Music

I know that Richard(of RBB) thinks that I'm an old reactionary when it comes to my taste in music.

I actually managed to hide his guitar last week when he was going to play our bloody school Karakia as an introduction to our usual Wednesday morning torture session called "Professional Development".  I know it's not his fault.  He has been told to play, to accompany the 'Dedicated singing of the dedicated teachers at Nuova Lazio High School in their morning paean to the f*cking non-existent spirits/gods of our Maori colleagues.

I don't believe in any Gods, gods, spirits, ghosts, invisible beings of any type, so I don't sing.  I stand mute.  All the staff know of my attitide.

I'm not demonstrating against the palaeolithic culture of our Maori, just making a stand against any sort of spiritualism.

Knowing that Richard(of RBB) is also a rabid atheist, I'm surprised that he even allows himself to play the bloody music, but he does.

It's Okay, Richard (of RBB), I forgive you.  After all, as the Germans said in 1945, Befehl ist Befehl.

But I do like music.

Growing up in Scotland in the 50s (20th century, I'm not that bloody old) I was introduced to the music my Mum and Dad liked.

We were a working class family.  My Dad was a cop in Glasgow, my Mum was a nurse, then a school secretary.  We had TV, a radio and a basic record player.

The good old Dansette, I think every home in the UK had one in the 50/60s

Our music was the nostalgic type.  The Black and White Minstrel Show was required viewing every week.  (Let the PC police sort that lot out.  Caucasians, in black-face, singing songs of the 30s.)

We just didn't know any better.

Mum and Dad used to play their kind of songs.  South Pacific.  And Nelson Eddy.

I now live within easy travelling distance to Tahiti, but SWMBO won't let me go ... sob

Then the Beatles began to become well-known. 

My first ever record purchase was a Parlophone 45rpm of "She Loves You" and my second was a copy of  Freddie and the Dreamers playing "If You Gotta Make A Fool of Somebody"

I cannot express the direness of those songs.  They were truly awful, and I cannot even listen to them now.

What a dick

Most modern music leaves me cold, but there are exceptions.

One is a song that I want played at my funeral.  I know I won't be there at all, in any form, but I want my old friends and relatives to remember me, so I'll make them cry.

It's Hallelujah, written by the late Leonard Cohen, and played beautifully by the late Jeff Buckley.
There are many  versions of this song, but I find this one the most emotive.

Enjoy.