Music

Music was my first love. And it will be my last*.  Music is such a big part of my life that a single blog entry just won't do.  I will keep revisiting music as this blog progresses, but I already have mental place-holders for future posts to cover the impact that The Beatles, Bowie, prog and the Pet Shop Boys have had in my life. This post will have to serve as an overview.

I have excellent taste in music. You may feel that the Red Hot Chili Peppers are a fine rock band, but you're wrong, they're crap. You may feel that Tom Waits encapsulates the spirit of American music, but you're wrong again.  He's a charlatan who, if you're honest with yourself, makes turgid growlings that no right-thinking person could enjoy.  And you may believe that Lady GaGa is not fit to wipe the shoes of Bob Dylan, but, yet again, you'd be wrong.  In years to come there will be national holidays for Lady GaGa, when all Dylan will be remembered for is his Christmas Album. 

I'm joking, of course. I do have excellent taste in music (and a 'catholic' taste in music according to my wife), but these are just my opinions on artists who really don't float my boat. One of the rules I apply to music is that there is no 'good' or 'bad' music, just music I do or don't like.  The fact that I don't like the RHCPs doesn't mean they're bad, just that they're not for me (they have a huge global following, so someone must think they're good).  This woolly, liberal view is something that was triggered by Danny Baker.  Before he became the radio superstar we know today, Danny wrote for the NME in the 70s and, in particular, the NME Singles column.  I shared Danny's love of prog, but I also enjoyed pop music and disco.  I kept this very quiet from my long-haired mates who would proudly take their Budgie albums to school to show off.  One of Danny's Singles columns waxed lyrical about the latest Village People single (Macho Man, I think), a track I thought was the dog’s bollocks. I can't remember what he wrote exactly, but the tenor of his review was that this is pop music; it's not great art, but it sounds fantastic, so get over it. I felt that I had been given a green light to enjoy anything and everything. 

Since I can remember, music has become a drug for me.  I'm always searching for that same hit that I got when I saw The Beatles as a child on Saturday teatime television.  The 70s were my musical heyday. Glam, prog, punk, reggae, soul, disco were all genres I dived into at the deep end, usually emerging excited, invigorated and craving more.  In the past 20 years, however, there has little to make me feel the same way.  I have come to realise that as we get older, the 'new' music we hear is usually something we've heard before and when we're young it genuinely is new.  I’ve become a bit jaded about new music, but I firmly believe that musical discovery should be a priority in every young person’s life.  I can’t see it, but I hope to God that today’s teenagers are getting the same thrill listening to The Wanted or Rizzle Kicks that I got listening to David Bowie in my teens.

While I've been waiting for the next big musical buzz to come along, my tastes have moved away from popular music to classical, particularly modern classical and early choral music. In addition, I've developed a love of electronica and ambient music. I'm also a big fan of dance music (Progressive House is a favourite).  I know that all this stuff tickles the same brain cells in my head that were previously allocated to prog, but I don't care.  I'll keep searching for the next popular musical hit and until it comes along the genius of Arvo Pärt, Jóhann Jóhannsson and Harold Budd will keep me company. 


*EDIT.  May not be actually true.  My wife has asked me to point out that, whilst the Hey Jude Hitmakers may have been my first love, she will be my last.