Because I’m a deeply cultured man with a vast array of eclectic interests and passions (read: ‘I like rugby as well as football’), I found myself last night at the Barbican concert hall for a symphonic concert. As ya do. When yer fuckin’ cultured. And it was wonderful. It was a celebration of modern composers by the London Symphony Orchestra. And the music was… errrr… well… at times almost musical! Not much of the time, obviously, because these were ‘modern’ compositions and those modernists don’t like music which, sort of, sounds like music. Nah. It’s about the (lack of) structure. It’s about replicating nature, creating an atmosphere, Its about the total avoidance of anything which might be mistaken for ‘a tune’. Even though they’re all in tune. Because we heard them tuning up. Which was more pleasant on the ear than most of the compositions. And yet, it’s all technically brilliant and musically… ‘interesting’. Modern orchestral works are basically musical masturbation. Without a happy ending. The woman sitting in front of me had a solution. See pic.

I’m not saying that all classical music written since the death of Beethoven is shit. I would not be so crass nor, as above, uncultured. But with yer Tchaikovsky you knew what you were getting. Even Wagner, Hitler’s favourite, could bang out a tune that you’d be singing all the way home, and in some cases, use in wars to come (Apocalypse Now, helicopter rockets to the Flight of the Valkyries; THAT is inspirational music. Even if it only, sort of, inspires mass killing).

At its very best, modern classical music all sounds like the soundtrack to a horror movie. It’s like listening to Psycho. All mood and drama and jagged edges and sharp corners, catching you by surprise. I was sitting in the Barbican waiting for Freddie Kruger to leap on me.

But watching an orchestra is always wonderful. Whatever they’re playing. Most of the ‘band’ have fairly static roles. But the percussionists don’t. They run around, basically, banging things. But so many different things, all set up in different places and all needing to banged with different bangers. So you hit a cow-bell, (C-sharp, if you’re interested) with a drum-stick, then rush over to the bass drum, grab the big furry-ended stick and hit that a couple time, then whizz back to the pipes, for which you need a bow, then grab the drum-sticks…

Its frantic and positively exhausting. If only there was a way of having the drums and bells and cymbals all arranged together, sort of ‘surrounding’ the percussionist? You could call it… a drum kit!! and invent Ginger Baker to go with it.

Then play on.

A xxxx