Is that the way it feels for you, 'cause that's the way it feels for me

The older gentleman in the background can actually see what Ike's thinking about.

I have this friend, right. Just for the sake of storytelling, let's call him "Ike."
Occasionally, and much to his friends' collective amusement, Ike will admit openly to some of his musical-related guilty pleasures--the stuff of this world that he knows to be widely accepted as garbage, yet somehow he loves it anyway. 
Late-period Rush, for example.
Now, a modicum of shame prevents me from running out and telling the world that I'm okay with all of the Rush albums up to Power Windows, and seriously, that's pushing it (I'm sort of ashamed that I can even call up the name of a Rush record so late). But Ike, he'll readily proclaim the merits of Roll the Bones.
Did you hear me? I said ROLL THE BONES. That's the one where Rush raps.

And as much as I detest the mere existence of that album, I have to admit ... I love that Ike digs it. It doesn't make the record any better, but I no longer feel the urge to DeLorean myself back to '91 in an effort to prevent that stain on earth from happening. I wouldn't take it away from Ike. He needs it.

Anyway, I've been thinking about guilty pleasures. And I've got a doosey.
Today, I was thinking about some of the old punk shows I saw at the original 9:30, and then I started thinking about the not-at-all-punk shows I saw there, too.
I saw Poi Dog Pondering. It's true.
I saw Peter Murphy (solo). Yep. That happened.
I saw Third Bass. What's up, Serch? 

And one time I saw this band (that I swear no one remembers) called The Pursuit of Happiness.

If you try to listen to their record, Love Junk, in its entirety, you will hate me. 
You will. 
If you had inkling of respect for me and my opinions on music, all of it will whither and die on the spot. Moreover, if you attempt to watch a video by this band, you will probably murder me. The only video I've ever seen by them was embarrassing to the level of Billy Squire's "Rock Me Tonite." (Alright, maybe not that bad, but close enough.)

Yet, tonight (properly spelled) I listened to "Ten Fingers" by The Pursuit of Happiness and thought, Man, this is my jam.
The lyrics are awful. Simply AWFUL. So corny. IMMEDIATELY CORNY. And those vocals are way up front. No hidin' them things.

So what is it about a guilty pleasure? If this was on the radio and I was in a car all by myself, what is it about this song (a song I know to be absurd and terrible) that would compel me to turn the volume all the way up?

I think it's the backing vocals. It's gotta be the backing vocals.

If Ike can admit to "Roll the Bones," I suppose I can be brave too. 
I'll go ahead and claim "Ten Fingers."

Let the ridicule begin. I deserve it.