Can't Talk, Won't Talk
Entry posted by caldrail
395 views
The other day I was chatting to a colleague about popular music. In my youth music was scarce, hard to come by, and watching Top Of The Pops on a thursday night was an event to be savoured even with Noel Edmunds introducing the evenings mime actors. If one of your mates bought an album, a fragile twelve inch disc of black plastic, we all converged for that all important first listen. We all sat around admiring the artwork of the cover, wondering who all these names were on the credits, or discussing when we too would be releasing our very own record.
Now you get music everywhere. Delivered electronically to your latest gizmo for entertainment for the busy lifestyles of the modern day. As much as music has improved in quality over the years I can't help feeling that so much of this garbage we download is... well... garbage. All you need is a steady thump and a wierd chorus and success will be yours. You think I'm joking?
Take one of the latest offerings. "I got the moves like Jagger" the singer repeats a few times before his vocal chords are warped beyond human performance by the technological boxes that enslave creativity. The thing is though, the odd sound is no more than a gimmick. So desperate are the producers to make this song stand out that they've resorted to idiot melodies that no-one could sing without admitting to having extraterrestrial parents. The listener simply has to put up with psychological trauma.
What's worse is the message of the song. That's about slavery too. Apparently the singer believes that behaving like Mick Jagger will make him a sexual tyrannosaurus, bringing helpless females to point of orgasm, totally reduced to abject obedience in the face of an imminent bonk. It is in fact arrogant sexist tripe, but then, what do you expect with nightclubs? No wonder the song's been doing well in the charts.
That said, pubs and clubs aren't doing so well these days. Those that put on live acts appear to be doing better. Those that play recorded music seem to shutting up shop faster than european banks. Is that a coincidence, I ask myself?
I chuckle as I switch on the television. In a way I consider myself lucky to have experienced popular music in the good old days. As it happens a channel is running repeats of Top Of The Pops from the seventies. With a sudden urge to savour the nostalgia of my youth, I sit back and watch Noel Edmunds telling us which mime act is on next. You know what? They say you should never revisit the places of your youth. Good grief - I never realised what a complete load of rubbish we were listening to....
Little Burdens
We were expecting a party of 'special needs' children at the museum and they arived pretty much as expected. Unless you meet these children and see for yourself, the phrase 'special needs' doesn't mean anything. Most were what you'd expect, hyperactive kids with no attention span whatsoever. Others had different afflications, such as one youngster who seemed unable to interact with anyone or anything unless it was a vehicle, real or toy. It saddened me. It also left me with no shortage of respect for the patience of the teachers who shepherded these kids around our hallowed halls.
For some reason our events manager decided that I would introduce the museum and recite the instructions for safe enjoyable visits. To tell the truth I wasn't in the mood for that, still less after the events manager put me on the spot. What made it worse was that he wouldn't shut up. By the time he'd finished talking, everything had been pretty much said. I think I uttered one sentence to complete my duty.
After a short silence one lady asked "Can we go in now?"
Oh yes. Please do.
2 Comments
Recommended Comments