If you take a look at your collection of music, I know you probably have multiple CDs by one favorite artist or band. Chances are you also have every recording one or two musical heroes have ever put out: live albums (yuck), the sudden appearance of a string section on records or vanity side projects. Do you love all of them? HAIL NO. Of course not.

It is quite impossible to adore everything someone with a decent catalog has recorded. The likelihood of some serious blunders is inevitably present. But the important question is: Who do you give a musical pass to, even when they create a turd?

We've all said, "Man, I wished I loved this new one more than I do," but out of some insane teenage-bred loyalty, we buy it hoping that with the track record of excellence, we just might like their new direction or oddly placed use of flute or boys choir.

Sometimes it's hard not to take it personally. We should love when a band ventures into unexpected territory, stretching themselves as songwriters and reinventing their sound occasionally, right?* At least that's the stance we want to have publicly as a music fan discussing albums with an open mind.

Screw that!

More often, you rip into a new disc and suddenly feel compelled to write the recording artist a personal note asking if they've gone off their meds and why hast thou forsaken me? We feel lousy that we even think that of an artist who has provided our life soundtrack.

Radiohead fans seem especially generous with each new album that's put out. They can accept that Thom Yorke wanted certain songs and the overall production to sound like the noise a vacuum cleaner makes when you accidentally pick up a lug nut and scare the cat witless. They'll spend their life defending the band's choices, and that's dandy; I think bands need fans like that, and it makes life more interesting. Everything is not for everyone. I enjoy living in that world.

My beloved Aerosmith continue to crank out records of varying quality, and I am a faithful consumer — sometimes just out of curiosity. Having purchased their latest offering one year, I was giving it a first listen in the car. I actually ejected it out of the CD player and whipped it out of the moving car window. On someone's Minneapolis lawn lies a copy of Honkin' on Bobo.

Amy Winehouse is an artist I believe I would have given a lifelong pass to. Sadly, that reinforces the legend of someone who dies young: They leave us with a flawless albeit short body of work, perhaps falsely assuring us that they would never have hooked up with the hot producer of the moment and created unlistenable dreck.

After much thought, I've come up with Spoon as my band that will receive a lifelong pass from me. The consistency of my love for this band has not disappointed, album after album. I recognize that rare ability. Many times I've said on air that if you buy a Spoon record and don't actually like more than half of it, I will buy it back from you.

So what band do you give a free pass to? I'd love to know.

*Lastly, I'm going to say something that is going to create a sh*t storm of contention; here goes nothing … When an artist has their first child, I get that it's a big deal, but maybe you should just write your kid 14 letters professing how much the experience has changed you and spare us, the listeners, a record filled with overused sentimentality and "I never knew I could love someone this much" choruses.

There. I said it.

Oddly enough, one of my favorite bands is the Breeders.

Do you love me now? Heh.