Australian Pink Floyd

It's late, and I should be settling down to sleep. However, if I can take the time to visit Ocado and beg a load of shopping for tomorrow evening, I think I can spend a moment or two and tell you about my evening.

I think it's somewhat obvious from the title that I went to see Australian Pink Floyd this evening. Being the skint sort of person I am, I've seen many a tribute band in my time, from the not-terribly-good Tina Turner tribute I saw at the Picnic in the Park (no, not Hyde Park, George V playing fields) to The Counterfeit Stones and The Backbeat Beatles, seen at the very same venue, both of whom are pretty good. Actually, I've seen that Beatles tribute band more times than I care to say!

And then there's Australian Pink Floyd (or Aussie Floyd, as they seem to be known). I'd heard good things from my brother when he went to see them last year, but let's face it, he enjoyed our trip to see Jethro Tull, and I wont lie - it was pants. Turns out I don't actually like JT, despite a couple of really rather good tracks. So it was with no small trepidation, along with a certain amount of delicious anticipation, I went to Hammersmith this evening to watch Aussie Floyd at the Apollo. I was confused, because I've been to this venue before, but it was called The Odeon in those days.

I'm thrilled to be able to tell you that the show was truly awesome! It has also taken first place in the "Loudest Show Sian's been to see" competition, beating the clamorous Kaiser Chiefs into second place.

I very much suspect that I was predisposed to enjoy the show because the opening track was "Shine on you Crazy Diamond", which is at the beginning of my favourite album. I sort of hoped they'd finish the set with part 2, but it wasn't to be. The second track was "Welcome to the Machine", another from Wish You Were Here, just before they played the title track, which is, just possibly, my favourite Floyd track of all.

After that, probably because I didn't recognise any of the tracks up to the interval, I wasn't quite so enthralled, but in spite of the noise, I enjoyed listening to something new.

After the interval came the 3D show! Yep, every seat was provided with a pair of 3D specs, and there were some crazy 3D projections shown for us. A gimmick, but it was quite fun for all that. And I was pleased to find that I was recognising many of the songs, which helped.

It's funny; the first time I remember hearing the track Comfortably Numb was actually a cover performed by Scissor Sisters, which is VERY different from the way Aussie Floyd perform it - natch! I like both versions, but I suspect that if pressed, I'd have to admit to liking the Scissor Sisters version a little better!

I will, at this point, make a comment on the audience. I don't think I will ever forget the time I went to see the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra performing something at Basingstoke. We'd taken our seats, the performance had started, and all was quiet - until a woman with high, clicky heels clopped her way out to visit (one presumes) the ladies. I was close enough to the stage to see the look of disgust and anger directed at heel woman by the conductor when she stomped her way back to her seat during a particularly quiet part. That conductor would probably have exploded with annoyance at the constant stream of traffic moving to and from the seats during the show. Let's face it, though, no one would have heard a herd of elephants stomping through, it was so loud.

I think I can give the show a cheerful thumbs up, and say that I'd make efforts to see Aussie Floyd again next time they're in town.

Crappy Music

13 year olds and their music tastes
Can you remember to what you were listening when you were 13? I suspect, in my case, it was Donny/Jimmy Osmond. Now there's no one on the face of this planet who can view me without a look of sympathetic revulsion for this heinous confession.

So when I listened to Rebecca Black's song, Friday, last week (on Friday, as it happens), my initial impulse was to pull off my ears, and gouge out my eyes. It's a truly horrible, repetitive piece of crappy pop that should be consigned to the dustbin of the music industry. It may have been something I'd have enjoyed, or maybe just not hated, when I was 13, but it's, thankfully, unmemorable.

However, and this is where I have to apologise to the girl. I just found out that she's 13. Yep, 13. The writer/singer of this ghastly tune is only 13. Now, for all that the song is a boil on the buttocks of the music world, please tell me what YOU were producing when you were 13? If you're anything like me, you can hang your head in shame and say, "Well, um, nuffink..."

Sure, we've all seen the 11 year old boy (although there's some confusion as to whether he was 11, 12 or 13) who covered Lady Gaga's Paparazzi. That kid's good! But he didn't write it. Mind you, if you subscribe to his channel on YouTube, you'll see some of his own work. He's undeniably talented.

And there are others of a similar age, creating their own works, covering others, and uploading the results onto YouTube for our delight. Or in Rebecca's case, vilification.

So here's my apology to Rebecca Black - sorry mate. And I'm really not being patronising when I say, "Of course that's the sort of song you're going to be writing!" After all, what are most 13 year olds listening to? I'm looking forward to seeing you grow in maturity, and seeing more of your stuff on YouTube. As long as you don't mind when I gag a little and decide I can't actually finish listening/watching. The fact that you're doing anything at all which is productive is fantastic, given that kids are, at this age, consumers first. Very few of them have the drive, let alone the talent, to create anything worthwhile when they're 13. Actually, very few of them have the drive/ability to create anything at all!

Now Music!
I'm going to continue on the musical theme, inspired by an open directory (don't ask) I found, filled with a number of the "Now That's What I Call Music..." albums. I believe the albums were number 20 onwards, but I can't remember, and I'm not going back in there to look!

What struck me, though, was that there wasn't a single track I wanted to download. I'd assumed, not being a "Now That's What I Call Music" fan, that the tracks on these albums would reflect the most popular tracks at the time. In actuality, they seem to represent the pop music of the time, in all its glory (or not, as the case seems to be).

I enjoyed looking through the lists of tracks, wondering when I'd find something I actually liked, remembering that I'd listened to much of this music, but I'd forgotten how much of it was lame/crap/unmemorable. I much prefer to listen to "Best of 80s Pop!" style albums, where the really good songs are distilled into one place.

That said, it's astonishing how the "Now That's What I Call Music" albums managed to contain so very many of the lame-ass songs, seeming to deliberately eschew the ones to which we listen now.