Skip to main content

Desert Island Disc-aster

Moan disclaimer: it has been commented in the past that I moan a lot on this blog. Let it be noted that I am blogging about this topic specifically because I was asked to by my friend Helen, not because I intended to.

There are bits of BBC's Radio 4 of which I am very fond. But there are certain programmes that I switch away from as fast as the radio's buttons allow - and one of these is Desert Island Discs. For those not familiar with it, a famous person (the 'castaway') is supposed to be washed up on a desert island with a solar powered music machine, a handful of records, a book and a luxury. Their choices are weaved into a discussion of their life and work, with snippets played from the records.

In one sense, my aversion is pure gut. I hear that awful theme tune (see below) and I just want to run and hide. There's no logic to that, simple knee-jerk reaction. If I try to analyse the dislike, in part it's that the format is so dated. It was started in an age of reverence for authority figures, and you feel the presenter should be dressed in a DJ (even though she is now a woman), as all good radio presenters once were.

My second problem is that the whole thing feels so false. The scenario of the castaway, certainly, but also the whole pally, 'Let's chat over a coffee and learn a little about your through the music that was important in your life,' makes me shudder. It's hardly probing and insightful.

Perhaps most of all it's because I'm not interested in 'famous people' (not that I've heard of half the people they drag on). If it were someone I knew personally, then, yes, I'd listen with interest. But what do I care that some obscure painter or orchestral conductor or politician or whatever was inspired at the age of 13 by Elvis Presley?

Is that Desert Island Discs I hear on the radio? Must dash, I've some paint to watch drying.



Image from BBC site

Comments

  1. Oh dear, I didn't intend to give you a complex about moaning and I feel bad now. It was only a lighthearted comment - I like your blog and if you're a bit Meldrew from time to time, that's all part of the charm. So, please, moan away as much as you like!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Don't worry, Sara - nothing can stop the grumpy old moans.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Thanks for heeding my request, Brian. I can't say I agree with you on most points, but you have made them eloquently, as usual! Keep the blogs coming, I enjoy reading them.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Heresy! You'll be having a go at the Archers next.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Now that you're doing Moans to order, can you tell me how I go about ordering one please? Will you cover all subjects or will you specialise? And in what sectors?

    Will you have a sign on your door saying "The Moaner is In" ?

    ReplyDelete
  6. Thanks, Helen - I accept you can't expect everything to work for everyone. It would be boring if it did. For instance, I don't think I dare (in your presence) mention my opinion of jazz. Similarly I love Tudor/Elizabethan church music - but I realize it is boring/unapproachable to some.

    Henry - is it possible to have a go at the Archers? That DOES sound like heresy. But I know a woman who could.

    Ian - I will moan about anything, but my rate card varies dependent on topic. Rate card available on request from brian@brianclegg.net And Peanuts needs to catch up. In this modern, electronically connected world, the moaner is always in.

    ReplyDelete
  7. I've been thinking for a while of doing a series of blog posts on my pet hates... women with noisy shoes who walk directly behind me; anyone with an umbrella; people who dither around on station concourses with wheelie bags that trip you up ... and after that it gets serious.

    ReplyDelete
  8. I look forward to it, Henry. Perhaps we could have a follow up to the 'Grumpy old women/Grumpy old men' TV series... 'Grumpy old science writers'.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Why I hate opera

If I'm honest, the title of this post is an exaggeration to make a point. I don't really hate opera. There are a couple of operas - notably Monteverdi's Incoranazione di Poppea and Purcell's Dido & Aeneas - that I quite like. But what I do find truly sickening is the reverence with which opera is treated, as if it were some particularly great art form. Nowhere was this more obvious than in ITV's recent gut-wrenchingly awful series Pop Star to Opera Star , where the likes of Alan Tichmarsh treated the real opera singers as if they were fragile pieces on Antiques Roadshow, and the music as if it were a gift of the gods. In my opinion - and I know not everyone agrees - opera is: Mediocre music Melodramatic plots Amateurishly hammy acting A forced and unpleasant singing style Ridiculously over-supported by public funds I won't even bother to go into any detail on the plots and the acting - this is just self-evident. But the other aspects need some ex

Is 5x3 the same as 3x5?

The Internet has gone mildly bonkers over a child in America who was marked down in a test because when asked to work out 5x3 by repeated addition he/she used 5+5+5 instead of 3+3+3+3+3. Those who support the teacher say that 5x3 means 'five lots of 3' where the complainants say that 'times' is commutative (reversible) so the distinction is meaningless as 5x3 and 3x5 are indistinguishable. It's certainly true that not all mathematical operations are commutative. I think we are all comfortable that 5-3 is not the same as 3-5.  However. This not true of multiplication (of numbers). And so if there is to be any distinction, it has to be in the use of English to interpret the 'x' sign. Unfortunately, even here there is no logical way of coming up with a definitive answer. I suspect most primary school teachers would expands 'times' as 'lots of' as mentioned above. So we get 5 x 3 as '5 lots of 3'. Unfortunately that only wor

Which idiot came up with percentage-based gradient signs

Rant warning: the contents of this post could sound like something produced by UKIP. I wish to make it clear that I do not in any way support or endorse that political party. In fact it gives me the creeps. Once upon a time, the signs for a steep hill on British roads displayed the gradient in a simple, easy-to-understand form. If the hill went up, say, one yard for every three yards forward it said '1 in 3'. Then some bureaucrat came along and decided that it would be a good idea to state the slope as a percentage. So now the sign for (say) a 1 in 10 slope says 10% (I think). That 'I think' is because the percentage-based slope is so unnatural. There are two ways we conventionally measure slopes. Either on X/Y coordiates (as in 1 in 4) or using degrees - say at a 15° angle. We don't measure them in percentages. It's easy to visualize a 1 in 3 slope, or a 30 degree angle. Much less obvious what a 33.333 recurring percent slope is. And what's a 100% slope