You know, if there is a Rock-and-Roll Hell--and I'm convinced there is; a good God would not let these deeds go unpunished--if there's a Rock-and-Roll Hell, then David Gates and Bread will be consigned to the lowest depths.
Joining David Gates "of Hell" in the Bread-and-jam session will be: Mac Davis and Bobby Goldsboro (a package deal), Barry Manilow (big crescendo there, Bar), and . . . who only made bad songs? Joni Mitchell/Carole King (who are really the same person)?
It's tough, because even some of the worst singers/groups made at least one song I liked: Seals and Crofts, "Closer to You, Closer to Me" (or vice versa); America, "Sister Goldenhair Surprise" (OK, you may disagree with me on that one). But you see my point.
And so the only reason Neil Diamond gets off easy with only a few thousand years in Rock-and-Roll Purgatory is because for about his first two-three years (1966-68), he did make some rather catchy songs. That was before those hot August nights of songs sung blue with Cracklin' Rosie and Sweet Caroline in Brother Love's Travelin' Salvation Show.
I can't believe you let Air Supply slide. Each member of that "band" should be consigned to forever ride an elevator from infinite floor to infinite floor, with the doors never opening, having to listen to their own "music" all the while. Lock a flatulent operator in there with them as well.