Pages

Wednesday, January 23, 2008

The Musical Fruit


The only music I have in my life is TV theme tunes and my arse after a can of baked beans, the two can be combined sometimes for 30 seconds of musical bliss ending in a crescendo of watery lumps. To appreciate that last comment more it is necessary to hear me pronounce watery in my fine Scots dialect it sounds like (wat- ter- ree) with the 'R's rolled.

I've had jobs in which there was a radio blasting away with all the radio one DJ's all day everyday . Not my choice but what can you do? Simon Bates, Steve Wright and Gary Davis, we played the music to drown out the machines as I was once a machine operator making wire fencing.
I got the job because I had extensive fencing experience but that was with swords fighting off the wogs for the Empire not machines but I had loan shark debts to pay off so I kept my gob shut for fear of having my knee-caps busted.

I worked shifts in that soul destroying factory, the only light coming through frosted glass high up near the ceiling, the shadows moving with rats the size of cats that you had to fight in order to keep yer sandwiches for yer lunch, fuck I hate rats, ever since the plague of 65 and that film 'Ben' with Michael Jackson.

I worked 6am - 2pm and 2pm - 10pm at times there was just me and a guy at the other end of the factory who fetched the bails of wire for me with the forklift. I was the machine operator I was like the star of the show.
I did receive some head trauma during that job when a large steel wheel from the wire spools fell on my head splitting it open. It was during the day when others were there and with blood pouring doon my face my fellow worker who was panicking wanted me to run to the first aid office, I told him to wise up as that would look most undignified. I've had many head wounds in my time but ya couldn't tell could ya?

Sometimes on the radio they would play concerts or sessions, that John Peel cunt tortured me no end. Now to reveal my pet hate. I hate live music, on the radio on a record or on stage .
When a famous group sings one of their best and most popular songs and they change the Rhythm , the music and words just enough that you end up looking like a dopey cunt if you try to sing to it.

Ok I get it you've been singing the same fucking songs for the last 20 years, yer bored with it and the enthusiasm has gone as yer now pushing 50 and fat as fuck. Or you don't play the hit songs because you want the crowd to hear some new crap you've done.

Musicians are like mathematicians and do their best work when they are young. Just play the song the way it is on the radio, the way everyone likes it and why they bought it.
I have happy memories bucking yer ma to that song so just play it right. No "hey!" or letting the drunks in the audience sing it, yer the singer do yer fucking job its not karaoke night.
Only very seldom is a cover as good or better than the original . Nirvanna, 'The Man Who Sold The World' that old Bowie song was just as good.

Another dislike of mine is not just the price of music, but you buy a record and get it home. Yer listening to all yer favs but there is no lyric sheet printed out and its not anywhere else on it.
These bands get millions but are not considerate enough to think about the fans that don't understand their cool slurring of the words so for the next 10 years yer singing the start of Van Morrison's 'Brown Eyed Gurl' as "Hey there amigo" instead of "Hey where did we go?"

Many bands these days can only sound good in a studio, you get them out live and they are weak and crackly like a really hot woman who is crap in bed. Sort it out music industry.


0 comments:

Post a Comment

 
© 2010 mbelonok | Blogger.com