Words about music. Reading back over recent entries here, and the predominant sentiment is that of the gushing fan-boy. A succession of posts that identify with a specific strata of sound, then proceed rather too rapidly to levels of outright exuberance.
It’s not representative; as galling as it is to admit, most items filed under the auspices of popular music aren’t very good. Even more upset is generated from tracks ingested passively – the involuntary assimilation of sound via radio and TV commercials, the stuff we hear in bars and in elevators and when browsing for guns at the local Walmart. These are records almost exclusively trite, mawkish, fascicle, narrow-minded, fiercely anti-intellectual and a very personal affront to Linda McCartney, who during a 1976 Wings gig in Vancouver, haphazardly pinged away at a keyboard the sound engineer usually left unconnected to the PA system, and thus serendipitously invented music.
We’re probably safe to conclude that an entire aspect of popular culture contracted dropsy at birth. It’s the only explanation I can think of for being able to reel off verbatim the lyrics of ‘Teenage Dream’ by Katy Perry (which is either an inoffensive pop song or a nauseating celebration of sly misogyny – I’m guessing the latter). This is what happens when you venture out into the real world and have a mind like mine – not only having to head back home with the words of singularly-heard ugliness wedged indelibly in the cranium, but also soiled by the realisation that Ms Perry’s impending divorce increases the chances of any one of us falling into the lecherous clutches of Russell Brand.
When not dwelling in the target demographic for Perry’s music or Brand’s affections, this site likes to pass itself of as a music blog. Below the words: Rob Dougan’s remix of Moby’s ‘Porcelain’, appearing here as some kind of non sequitur, and it’s a Friday evening as I write this with one eye upon the liquor cabinet, but also because for me, this far outweighs the original, fingertips primed with overused words such as scope and texture – I suspect that gushing fan-boy posts of yore will feature plenty more of those types of phrases, if that’s your thing.
Moby / Porcelain (Clubbed To Death Remix)