Whoa! What’s that bloody noise?…

But first…
Dulltown, UK: Today’s existential angst is centred around the sound of the word plethora.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

When I was last in the bustling city of Leeds, about an hour’s train ride from Dulltown, just out of habit, I found myself drifting into a large musical instrument shop, just for a look around, you understand; I didn’t need to actually buy anything; it’s the sort of thing that we musicians do. The shop bears the unlikely name PMT (Professional Music Technology). It is a great barn of a place packed with glittering instruments and enticing sleek stage equipment.
Now dear reader, back to basics. Music is an art form isn’t it? Musicians are creative sensitive souls, aren’t they? Or perhaps they just pretend to be. If you listen to musicians being interviewed on classical music radio stations, such as BBC Radio 3, you can hear them purring on about how sensitive they are and how intense and meaningful their daily musical experience is. But you don’t get many of those people hanging about in PMT on a damp Tuesday afternoon – their customers seem to be mostly cool guitarists, cool bass players, cool drummers and cool keyboards players.
Anyway, on my visit there were two musicians trying out, separately, instruments or items of equipment. They were sitting on stools a good six or so metres apart, one had an electric guitar plugged into a stylish combo amplifier, the other was twanging a bass guitar plugged into an impressively large bass amp. They were both thrashing away loudly, at the same time; oh, and by the way, they were not playing together, they were playing in different keys and playing different tunes… The noise was truly horrible, no, really it was! Am I perhaps a bit over-sensitive? I do play electric guitar, and I sometimes turn it up to, oh, perhaps three or four on the volume knob, but…
The thing is though, what sort of musician can happily sit there performing music in such a hellish sound environment, adding to the ghastly discord with every note they finger – cheerfully twanging away, seeming to be unaware of the cacophonous row that they were producing.
Why didn’t one of them, just for a second or two, pause, and listen, and determine what key the other person was in, and then… join in with them?
Or did each see this as a competition, a clash of egos? Musicians, in all fields, are often noted as being egotistical bastards.
Had they accommodated each other it might have sparked a little musical moment, communication, a coming together of styles, a sparkling gem of serendipitous creativity and improvisation? They could have discovered a musical bond, a Mick and Keith moment, a Lennon and McCartney moment, something that could continue and be developed for decades to come…
But no, it was like some bloody shouting match, or boxing match. If either one had any sensitivity, he (they were both male) could have paused in his thrashing, caught the other’s eye, and shouted across, ‘Hey buddy… Look, I’ll keep quiet for ten minutes for you, and then you can let me have a go…’
Perhaps this had already occurred before I entered the shop, but the other chap had made an insulting hand gesture and shouted back, ‘Fuck off, and I hate that crap you are playing anyway!’
And then maybe the first chap then responded with, ‘Oh, right ho…’ and turned the volume up a another notch and carried on twanging and riffing…
As one of the staff walked past I cupped my hands over my mouth and shouted to him, ‘God! What an awful bloody row!…’
But he didn’t respond, he was probably used to it (or maybe a bit deaf); this is just a part of every day life there in PMT…

About Dave Whatt

Grumpy old surrealist artist, musician, postcard maker, bluesman, theatre set designer, and debonair man-about-town. My favourite tools are the plectrum and the pencil...
This entry was posted in creation, existentialism, guitars, humour, information, music, observations, serendipity, words and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

8 Responses to Whoa! What’s that bloody noise?…

  1. ktz2 says:

    hahaha a funny tale well told

  2. Dana Doran says:

    A plethora of noise? Nope. Oh yes, musicians are artists, and since musicians can be egotistical bastards, I’m reasonably certain that visual artists are as well – – – egos being what they are, success seems to run in parallel to the size of the ego. Can you imagine an artist saying, “well, my work isn’t worthy of the Sistine Chapel…” Nope. Perhaps a better example of egotistical bastards is forcing this crap on the public – https://www.google.com/search?q=Jeff+Koons+art&rlz=1C1RFPM_enUS724US728&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwjvtKSbv8LUAhUG12MKHXuHCDgQ_AUICigB&biw=1366&bih=638#tbm=isch&q=jeff+koons+art+bunny

  3. Dana Doran says:

    Oh boating….I lived on an island a while back and we had a nice 26 footer, suitable for fishing. Quite a life I tell you! But, no, I’ve not been on a trip to Obscurity…but then I suppose I have had my fifteen minutes so I should map out the route!

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