Just Plain Annoying TV
So there I was on Saturday evening, feeling utterly exhausted both mentally and physically. An accident of scheduling had meant I had just produced 10 straight hours of live radio and was looking for something nice and mindless to help me wind down and go to sleep. Flicking through the TV channels I found it, the curious presence on BBC3 of the kind of programme that only the other month Channel 4 had announced it was not doing any more. The Saturday night list show - in this case Part 1 of a massive 2 part programme - "The Most Annoying Pop Records".
The more I watched the more I was caught on the horns of a dilemma. Should I sit back and be mildly entertained an in "I am shattered after a long day" kind of way, or should I give in to the growing sense of despair as I watched yet another parade of z-list celebrities pass spurious comment on a series of songs that they had until that moment probably never harboured a negative thought about.
This is really where shows like these are flawed. Exactly what makes an "annoying" pop record exactly? Is it one that lots of people like but you don't? Or is it one that you like but which has just been overplayed to the extent that you can't actually appreciate it any more? To be honest that last part is a worthy subject for discussion. Last week on a messageboard I am a contributor to, a discussion was taking place over songs that you just don't want to hear ever again. One poster suggested "Come On Eileen" and said the record had no redeeming features whatsoever. I countered by saying that in fact you could wax lyrical for hours about how well it is produced, the magnificence of the bassline, the sheer joyous commercialism of the strings and the quite powerful lyrical imagery. Doing so would however be pointless as the song has been browbeaten into ubiquity by generations of naff wedding discos and function room parties. Any joy there once was in listening to the record has been thrashed out of it by the stampede of cheap perfume and half eaten vol-au-vents that results when Dave Doubledecks gives it a spin just before last orders. We've all been there. That makes an irritating record, I can agree there.
Sadly this wasn't what we got on BBC3 at the weekend. Instead we just had the usual parade of TV stars providing pre-scripted witticisms as the memories of a thousand teenagers played in the background behind them. The only voice of sanity appeared to be that of Pete Waterman who just repeatedly commented in bewildered tones how record x was actually a fabulous piece of pop and deserved to be remembered as such. Never more was he a lone voice in the wilderness.
Sometimes the grounds for branding a song "annoying" were spurious to say the least. "Whenever, Wherever" by Shakira was rejected due to the fact it had pan pipes in the production. That's right, it was a pop record that dared to have a non-conventional instrumental section and so was somehow rather less worthy than other songs. Did these people really sit around in 2002 musing, "I wonder why on earth that is a hit, it has PAN PIPES in it". I'll tell you why it was a hit, wrapped up in one radio friendly package was this out of this world song, sung by an exotic looking blonde woman with a unique yodel in her voice, performing in a video which as I said at the time contained more raw sexuality than was probably legal for screening on daytime MTV. The BBC3 show then homed in on the famous lyrics about small and humble breasts, overlooking the fact that this too was part of the charm, the smouldering Columbian beauty singing some rather suspect lyrics about her bodily parts and leaving open the question that given that English was not her mother tongue, did she actually know what it was she was singing about? That made overall for a fascinating piece of music that was deservedly elevated to classic status in pretty short order.
So that is really what is wrong with "the worst ever.." list shows. They take a lazy route of criticism for the sake of filling a few hours of airtime. Far better surely to sit and talk about just what makes a record so brilliant, just why it sold to so many people and just exactly what memories people have of the time it formed the soundtrack to their lives.
Now those with long memories will note that I did once participate in one of these knocking exercises myself. This was a show broadcast on New Years Day 2004 on Channel 4, entitled "The 100 Worst Pop Records" and in a similar manner to the newer BBC show, featured a series of talking heads stating just what was so bad about this list of songs that the public had allegedly voted into some kind of order.
My involvement with the programme came about in the summer of 2003 when I saw a posting from the production company asking for people to contribute their own personal memories of the worst pop records ever and just why they hated them. So I dropped them a line. I told them about disliking Candle In The Wind 97 because it reminded me of that hideous time in 1997 when I had to spend a week on the radio saying things I didn't really mean and pretending to people that their mass hysteria was perfectly normal and that if you weren't doing it you were some kind of unfeeling monster. I also complained that it meant that the best selling single ever was a dirge, a corrupt reversion of what was once upon a time a rather pretty and touching pop record dedicated to a childhood idol, this ruining it forever. I also mentioned I Will Always Love You, citing the experiences of presenting Late Night Love programmes on local radio stations and being subjected to an endless procession of couples proposing undying love to each other and requesting a song which if they actually listened to the words was about breaking up.
A few weeks later a researcher mailed me back and invited me to come along to the recording that would be taking place in October. I duly trotted along to the small hotel in Notting Hill whose front room had been commandeered for the morning. After being made up and signing the usual release forms, I sat down in a large chair in front of a painted backdrop of musical notes and began talking.
All in all the cameras must have been rolling for well over two hours as before I knew it the morning was over. As well as talking about the records we'd agreed I would mention beforehand, they asked me about some others, clearly looking for the particular soundbites the script was calling for. Thus when it came to "Y Viva Espana" they needed a pundit saying it kicked off the whole concept of naff holiday songs, so I dutifully expressed that opinion.
The more I watched the more I was caught on the horns of a dilemma. Should I sit back and be mildly entertained an in "I am shattered after a long day" kind of way, or should I give in to the growing sense of despair as I watched yet another parade of z-list celebrities pass spurious comment on a series of songs that they had until that moment probably never harboured a negative thought about.
This is really where shows like these are flawed. Exactly what makes an "annoying" pop record exactly? Is it one that lots of people like but you don't? Or is it one that you like but which has just been overplayed to the extent that you can't actually appreciate it any more? To be honest that last part is a worthy subject for discussion. Last week on a messageboard I am a contributor to, a discussion was taking place over songs that you just don't want to hear ever again. One poster suggested "Come On Eileen" and said the record had no redeeming features whatsoever. I countered by saying that in fact you could wax lyrical for hours about how well it is produced, the magnificence of the bassline, the sheer joyous commercialism of the strings and the quite powerful lyrical imagery. Doing so would however be pointless as the song has been browbeaten into ubiquity by generations of naff wedding discos and function room parties. Any joy there once was in listening to the record has been thrashed out of it by the stampede of cheap perfume and half eaten vol-au-vents that results when Dave Doubledecks gives it a spin just before last orders. We've all been there. That makes an irritating record, I can agree there.
Sadly this wasn't what we got on BBC3 at the weekend. Instead we just had the usual parade of TV stars providing pre-scripted witticisms as the memories of a thousand teenagers played in the background behind them. The only voice of sanity appeared to be that of Pete Waterman who just repeatedly commented in bewildered tones how record x was actually a fabulous piece of pop and deserved to be remembered as such. Never more was he a lone voice in the wilderness.
Sometimes the grounds for branding a song "annoying" were spurious to say the least. "Whenever, Wherever" by Shakira was rejected due to the fact it had pan pipes in the production. That's right, it was a pop record that dared to have a non-conventional instrumental section and so was somehow rather less worthy than other songs. Did these people really sit around in 2002 musing, "I wonder why on earth that is a hit, it has PAN PIPES in it". I'll tell you why it was a hit, wrapped up in one radio friendly package was this out of this world song, sung by an exotic looking blonde woman with a unique yodel in her voice, performing in a video which as I said at the time contained more raw sexuality than was probably legal for screening on daytime MTV. The BBC3 show then homed in on the famous lyrics about small and humble breasts, overlooking the fact that this too was part of the charm, the smouldering Columbian beauty singing some rather suspect lyrics about her bodily parts and leaving open the question that given that English was not her mother tongue, did she actually know what it was she was singing about? That made overall for a fascinating piece of music that was deservedly elevated to classic status in pretty short order.
So that is really what is wrong with "the worst ever.." list shows. They take a lazy route of criticism for the sake of filling a few hours of airtime. Far better surely to sit and talk about just what makes a record so brilliant, just why it sold to so many people and just exactly what memories people have of the time it formed the soundtrack to their lives.
Now those with long memories will note that I did once participate in one of these knocking exercises myself. This was a show broadcast on New Years Day 2004 on Channel 4, entitled "The 100 Worst Pop Records" and in a similar manner to the newer BBC show, featured a series of talking heads stating just what was so bad about this list of songs that the public had allegedly voted into some kind of order.
My involvement with the programme came about in the summer of 2003 when I saw a posting from the production company asking for people to contribute their own personal memories of the worst pop records ever and just why they hated them. So I dropped them a line. I told them about disliking Candle In The Wind 97 because it reminded me of that hideous time in 1997 when I had to spend a week on the radio saying things I didn't really mean and pretending to people that their mass hysteria was perfectly normal and that if you weren't doing it you were some kind of unfeeling monster. I also complained that it meant that the best selling single ever was a dirge, a corrupt reversion of what was once upon a time a rather pretty and touching pop record dedicated to a childhood idol, this ruining it forever. I also mentioned I Will Always Love You, citing the experiences of presenting Late Night Love programmes on local radio stations and being subjected to an endless procession of couples proposing undying love to each other and requesting a song which if they actually listened to the words was about breaking up.
A few weeks later a researcher mailed me back and invited me to come along to the recording that would be taking place in October. I duly trotted along to the small hotel in Notting Hill whose front room had been commandeered for the morning. After being made up and signing the usual release forms, I sat down in a large chair in front of a painted backdrop of musical notes and began talking.
All in all the cameras must have been rolling for well over two hours as before I knew it the morning was over. As well as talking about the records we'd agreed I would mention beforehand, they asked me about some others, clearly looking for the particular soundbites the script was calling for. Thus when it came to "Y Viva Espana" they needed a pundit saying it kicked off the whole concept of naff holiday songs, so I dutifully expressed that opinion.
Three months later the show appeared on television. In that time it became clear that the original concept of a fun analysis of what made a bad pop record had gone out of the window in favour of a few sneering remarks from, you guessed it, a succession of z-list celebrities. Most of what I had talked about was left on the editing room floor, including a description of Catherine Zeta-Jones' performance on "For All Time" and the tale of why PJ and Duncan's first hit single "Let's Get Ready To Rhumble" was spelled in such a strange way. None of that was in there.
I was however featured a couple of times, most prominently in the discussion of "No Way No Way" by Vanilla where I to the best of my knowledge became the first person ever to publicly voice the well known rumour that the single had been put together as a bet to see if it was possible to top the charts with the worst record ever. I certainly didn't originate the story as it had been whispered to me on more than one occasion, but since then I've somehow become the source of it and cited as the confirmation that it is true. Which it might well be, I've even asked directly the people who were alleged to have been involved and they have enigmatically refused to comment.
Oh yes, the filming of the programme just happened to coincide with a large scale crisis at work which meant that I had hardly slept a wink in the week before the filming. I had also taken to growing a beard for the first time in many years, only to decide the night before that I looked like a terrorist and that appearing on network television for the first time in an image which I'd only been trying out for a week probably wasn't the most sensible thing to do. Hence I spent the Sunday night shaving it off, turning up the following day with the kind of pallor which only skin which has been covered up by hair for the last week possesses.
Since then I think the programme has only been repeated once, a strange situation given the endless way these list shows were recycled. Before Christmas I scanned the E4 schedules every week, just in case they filled up Saturday night with "100 Worst" but it never came about.
So there you have it, the story of how I once participated in the very thing I spent the weekend complaining about. Needless to say I'll be tuned into Part 2 this Saturday if only to see what they judge to be the Number One most annoying record. I will also sit complaining that no record is truly annoying to everyone. To repeat my favourite theme, listening to music is an emotional experience. We react to records because of they way they sound to us, they way they make us think about our current experiences and the way they remind us of how we were the day we first heard them. I can't hear Soul II Soul and "Back To Life" without thinking of GCSE exams, "Love To Hate You" by Erasure without thinking of leaving home and going to university, "One By One" by Cher without remembering my first ever regular slot on the radio and "Oh What A Night" by the Four Seasons without remembering gamely seducing Melissa Lloyd away from her boyfriend in a campus bedroom. On such things are the soundtracks to our lives compiled. None of them can ever be considered annoying.
1 comments:
So if I say I think "Candle In The Wind 97" and "I Will Always Love You" are two of the best pop recordings ever, am I just proving your point?
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