Then there is the Air Bud soundtrack entry. Yes. Air Bud . The movie about a basketball-playing golden retriever. Somehow, a love ballad from that film—likely titled something like "Kicking & Screaming"—is on this record. This album argues, convincingly, that the love between a boy and his dog is indistinguishable from the love between a prince and a princess. What makes Love Hits so deeply melancholic in retrospect is what it doesn't have.
On the surface, it’s just a budget compilation. But to those who owned it—likely purchased from the clamshell CD rack at a Wal-Mart or a Disney Store—it was the first secular gospel of heartbreak and puppy love. Let’s be honest: 1998 was a weird transition year. The Disney Renaissance was winding down ( Mulan had just dropped "I'll Make a Man Out of You," but the romance was secondary). The "Disney Afternoon" era was dead. In its place came a push for live-action teen romance.
Love Hits wasn’t just an album; it was a Trojan horse. It tricked parents into buying a "safe" Disney record while exposing their 10-year-olds to the anxieties of adult contemporary love.