The Beatles "Rubber Soul" [1965]

Even before "Sgt Pepper's" and all their ridiculously self-aware and spaced-out crap that followed (turning "rock star" into a decidedly negative term in the process), the Beatles -- especially John Lennon -- were already busy poisoning the well of 60s American society as early as "Rubber Soul," the frumpy-covered sour grapes lament that marked the band's descent from popping pre-gig uppers to smoking weed in their pretentious English country estates. Not that American culture didn't deserve to be taken down a peg, but the only reason these limeys got to do it was because they'd already suckered everyone into buying their "lovable mop-top" schtick. What a way to stab Ed Sullivan in the back! As for Paul McCartney, his main crime here is as an obsessive overdubbing creep and showoff, taxing George Martin clearly well past his capabilities, to say nothing of that poor four-track. Basically, had Beatlemaniacs not been so hysterical and greedy in their determination to grab a piece of these guys' hides, the band wouldn't have been allowed to sit back with all this extra time on their hands to preciously craft their overtly sappy harmonies like so many pieces of dollhouse furniture. Nor would Lennon have so completely been able to concoct his mean-spirited selfishness into an actual musical identity... that is, before he told us we all need to love each other. Psshhh -- what a frickin' phony.