Monday, October 09, 2006

The Persistance Of Schlock; or Earworms to Regret

I was listening to the "Adult Contemporary" (pronounced "Boomer fogey") radio station yesterday, and they were playing a selection of acoustic music--for those of us who refuse to be old, but don't really want to hear The Offspring on a Sunday morning. When I tuned in, Lyle Lovett was just winding up a tune that I didn't recognize, but was unmistakeably his.

But, going from the sublime to the ridiculous, it was immediately followed by the old Harry Chapin warhorse "Cat's in the Cradle." You remember that piece of crap, don't you? About the guy who is always too busy to spend time with his boy, until his boy grows up and becomes too busy to spend time with his dad. Pretentious. Obvious. Like sticking your head into a garbage can and having somebody come by and hit it with a baseball bat: There Is A Message!

I couldn't believe that someone actually found that piece of regrettable "music" and actually broadcast it--now. In 2006! I thought there was a statute of limitations on something that trite.

Apparently not. The Pony came home the other day, complaining about a couple of her friends singing "One Tin Solder." Oh. My. God. If there is not a statute of limitations on that, there should at least be a freshness date on crap that old. Anyone old enough to have heard that before SHOULD NOT have to be reminded of it again.

As a public service, I will refresh your memory:

Listen children to a story/ That was written long ago /'Bout a kingdom on a mountain/ And the valley far below. On the mountain was a treasure/ Buried deep beneath the stone/ And the valley people swore/ They'd have it for their very own.

[Chorus] Go ahead and hate your neighbor/ Go ahead and cheat a friend. Do it in the name of Heaven/ You can justify it in the end. There won't be any trumpets blowing/ Come the Judgement Day/ On the bloody morning afterrrr-er-er/ One tin soldier rides away.

Okay, that was painful. Worse than that, it stuck in my head after Pony told me about it. That's what makes it an earworm--it gets into your ear and you can't get rid of it. Hard to say which is worse--the Tin Solder or the Cat's Cradle.

What is the matter with musicians today--can't they write their own crap, so we don't have to listen to the old crap? I want fresh, new crap--the freshest crap you can find! That stuff, I can ignore!

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