It's some sort of myth that you have to hold on to your passions, for life.
Many years ago the energy was still in me to project that passion
for soul and jazz music over Canterbury's airwaves.
Nowadays if probed in on either subjects, I would be likely to ask,
"What's an Ezra Collective?"
On attempting to understand the hype around the Mercury Prize winning act,
all I can hear is carnival music.
Nothing that I haven't heard before, or something I have heard done better.
But that's the thing, hype.
It's a long time since I was just barely enthusiastic about anything new,
which may explain why I am still leaning towards LPs by Joni Mitchell,
Dusty Springfield, or Laura Nyro soundtracking autumnal sunsets.
Or when the weather's a lot warmer, Azymuth, Steely Dan, late 80s Tears
For Fears, Soul Asylum, or almost any single or album released in 1967,
pretending I lived through a time when pirate radio ruled, in an age
where there were no digital distractions.
In no way however would I wish for Big L and other such stations
to return to the airwaves.
Listening to crackly old recordings beggars the question,
without the music, and Dallas-sung jingles, isn't it just a load of men
talking complete bollocks, and sharing in-jokes that only they find funny?
The latter may still exist in present day radio with regards to a listener
feeling as if they're eavesdropping on a party they haven't been invited to.
There was one week in the last month where I barely switched on
my radio full-stop.
Liza Tarbuck on holiday, "I'm Sorry I Haven't A Clue", not back until
the summer, and 6 Music, which used to be an enjoyable listen,
now obsessed with "curators" and indie bands from the 90s
attempting to make desperate comebacks.
One such occasion finding myself myself mistaking a live performance
by Suede, for what sounded more like a Suede tribute band.
The radio veteran Trevor Dann recently said that in an age of streaming,
a radio presenter (sorry, "curator") can play the part of a "trusted guide"
introducing you to new music.
But with "new" seemingly the present day replacement for whether music
is any good or not, it's safe to say that there's nobody I can trust anymore.
Waiting two or three hours to hear a "winner" when you would be lucky
to hear just one song that would barely scrape a bronze medal.
I would love to be proved wrong on that thought, but as of present
am still in need of a lot of convincing.
