Categories: uncategorized
Date: 26 September 2007 22:34:51
Well, Spike is currently watching something called 'Help Me, I'm Infested with Anthea Turner' on the televisual box, but earlier this evening (and yesterday evening, and it's on again tomorrow), we have both been enjoying a countdown of the 100 most annoying songs ever. Particularly good is that it's on the BBC, so you don't get an advert break every ten minutes like you do with the Top 100s they're always showing on other channels. There are some marvellous songs we really love to hate, and then there are ones we actually liked, but they just got overplayed, like 'Mmmm Mmmm Mmmm Mmmm' (not sure I got the right number of Ms there) by Crash Test Dummies and 'I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor' by the Arctic Monkeys. The track that really got me shouting 'Noooo!' at its inclusion in the annoying songs list, however, was 'Sit Down' by James. Ah, anthem of my sixth-form days. And no, I didn't have one of those t-shirts with 'ja' on the front, 'm' on the sleeve and 'es' on the back, but I kind of wished I had. I have to say, I remember my late teens with great affection, and might go into some of the more thoughtful reasons why at some point. But for now, let's just say, 'Mmm, ankle-length black fringed skirt, purple paisley shirt, black eyeliner and dangly silver earrings'. And I can still remember most of the words to 'John Kettley is a Weatherman'.
So, onto the Music of Young People Today. Our office environment has become more 'informal' (I won't say relaxed, and I won't get into a rant about why I won't say relaxed) lately (hurrah for wearing jeans to work nearly every day, except it makes Jeans for Genes day a bit boring). Much of the time, we have the radio on. The channel, however, is selected by my colleagues. After brief flirtations with Capital (not great, but not to be confused with the truly gah-mongous Capital Gold), Heart and cheese-fest Magic, we have settled on Radio 1, which isn't as bad as I'd feared it would be. You do, however, hear certain songs far more often than you'd like, including those ones you'd almost prefer never to have heard, except for the rant value. So,
A note to whoever did that song that goes 'You're waaaay toooo beauuutifuuul giiirrll' with a clothes peg on his nose: Firstly, being 'suicidal' is a serious, dangerous psychological condition, it's not just when you're gutted 'cos your laydee dumped you. Second, vocoders are so very 90s.
And a note to Lily Allen re the cover of 'Don't Get Me Wrong'. Just - why? See, fing is like, your 'I'm from Landan, me, and singin like dis dint do ma dad's creer any harm, innit' style is quite sweet on your own songs, but whoever produced the Pretenders cover has left things exactly how they were on the original, so the only distinction is that Chrissie Hynde has a great big voice, and you, er, don't.
Bitching nearly over, Spike bought me a new phone for my birthday, and it's got a radio on it. A socially-responsible radio, which you can only listen to with headphones. So I thought I'd listen to it at w*rk when I'm on the late shift, and everyone has gone home and I can turn off the office radio, and listen to my choice of station without messing about re-tuning it. So I fiddled about with my phone, and have managed to programme in my personal Stations of Happiness. Thus we have 1) Radio 4, 2) Radio 2, 3) Virgin and 4) XFM. Middle-aged fart, me? Well, um, yes. But I'll leave you with a few great lyrics of yesteryear:
Those who feel the breath of sadness, sit down next to me.
Those who find they're touched by madness, sit down next to me.
Those who find themselves ridiculous, sit down next to me.
In love, in fear, in hate, in tears, in love, in fear, in hate, in tears, sit down.
And so is Wincey Willis.