The Scene: A restaurant, where the "background music" is very much not in the background, and questionably musical.
She: Even if I knew enough to appreciate the music, even if I could understand the words and not be appalled by them, I still couldn't stand the driving drum beat. I just don't get the attraction of all that relentless pounding.
He: It's sexual.
She: You're kidding.
He: That's what they say.
She: Well, they must be right, because it gives me a headache.