I was at the gym recently pummeling away at the damnable elliptical contraption when the worst thing in the world happened: the batteries in my iPod kicked out on me. I was therefore subjected to 25 dim and horrid minutes of background gym music. "Toxic," by Britney Spears, was the only song near tolerable. Yes, it was a time to sweat and think and Bear Down.

I started thinking about Top 40 radio, wondering who listened to this kind of broadly accessible music nowadays. Certainly not anyone that I know, I thought. I then started thinking: What if I could program a radio station and play my Top 40 of All Time Kick-Ass greats?

As soon as I got home, I began to occupy myself with compiling and composing criteria, important geek tasks of the highest order. An all time kick-ass song, as I defined it, was a song you have a history with: you played it after a job interview in your car and screamed at the top of your lungs. You cranked it to 11 after a final exam until the entire dormitory pounded at your door and told you to have a little respect dude, other people are still trying to study. You used it as a crutch to get you around that last quarter-mile on the track. And on and on.

I started to get into specifics, and realized only certain kinds of songs qualified. For example, some songs make me feel bad ass, but aren't necessarily all time kick-ass material, like "Still D.R.E.," by Dr. Dre. Then there are songs that are compulsive and giddy and great, like "Ma and Pa," by Fishbone, and "Let's Push Things Forward," by The Streets, but don't quite rank with the kick-ass heavyweights.

The list started to take form and shape. As I looked it over, I realized that in many ways it revealed a lot about me, as though I were letting long lost secrets, notes, and files out of my own personal Musical & Emotional Vault. That's stupid, though, I thought. But is it?