I had been waiting a while for it to happen, and happen it did last weekend. ‘Turn your music down,’ said my 11-year-old daughter from the next room.
I had been waiting a while for it to happen, and happen it did last weekend. ‘Turn your music down,’ said my 11-year-old daughter from the next room. ‘I’m trying to think.’ At last the generation gap has asserted itself. She does like some of my music, although she increasingly leans towards showtunes and has far more interest in classical music than I had at that age. ‘It’s too loud,’ she clarified.
I was playing the Pet Shop Boys’ latest album Yes (Parlophone), which is rather a dense production, courtesy of the naggingly successful production team Xenomania, the people who brought you Girls Aloud. Listen to their music on headphones and there’s simply too much to take in: trillions of guitars, keyboard lines, percussion, squeaky little noises, extra little tunes squeezed in between all the tunes underlying the main tune.
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