Wednesday was the day for the ‘Modern Music’ conversation.
The previous day, my lift sharer had opened the door to his 53 Peugeot estate. He is very proud of this vehicle and still considers it to be cutting edge. I accidentally knocked a bit of it off as I was getting out of the car the previous week.
The previous day, as I was about to say before the car butted in, he opened the door of his gleaming chariot and greeted me with a blast of Gerry Rafferty’s Baker Street. I like this song. I liked it then and when Foo Fighters’ did it.. The thing is that the greatest hits CD, purchased for £2.99 at Tesco, gets a little tedious after the third song. It’s like being trapped in the cheese aisle at Morrisons’ with a plague of pensioners. As I said, I like it, but I also like Dad’s army, once in a blue moon.
“The thing about modern music,” he mumbled, “is that it is so forgettable. There are no good songs about; no Top Twenty…”
He then went on to extol the virtues of Top of the Pops 1987 and T’a Pau’s China in my hand.
As he said, the thing about modern music is…