Isaac Hayes in New York City in 1972. Photo by Anthony Barboza/Getty Images.

You ever wonder what horrors are ensconced in Donald Trump’s personal playlist?

That’s a trick question. I seriously doubt he understands what a playlist is. It’s not even his rapidly-advancing age. He almost certainly doesn’t understand what a mixed tape is either, unless it’s full of various versions of “I’m a Loser” he sent to people to gloat over various perceived victories.

Kid Rock, you say? Ted Nugent? Kanye West? Watered-down new country music? No. They may support him because they all hate the same people, but most of the music isn’t in very good taste, which certainly lines up with what we know about The Donald. But people (some) still derive pleasure from it. Trump’s pleasure receptors burned out long before he could get to any of that.

Pat Boone? Maybe …

Music brings joy to normal earthlings and I think explaining joy to a creature who only finds satisfaction in golden toilet seats, buildings topped with his name and crushing the souls of his enemies wouldn’t compute.

Most of us wouldn’t think of Trump’s musical taste if not the recent culturally critical hubbub over what his minions decide to play at his public appearances.

I mean, we’ve seen his violently cringeworthy reaction to music, something coordinated people call “dancing.” Trump’s idea of “dancing” looks like someone wrapped a full meat bag in a suit, strung it up, then hit it with repeated electrical shocks powerful enough to stun a hippo.

Yet he still “dances,” and his rhythmically and morally challenged followers still love him for it. That and everything else he does, doesn’t, or simply can’t do (empathy, make policy, string together sentences, etc.).

Every political season we get the stories of candidates pissing off musical artists over playing their music at rallies. Though this year is noteworthy for a couple reasons:

First is the sheer number of artists screaming about it. We’ve heard from Abba, Jack White, Beyonce, Celine Dion, the Foo Fighters (who cleverly take their royalties from Trump using “My Hero” and donate them to the Kamala Harris campaign).

They join current and previous screamers, including Neil Young, Aerosmith (well, at least Steven Tyler; there are a couple serious Republicans in that band), Bruce Springsteen, Rihanna, Pharrell, John Fogerty, Neil Young,  R.E.M., Guns N’ Roses, Eddy Grant, Panic! at the Disco …

Eddy Grant? I’d think he’d need the money …

Even dead people don’t want Trump using their music, including Tom Petty, Prince and Leonard Cohen. The English don’t like it either, including the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, Phil Collins, Johnny Marr and Adele.

The most prominent pissed-off dead guy now is Isaac Hayes, whose estate this week convinced an Atlanta judge to stop Trump and his orcs from using Hayes’ “Hold On, I’m Coming” (by Sam and Dave, but co-written by Hayes) while Hayes’ family sues Trump over its use at rallies.

The Trump people complied …  probably because they’ve run out of lawyers.

I’m not a lawyer (I’m barely a journalist) but the suit likely won’t get far. Artists rarely have full control over where, when and how their music is played. The most prevalent performing rights organizations representing recorded music — ASCAP and BMI — require political campaigns to obtain licenses that allow them to use bug chunks of their catalogs. While counting all those piles of money, I don’t think anyone is asking the people who actually made the music whether it’s OK by them.

Like Glenn Frey said on the Eagles’ last nine reunion tours: “You’re paying, so we’re playing.”

But that doesn’t mean musicians shouldn’t raise holy hell about what kind of politics with which they’re being associated.

Metal aficionado Eddie Trunk tweeted last week: “I don’t care where you stand politically, but this nonstop ‘you can’t use my music’ is ridiculous and for optics. As long as you pay the royalties to my knowledge you can’t stop a public event from playing a song. If artists are really serious about this pull it off ASCAP or BMI like Burton Cummings did. Won’t happen because that’s a real money hit.”

Well, no. It’s not ridiculous at all. I love people who say people don’t have a right to be pissed about things because of the rules and whatnot. “Oh, well there’s rules. Never mind.”

Yeah, it’s for optics. They’s rather get publicity for shaking a fist in the face of fascism then cozying up to a guy who exchanges love notes with murderous dictators.

Mr. Trunk either doesn’t care about politics — and why would he, when there’s a Dokken reunion tour happening somewhere in the Midwest (that’s a guess). Or he’s never written a song.

I’ve written songs. Not good ones, but I have. And if I heard Trump playing the Cheater (my high school band) classic “Pajama Party,” at a campaign rally (it could happen) …  I’d get pretty darned upset.

Artists have every right to get pissed. They should. Their creative work is being associated with the most negative political force this country has seen since in generations. Or maybe they just don’t want to be associated with politics and the people who practice them. Completely understandable.

The majority of them understand they can’t do much about it. But they at least have to look like they care. Not caring enough could get this country in all kinds of trouble come Election Day.