Quote:
Originally Posted by RickyMaveety
Ah, well, then as long as it is "Graceland" or "So" ... we CAN be in the same room listening to music without one of us gagging!!
Isn't progress wonderful??
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"Progress"? I prefer the term "serendipity" - it has a much friendlier and fateful ring to it.
Oh, my, I've not had that one before! I am most tickled (as you will see if you glance left and aboard my avatar). Thank-you.
I assume when you referred to "gagging" you were mostly referring to Sugarhill Gang's
Rapper's Delight (I am only going on the low probability that you have heard John Butler Trio's
Get Funky Tonight)?
I, of course, cannot fault you on that. I somewhat expect it of many folk, and I expect it not in a condescending way but in an acknowledgement that my pleasure in all things can often extend to the superficially Dionysian.
You see, in music (amongst other things), while my tastes do extend to the despairingly angry rants of The The's
The Mercy Beat or the heady tones of Kate Bush's
Running Up That Hill amidst everything else, usually lyrical, that strikes the right notes (or, more likely, beat, since percussion shakes my cockles), if I want to "get funky tonight", then closing all the blinds and dancing alone in my room in my arrhythmic and uncoordinated Natalie Imbruglia-fashion to George Michael's
Freedom 90 or howling along to Robbie Williams' tongue-planted-so-incredibly-far-in-his-cheek-it's-surprising-he-doesn't-have-two-mouths-to-feed
Let Me Entertain You or filing photos to the funky beat of
Get Funky Tonight or the bum-wiggling bass of
Rapper's Delight is the kind of thing where my massively-introverted chronically-inhibited, "cold as a razor blade, tight as a tourniquet, dry as a funeral drum" spiralling self-absorption and self-loathing can be righted, and bob to the surface of the drowned woods in which I wallow, and let me head out to sea on my own private party boat.
I don't have problems saying "I like icecream" or "the most fun I ever have is at a waterslide park" or "I like good, kids' cartoons/animated movies
as a kid" because joy is not always easy for me to find, especially when I overlook the visceral pleasure these provide. My neurology quite often doesn't seem to concern itself as much as I often do with maturity, or appropriateness, or depth, or intellectualism. If the cockles are anywhere to be tickled, they're possibly truly centred not in my heart but in my hindbrain, where the gibbon lurks. I don't mind letting the gibbon point me in the direction of fun sometimes. He points to the tribal, the pop-ish, the bright colours and the sugary, creamy sweetness of icecream most often.
So, yes, please, anyone, feel free to mock and berate and belittle me (but I'll remind you of a common reaction of monkeys in the zoo to such actions
), call me a musical heathen; tell me I'm hanging with the hubris of the hoi polloi; condemn me for at all supporting manufactured "art" rather than created art, but, regardless, I'm going to say it anyway...
I love the Spice Girls' Wannabe !
There, I feel better now. You'll find the Ignore feature of the forum right
here (<-----linky).
Cheers,
Marc (
"...I wanna really, really, really wanna zigazig ah")