Music is perhaps the one thing which can be really classed as universal, despite its almost infinite variations and forms. David’s musical hero Elvis Costello’s grip on his fans affections is as real as my own titans of the musical world, with names such as Stravinski, Barber, Mozart, Tchaikovsky and Beethoven. Whatever your choice, whether you experience a thrill from hearing a Peruvian Nose Flute, Pan Pipes or a Stradivarius Cello, music is accepted as an experience which can soothe, alarm, please, enrich and entertain, all within a few bars or notes. The virtuoso, whether playing a guitar, piano, violin, oboe or drums can get a feedback reaction from an audience which, although perfectly silent during the music, sends rapture through the ether which tells the player that once more, he or she has conquered.
That much I would attest to, in that musicians, pop or classical, singer or player, are masters of their trade. They have to be, otherwise they would not last very long in the cut-throat world of music. They have to be aware of the butterfly affections of their fans, whose appetite must be fed with more, and newer pieces, all of which have to be aimed straight at their target market like a bullet from a Barrett .50 calibre sniper rifle. The best survive and adapt, like the Stones or Status Quo; (these names are known even unto me, not because I know or like their music, but because their names crop up on news-sites) the balance flare like a starburst, then fade quickly from sight.
The problem is, from long-serving musicians or solar-flare types equally, is that because they are known in one field, they all arrogantly accept that this automatically gives them the right to pontificate on just about every subject, political, domestic or world-wide, that comes to wider public knowledge. Thus we have Bob Geldof, who rescued a faded pop career by investing his time and lots of other peoples money to ”Feed the World”, we also shrink from the nasal tones of some clown named Bonio or something, who attempts to dictate how lots of other peoples money should again be spent.
We heard this morning how Roger Waters, who apparently lead a group named Pink Flood or something similar, was planning to start another tour with his own band, but featuring the massive hit album ‘The Wall’. Now if the BBC wants to give this clown some free publicity, so be it, but I for one take exception to the little diatribe which was spouted from this self-opinionated musician on his own pet hates. He was asked by the Today interviewer if he would perform a ‘farewell tour’ and replied “at the age of sixty-six, why not? But I would like to play one concert when one wall comes down, and that is the wall in Bethlehem. That is one wall where I would like to play!”
I wonder if he has many fans amongst the Israelis who lost so many family members to the suicide , mortar and death squad attacks before that Wall was erected; that Wall which brought a sudden drop in the attacks from fundamentalist Pallies’ and their best friends in Hezbollah? I wonder if Mr. Waters would forgive his neighbours if they started shelling his home from across the green valley where he lives? I wonder if his lip-service to the demands of a group of killers and terrorists advances their cause one iota? I fervently hope it does not!