Queen, "Bohemian Rhapsody":
Yes, this is an obvious one. Thanks to Wayne's World, it will never again be safe to be in a moving vehicle when this song comes on the radio.

Lunatic Calm's "Leave You Far Behind" and Propellerheads' "Spybreak":
Both of these songs are now so indelibly linked to The Matrix that whenever I hear them, I automatically expect people to start running up walls and performing physically impossible martial arts moves. Or I think of Carrie-Anne Moss running around in PVC. Neither scenario pans out.

Underworld's "Born Slippy":
Thanks to Trainspotting, I can't hear this without thinking about dead babies crawling across the ceiling. That's creepy.

KMFDM's "Juke Joint Jezebel":
Used in at least three middling films -- Bad Boys, Species and Mortal Kombat -- the year it was released. Confined to nightclub scenes in the first two films, it was truly ruined by Kombat, in which it accompanied the spectacle of Bridgette Wilson kicking Trevor Goddard's ass. Probably wouldn't have been so bad if Cameron Diaz had done it.

Gleaming Spires' "Are You Ready for the Sex Girls":
An obscure new wave oddity, permanently spoiled by Revenge of the Nerds' vision of overweight sorority women.

Roy Orbison's "In Dreams":
It is undoubtedly a testament to the power of David Lynch's vision that to this day, I can't hear "Candy Colored Clown" without spouting lines from Blue Velvet or thinking about Dean Stockwell's disturbing harem of overweight middle-aged women.

Bow Wow Wow's "I Want Candy":
Back when I only had the record, Bow Wow Wow made me think of...well, naked girls. Something about the album cover... Then, for some hormonal reason, I saw Private School (featuring real actors Matthew Modine, Phoebe Cates and poor old Ray Walston), after which "I Want Candy" made me think of...nope, still naked girls. Now whenever I hear it I expect to see naked girls, which is almost always disappointing.

EMF's "Unbelievable":
Yes, this song is the ultimate in disposable crap. But it's harmless fun. Or at least it was until it was used in Coyote Ugly -- which, I swear on a stack of Bibles, I only saw because my wife wanted to see it. Now, on the rare occasion that I hear it, I'm reminded of that fifteen dollars I'll never get back.

The Psychedelic Furs' "Pretty in Pink":
You might argue that forever linking a song to Molly Ringwald isn't a bad thing. And the Molly Ringwald of Pretty in Pink wasn't that bad. But then she became the Molly Ringwald of For Keeps, the Molly Ringwald of Townies and, I suspect, the Molly Ringwald of the big "Will Act For Food" sign. It's just depressing.

The March Violets' "Turn to the Sky":
This continues my John Hughes tirade. At the time, I appreciated Some Kind of Wonderful because the tour that promoted it brought the March Violets -- along with the horrendous Flesh For Lulu -- to the US, giving me a chance to see them and immortalizing a so-so performance on film in the bargain. Unfortunately, it also pretty much nailed the lid on the band's coffin as well.

Juno Reactor's "Pistolero":
Instead of some nifty futuristic western, this found its way into Sugar and Spice -- admittedly a pretty entertaining cheerleader/heist film, and the song was used well, but it could have been so much more...

The Knack's "My Sharona":
Like many eighties pseudo-hits, this one's been abused plenty of times. For me, the horrendous Reality Bites was the breaking point.

The Cowboy Junkies' "Sweet Jane":
I was so fond of The Trinity Sessions during college. Now, thanks to Natural Born Killers, it makes me think of Woody Harrelson and Juliette Lewis. Ick.

Sneaker Pimps' "Six Underground":
I liked this song because of its creative use of samples from John Barry's Goldfinger score. Then it was used in The Saint, in a fairly intimate scene. Elizabeth Shue prancing around in a bra I can take, but Val Kilmer turns my stomach.

Elton John's "Tiny Dancer":
I'm not an Elton John fan by any stretch of the imagination, but I didn't mind "Tiny Dancer". Then came the "singing on the bus" sequence of Almost Famous. Now it reminds me of Mark Kozelek. Eeew.

Stereolab's "Lo Boob Oscillator":
This is a silly one. Remember that scene in High Fidelity when, seconds after "Lo Boob Oscillator" began playing, Natasha Gregson Wagner's character first asked John Cusack, "Is this Stereolab?", and replied to his acknowledgement with something along the lines of "This is great!" You know, as if the first eight seconds of a Stereolab song are the make-or-break zone? Now, whenever I hear Stereolab, I have to share this same exchange with whoever I'm with, within the first ten seconds of the song. Damn you, Hollywood.