2 for happy times old and new.

Jane’s Addiction – “Summertime Rolls”
Would you just leave me alone? I don’t want to talk about it. CAN’T YOU SEE I HAVE MY DOOR CLOSED? Fine, I don’t care. FINE. FINE. Leave me alone. I said I don’t want to talk about it! God MOM! You don’t GET IT! I said I want to be left alone! -1 for junior high.

Tsunami – “In a Name”
I cannot stress this enough: Jenny Toomey will always be a personal hero. +2 for Jenny Toomey.

The Monorchid – “X Marks the Spot Something Dull Happened Here”
The summer of 2004 was my first full summer in New York. That summer was heat rash, mouse infestation, a stinking sauerkraut factory across the street, smog, two jobs, insomnia, Republican protests, vague terror threats, the G train that never came, a slant-floored apartment with a shower in the kitchen, a view of a brick wall, the smell of other people’s cigarettes, a boy who wouldn’t return my phone calls, and a handful of songs. Including this one. -2 for the summer of 2004. +1 for most of these things working out for the best in the end.

New Order - “Let’s Go (Nothing for Me)”
New Order always reminds me of my friend Liz in Los Angeles. I should visit her again soon so we can go dancing and driving and drinking (none of these at the same time, obviously). +2 for the West Coast posse.

The Bangles – “Manic Monday”
Red-and-white pompoms on my rollerskates. Rainbow-striped velour pullover. Purple ribbon barrettes. I’m quite sure I was the most stylish kid at the Happy Wheels in Winslow, Maine. +1 for the last time I was the most stylish person in the room.

Sleepyhead – “I Love You the Rain”
For some reason, this was the album I turned to when I was cranky, sick and/or exhausted during my sophomore year of college. That was the year I had multiple sinus infections and a 9 a.m. statistics class. -1 for being cranky, sick and/or exhausted in Worcester.

The Secret Machines – “1,000 Seconds”
My friend Caryn, who’s an editor, let me write a story about the Secret Machines a few years ago. I was super-excited; this was when they were doing their live show in the round, and their record was in heavy rotation at my apartment. But the day of the big interview found me sick, hoarse and reeling from extra-strength cold medicine. I dropped my pen, had trouble getting my DVR to work and asked at least a few inane questions while I tried to recover my verbal capabilities from the Tylenol haze. As for the band members, they were tired from traveling and kept staring at their cell phones. The story came out okay in the end, but I felt like an idiot, especially since my friend was paying me to meet one of my favorite bands. -2 for not being on my game.

Spoon – “Car Radio”
You know what? I was going to tell a story about some Spoon-related experiences I’ve had, but forget it! Just forget it. This is a ruin-proof pop song. I just weighed a list of despairing things against that shaker that runs from 0:18 to 0:25 and again from 1:03 to 1:12 and let me tell you, it’s no match. +1 for resilience and shakers.

The Mountain Goats – “Alpha Desperation March”
To say the Mountain Goats are my favorite band would be an understatement. Like, oxygen is my favorite molecule to breathe. Food is my favorite thing to eat. Granted, not everyone feels the same way I do about J. Darnielle. I’m aware of that. I used to wish I’d wind up dating someone who could match my Mountain Goats geekery, but I never did: Bryan likes some of the later records well enough, but when I start jibjabbering about old cassettes from 1993 his eyes kinda glaze over, as well they ought to, I suppose. Anyway, I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s really smart to date someone who isn’t as obsessive about your favorite band as you are. It’s like an insurance policy. No matter what happens in my personal life, I’ll always have the Mountain Goats, and no one can take that away from me. Yeah! +2 for my Mountain Goats records being mine all mine.

TOTAL SCORE: 5/20

Bryan/RM: So do you have any songs that have been ruined?

Yoni Wolf/Why?: When I was 19, this rich girl took me to a country club swimming pool in Cincinnati, where I grew up. We had brought a boom box and were listening to some mellow jams. I was just lying there in the sun and really getting into the spirit of things, so I put on a Belle and Sebastian tape. Next thing I knew, these twin brothers who were named something like Burk and Dirk (they had gone to private school with my ladyfriend) started shooting me with super-soakers and calling me names like “cum guzzler” and “ass felch.” It was so awkward and embarrassing. I didn’t know what to do. Should I have yelled back at them? The thing was, they were well-established members of the country club and I was just a homely one-time guest.

I regret to say that in the end, I did nothing. And now whenever I walk by a softcore indie disco or a twee-lounge for the underengaged and dissatisfied, and I hear B&S on slow leak from the speakers, I die a little death of shame and humiliation for not standing up for myself and that chilled out Scottish bunch.

B: Have you ever ruined a song for someone, either personally, or maybe one of your own songs at a show, that you know of?

YW: I super-soaked my next door neighbor one time for listening to Bright Eyes on her porch, calling her names like “Chodey Foster” and “Mangelina Brolie.” I haven’t heard any music coming from her place since then. Maybe I ruined all music for her. I mean, if you can’t feel safe on your own porch pumping Conner O., what can you feel safe doing?

Why? on MySpace.

From my gig over at indecision 2008: Help Sarah Palin Find a New Theme Song!

More background via Entertainment Weekly.

If I were John McCain right now I’d be all, Screw my big speech! I’m writing an essay for Ruined Music about how Sam Brownback just ruined “Footloose” for me for EVER, thanks a lot, Sam Brownback.