I sit, here as for twenty years I’ve sat, wearing my music critic’s hat. I mean it’s clearly not an actual hat. It’s metaphorical. And in those twenty years I’m sad to say these wondrous promenades have gone from bad to worse to bad to pretty crap to bloody horrible. I admit, I’m a bit of a classical music boffin and although I’ve said this often, the final nail in the coffin of these proms is surely imminent. Yes, we survived Nigel effing Kennedy but surely there’s no earthly remedy for a night of so-called comedy hosted by an immigrant. Why we insist on this tosh is a mystery. Classical music and laughter don’t mix, you see One hundred and sixty years of history tossed away for a cheap guffaw. One of our nation’s finest traditions, some of our country’s finest musicians, forced into humiliating conditions. Is nothing sacred any more? Classical music should always be performed, well, you know, classically, with suitably solemn solemnity and usually in three-four, two-three-one-two-three… Now we have this, this comedy prom, it’s all boom-tish and pom pom pom. What are these BBC idiots on? Is nothing sacred any more? I remember, it seems like yesterday, watching the greats who come to play. It was so magical and gay, back when gay meant something good. I wish that I were back there one again, when the orchestras were made of men and some patience and a penny could give you Henry Wood - you would get Wood… Oh, what Henry Wood would think if only Henry Wood could think. Though he’s extinct he would have died if he had seen this. Endless rhymes and dirty puns, people drumming with their tongues, they think it’s funny forcing divas to sing ‘Penis’. … I remember, it seems like yesterday, when conductors were bearded and grey. This little twerp is not yet shaving or evening looking at the score. Is nothing sacred any more? We used to care about the Arts. I mean honestly! Look at this violinist’s chart. It actually says ‘fart’. Is nothing scared any more? So nothing’s scared any more. Stories that inspired the greats of yore: sin, redemption, and the Lord, heaven’s glory and hell’s fires, the battle of the light against the dark, the timeless narratives that drove Mozart and boring Bach. We no longer give a fark. cause nothings sacred. Praise the Lord. I reckon it’s time to start a new tradition, something designed for us comic musicians. We’ll do it every year at the Comedy Prom. It’ll be a ritual from now on. At the end of the night, right, listen up, before they kick us out, start packing up, I reckon all you peasants in the cheap seats should take off your clothes and writhe naked on the floor while a member of the Royal family plays the tune to Doctor Who on a keytar… https://youtube/watch?v=ipWxUdstgFU
Posted on: Mon, 12 Jan 2015 02:11:21 +0000
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