Today is the 11th anniversary of the September 11 attacks, a moment in American history that was pretty horrifying for reasons that have been enumerated countless times. Their effects on pop music weren't as tragic, to be sure, but they were pretty unfortunate—artists on both sides of the aisle manned their battlestations and put forth musical invective and sloganeering pap that diminished everyone involved, and turned the radio into a potential lightning rod for angry disagreements about the state of American politics. Even Aaron Carter got into the fray, which probably gives you an idea of how dire things got. Our nine picks for the most offensive pieces of music brought forth by the attacks below.

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Today is the 11th anniversary of the September 11 attacks, a moment in American history that was pretty horrifying for reasons that have been enumerated countless times. Their effects on pop music weren't as tragic, to be sure, but they were pretty unfortunate—artists on both sides of the aisle manned their battlestations and put forth musical invective and sloganeering pap that diminished everyone involved, and turned the radio into a potential lightning rod for angry disagreements about the state of American politics. Even Aaron Carter got into the fray, which probably gives you an idea of how dire things got. Our nine picks for the most offensive pieces of music brought forth by the attacks below.

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F2K has been a countdown of the 50 worst songs of the decade. Relive the whole long journey here. Thank you, and we're sorry.

As a concession to a vile, contemptible decade marked by commerce over reason, we pleaded to our editors at the Village Voice to let us publish the No. 1 entry as one of those annoying listicles that's also a photo gallery that you have to click through over and over again--but they refused. (Good thing we're not getting paid by the pageview.) But if there's one thing we learned this decade, it's that the people still love lists--so let's put forth our reasons for deciding that the 2002 cover of Joni Mitchell's "Big Yellow Taxi" by Counting Crows and Vanessa Carlton is the worst song to come out of a decade filled with some of the most despicable examples of music inflicted on the world's hearing persons.

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F2K is a countdown of the 50 worst songs of the decade. Track our progress here.

Super lame songs by charity "supergroups" have been the most expensive form of self-parody ever since Bob Geldof scribbled the word "Do" in "Do They Know It's Christmas." Since its mid-'80s "We Are The World... Again" heyday, this blustery tradition has been the target of like a dozen Saturday Night Live sketches and at least two winky-winky parody all-"star" indie rock viral events, in 2005 and 2009. So yeah, it's almost hack of me to bag on these cornball Artists Against Obscurity clusterfucks. Fortunately the expiration date on bagging on Fred Durst still has a couple of months left.

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F2K is a countdown of the 50 worst songs of the decade. Track our progress here.

In which the poster girl for MySpace's musical efforts asks the timeless question, "And who the fuck is this bitch on your page, with her big-ass tits up on your top eight?"

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F2K is a countdown of the 50 worst songs of the decade. Track our progress here.

As in "Blue October, I want to fucking strangle you with this jump rope right now."

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F2K is a countdown of the 50 worst songs of the decade. Track our progress here.

Watch out, 'cause here they come... and it would seem that they're kinda horny.

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F2K is a countdown of the 50 worst songs of the decade. Track our progress here.

The song speaks for it itself. If giant, raging purple erections in cargo shorts could speak.

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F2K is a countdown of the 50 worst songs of the decade. Track our progress here.

In which the lead Pussycat Doll does her best Georgia O'Keefe impersonation, and nobody notices.

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F2K is a countdown of the 50 worst songs of the decade. Track our progress here.

America: A Tribute To Heroes was a true television feat--put together merely 10 days after the 9-11 attacks, presented without commercials on over 35 channels, raising millions of dollars for the families of WTC victims, and showcasing some of America's most famous musicians at their most powerful, evocative and vulnerable. Bruce Springsteen, lit by candlelight, singing a chilling, nearly-in-tears version of "My City Of Ruins" is probably the last great music moment we shared together as a nation before we all started absorbing "great music moments" a day late on grainy YouTube clips. It was a truly amazing, inspiring event that instilled hope in both America and American music. My gratitude and appreciation goes out to the organizers.

I just want to make one minor point.

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