To paraphrase the musical “Avenue Q,” the more you love someone, the more you want to kill them. The same can be said of art – specifically music. When you’re passionate about something this complex and varied, you discover that every bit of elation is offset by a degree of frustration. Hey, it’s all part of the same ball of wax, so we’re dedicating this week to all the frustrations, annoyances and venom that helps fertilize our love for music.

One of the traps inherent in popular music is its reliance on simple formulas (usually 4/4 time and, if it’s rock, probably in E or E minor – invariably tuned down a half step if you’re in Guns ‘n Roses) that allows listeners to walk an emotional tightrope offset by a 1-5-4 safety net. For better or for worse, an audience is more likely to feel safer experiencing heroin addiction through the same three or four chords the Rolling Stones’ “Dead Roses” than with “Charlie Parker on Dial Volume 1.”

But even a good artist can wear out the welcome mat and with it, the listener’s patience. And ‘lo the ’90s! The grand era when a producer could rest his Jack Daniels on the sampler’s “repeat” button for four minutes and call it a day! What a better way to kick off Hate Week at theFiver than with the:

1. “Baby, Baby,” Amy Grant (1991)
This infinitely peppy hit that signaled Grant’s crossover from gospel to mainstream pop in the early ’90s was inspired by Grant’s then-newborn daughter. It’s also responsible for the suicides of countless studio and touring keyboardists, thanks to its never-ending riff.

2. “Two Princes,” Spin Doctors (1992)
I’ll say it – yeah, I liked the Spin Doctors. Still do. Wanna make somethin’ of it? Think your post-Grateful Dead pot smokin’ hippie band’s better than mine? Well, pass that joint and we’ll settle this over a game of hacky-sack. Still, I’m a bit bummed that better songs such as “Cleopatara’s Cat,” and “How Could You Want Him (When You Know You Could Have Me)” are overshadowed by the mind-numbing effects of “Two Princes.”

3. “The Rockafella Skank,” Fatboy Slim (1998)
Ever wonder what would happen if you took a sleep-deprived British DJ loaded on X and Jägerbombs and gave him his own copy of Pro Tools? Norman Cook, aka, Fatboy Slim, doesn’t need to guess.

4. “Bittersweet Symphony,” The Verve (1997)
This song has gone through a myriad of legal twist and turns as its main riff is an endless sampling of the Andrew Oldham Orchestra recording of the Rolling Stones’ 1965 song “The Last Time.” This is an example of how music truly belongs to the listener, to the people. For art forever resides in the human heart and spirit – its true home – not in the ledgers and records of music company executives.

OK, you can stop laughing.

The Stones were eventually able to snag the song’s royalties, and the song has since been featured in advertisements for sneakers and cars, enabling Mick Jagger and Keith Richards to once again wipe their wrinkled behinds with hundred dollar bills. On a personal note, I’d like to say that both of my copies of “Bittersweet Symphony” came as gifts in the form of two separate mix CDs I got from two different friends on the same day, so I’ve never paid for the song. So, to Mr. Jagger and Mr. Richards, take note: IOU 1 back rub.

5. “Hero,” Mariah Carey (1993)
Why do I pick on Mariah so much? I’ll tell you why: MTV’s Cribs. Watch her tour of her penthouse and you’ll understand how far down our seething jealously goes. And also, in spite of her formidable vocal range, she’s not very good. Case in point, “Hero,” an awful, cloying and terribly repetitive ballad with a rhyming scheme and melody that would make one tear away the cochlear implants of the deaf if only to spare them any chance of having to hear this song. Congratulations, Mariah, why don’t you come on stage and – Kanye, NO!

“Yo, I’m gonna let you finish, but first I gotta say that Lenny Kravitz had the most repetitive songs of any artist in the ’90s!”

Wow, uh, actually, Kanye, you’ve got a good point. Perhaps no other artist of the 1990s better exemplified regurgating the same damn chords throughout a song with barely a change throughout. Thanks, for pointing that out, Kanye.

“You’re damn skippy.”

Indeed. I am, in fact, damn skippy.

Kayne’s Choice Award for Most Repetitive Artist of the 1990s: Lenny Kravitz.

From 1993’s “Are You Gonna Go My Way” to his cover of “American Woman” in 1999, Kravitz proved that you can, in fact, be born of a celebrity and still release endlessly repetitve music under the guise of being retro. There is no better example than his ultimate lather-rinse-repeat monstrosity “Fly Away” (1998). Good on ya, Lenny. Your little gold statue is in the mail.

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