As it’s half-term this week on Wednesday the Bisto family took the train to Birmingham to buy some new clothes. Not for me of course, my primary role was to dispose of my income on behalf of the progeny but my eldest daughter did manage to convince me to buy a pair of Vans, not Bedford or Ford Transit, but a pair of canvas shoes that apparently are quite popular amongst the young folk. I’m quite pleased with them to be honest, the most comfortable canvas shoe ever to grace the Bisto trotters. While in HMV she bought herself a Rolling Stones T-shirt. Before agreeing to the purchase I insisted she tell me her 3 favourite tracks. Quick as a flash she came back with Paint It Black, Gimme Shelter and – and this one really took me by surprise – Fingerprint File.
“It’s sooo funky and good to dance to” she said.
My eyebrow suitably raised she explained that one of her friends comes in to her after school dance club every week with her portable turntable and a box of records and in between rehearsals she plays old records in the changing rooms by the likes of the Stones, David Bowie, T-Rex and many others. She then confided that they have an Instagram group where the friend with the turntable starts a live video stream of her playing LPs, 12″ and 7″ for the benefit of their homework group. Thinking this was all very cool and nodding my approval I suddenly realised that we’d gravitated to the turntables in HMV and that she now had that wistful, hopeful look on her face that says she’s hoping dad is in one of his overly generous moods and will splash the cash on one of his great big gesture purchases. I wasn’t.
Anyway I digress. Nature called so I toddled off to the public conveniences. After a few moments I realised that the music of Harold Budd was being piped through the speakers overhead which rather caught me by surprise. Openly astonished I had one of those moments where you catch yourself grinning and turning your head from side to side in the hope of catching the eye of someone else having the same jolt of recognition. Possibly not the best move in a men’s public urinals.
I was reminded of the last time I heard music in a public space that normally I would only hear at home. It was a holiday about 25 years ago on Thassos. My wife (then girlfriend) and I were walking back from the bar (The Full Moon Cafe it was called) suitably oiled from large G&Ts and Retsina. As we approached the entrance of our hotel at around 1am I heard the distinctive opening chords of Genesis’s Watcher of the Skies wafting from the open window of an upstairs apartment across the road. It’s the only time I’ve ever heard that song being played by someone other than myself and on a Greek island of all places.
So my question to you all is what’s the strangest or most unexpected location you’ve heard a song or an artist you like – one that’s not a staple of radio playlists – being played in a public space?
Your daughter has good taste, Fingerprint File is magnificent.
Most bizarre musical thing I saw in public was a Christmas party at a senior’s home. The {French Canadian) singer armed with backing tapes worked his way through many a seasonal Quebecois classic, before moving on to Pink Floyd! To see the 80 and 90 somethings showing us their shapes to “We don’t need no education ….” was a sight to behold.
Thats a great story and I just love it when one of my kids expresses an interest in a piece of music I have always regarded as cool. Its also good when my daughter in particular plays a song that I actually like (not often but it does happen).
Unexpected music event – an Elevator in Las Vegas – Elvis Costello’s Accidents will happen but not the version that everyone knows – it was the slow piano version.
Having a work lunch in a restaurant in Wellington NZ, a not-that-well-known Depeche Mode acoustic version of a long-forgotten single came on. I am used to hearing the hits occasionally., but this threw me. The guy I was with was a “civilian” so didn’t really get what I was on about.
One Sunday afternoon, pushing my trolley around a packed Morrisons, this blasted out of the speakers:
Reader, I stopped, listened carefully & drank it all in.
“Cleanup crew: Spillage in aisle 27. Tigger’s been “drinking it all in” again.”
I’ve heard the (very) occasional musical gem coming through the PA system at my local ASDA. The big supermarket chains tend to have their own fake radio stations burbling bright and breezy “spend your money” music quietly in the background, with occasional louder sales pitches for whatever is on special that day.
In a Macadamia nut themed “family activity park” in northern NSW. Piped music included “Kites are Fun” by The Free Design
Waiting for a flight in Brisbane airport a few years ago to the piped accompaniment of “Who Fucking Pissed In My Well” by the Brian Jonestown Massacre.
Hotel reception in London last week – Dorothy Ashby’s classy version of “Little Sunflower”.
For some reason that sticks in the memory, mid-period Pat Metheny in Hull’s fabulous Prospect Centre – ideal Wilko-shopping music.
That’ll be for the entertainment of women getting their eyebrows done. It’s usually that or The Faust Tapes.
As I flew through the air onto the Walsall’s Broadway traffic island while being perused by my beloved Vespa PX200 (which eventually fell on me and broke both my legs) I distinctly remember being impressed that the owner of the Mini Metro which had propelled me airborne should be playing Chet Baker’s My Funny Valentine…
I was queuing in a Monoprix in Paris in 2005 and noticed that Gil Scot Heron’s The Bottle was playing on the store system. The guy in front of me was actually singing idly along with the scat bit.
I’d gone in for beer, of course.