All quiet at Gutterbreakz HQ tonight...so I did something I don't often do - started reading some old posts from my own blog. How narcissistic is that?!
Came across this post, referring to my holidays last August:
"Spent quite a lot of time in a particular restaurant and became morbidly fascinated by the piped muzak constantly buzzing away in the background. The worst ones were the zombie-like assassinations of the old classics ("Light my Fire", "Hotel California", even "Alone Again Or") but some of the jazz-funk instrumentals kept gnawing away at my subconscious, ultimately drawing me into a contemplative reverie, from which I wouldn't surface until one of my kids dropped a spoon on the floor, or something. I'd find myself ruminating on the effectiveness of an electric piano line or the curious counter melody of a brass part. The best track was this faux-dub reggae thing, which featured some outrageously liberal use of echo effects -so heavy at one point, it was verging on subversive. You could tell the engineer had some fun with that one. I couldn't help wondering if I was the only person in the place actually paying attention to the muzak. Were all the other diners cheerfully ignorant of it's occasional charms? Or does my life revolve around music so much that I'll listen to anything, even worthless crap like this, when there's no other options available? I felt like a heroin addict getting by on morphine prescriptions. "
Anyone else out there so addicted to music that they actually pay attention to muzak if there's nothing else available?!
Came across this post, referring to my holidays last August:
"Spent quite a lot of time in a particular restaurant and became morbidly fascinated by the piped muzak constantly buzzing away in the background. The worst ones were the zombie-like assassinations of the old classics ("Light my Fire", "Hotel California", even "Alone Again Or") but some of the jazz-funk instrumentals kept gnawing away at my subconscious, ultimately drawing me into a contemplative reverie, from which I wouldn't surface until one of my kids dropped a spoon on the floor, or something. I'd find myself ruminating on the effectiveness of an electric piano line or the curious counter melody of a brass part. The best track was this faux-dub reggae thing, which featured some outrageously liberal use of echo effects -so heavy at one point, it was verging on subversive. You could tell the engineer had some fun with that one. I couldn't help wondering if I was the only person in the place actually paying attention to the muzak. Were all the other diners cheerfully ignorant of it's occasional charms? Or does my life revolve around music so much that I'll listen to anything, even worthless crap like this, when there's no other options available? I felt like a heroin addict getting by on morphine prescriptions. "
Anyone else out there so addicted to music that they actually pay attention to muzak if there's nothing else available?!