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Thursday, November 27th, 2003
They're wrong I tell you...
Thursday, November 27th, 2003 05:23 pmFar be it for me to essay an attempt to turn the tide in the inevitable and seemingly endless fragmentation of musical styles and nomenclature, but some of it really does baffle me.
As my only and attentive reader, you will recall that some time back I mentioned that I was hoping to pick up a CD by The Hot Club of Cow Town, having sen them perform on Late Night with Jools Holland.
I have searched both high and low, in jazz stores and megastores. I have looked in Woolworths and in Smiths. I have tried the web, I have tried word of mouth. All to no avail. (They are available from Play.com but onmly after an unspecified period of waiting).
But today, my search is over. I found them in the Virgin Megastore on Oxford Street.
In the Country section.
Now we all know country music, do we not? It is the music of the slide guitar, of large women named Dolly, and of the Nine-stone Cowboy.
Wichita Lineman not withstanding, Country is the music of pain and suffering. Plastic cowboys and mormon barns, 'hey-hoo's' and such bring out the concept of hell on earth far more efficiently than the blackest of Blues.
At best, Country is Folk music for the retard.
Now, whatever the Hot Club of Cowtown are, they are not that. Jazz-Swing perhaps, but not country.
Never country. No-one deserves country.
As my only and attentive reader, you will recall that some time back I mentioned that I was hoping to pick up a CD by The Hot Club of Cow Town, having sen them perform on Late Night with Jools Holland.
I have searched both high and low, in jazz stores and megastores. I have looked in Woolworths and in Smiths. I have tried the web, I have tried word of mouth. All to no avail. (They are available from Play.com but onmly after an unspecified period of waiting).
But today, my search is over. I found them in the Virgin Megastore on Oxford Street.
In the Country section.
Now we all know country music, do we not? It is the music of the slide guitar, of large women named Dolly, and of the Nine-stone Cowboy.
Wichita Lineman not withstanding, Country is the music of pain and suffering. Plastic cowboys and mormon barns, 'hey-hoo's' and such bring out the concept of hell on earth far more efficiently than the blackest of Blues.
At best, Country is Folk music for the retard.
Now, whatever the Hot Club of Cowtown are, they are not that. Jazz-Swing perhaps, but not country.
Never country. No-one deserves country.
They're wrong I tell you...
Thursday, November 27th, 2003 05:23 pmFar be it for me to essay an attempt to turn the tide in the inevitable and seemingly endless fragmentation of musical styles and nomenclature, but some of it really does baffle me.
As my only and attentive reader, you will recall that some time back I mentioned that I was hoping to pick up a CD by The Hot Club of Cow Town, having sen them perform on Late Night with Jools Holland.
I have searched both high and low, in jazz stores and megastores. I have looked in Woolworths and in Smiths. I have tried the web, I have tried word of mouth. All to no avail. (They are available from Play.com but onmly after an unspecified period of waiting).
But today, my search is over. I found them in the Virgin Megastore on Oxford Street.
In the Country section.
Now we all know country music, do we not? It is the music of the slide guitar, of large women named Dolly, and of the Nine-stone Cowboy.
Wichita Lineman not withstanding, Country is the music of pain and suffering. Plastic cowboys and mormon barns, 'hey-hoo's' and such bring out the concept of hell on earth far more efficiently than the blackest of Blues.
At best, Country is Folk music for the retard.
Now, whatever the Hot Club of Cowtown are, they are not that. Jazz-Swing perhaps, but not country.
Never country. No-one deserves country.
As my only and attentive reader, you will recall that some time back I mentioned that I was hoping to pick up a CD by The Hot Club of Cow Town, having sen them perform on Late Night with Jools Holland.
I have searched both high and low, in jazz stores and megastores. I have looked in Woolworths and in Smiths. I have tried the web, I have tried word of mouth. All to no avail. (They are available from Play.com but onmly after an unspecified period of waiting).
But today, my search is over. I found them in the Virgin Megastore on Oxford Street.
In the Country section.
Now we all know country music, do we not? It is the music of the slide guitar, of large women named Dolly, and of the Nine-stone Cowboy.
Wichita Lineman not withstanding, Country is the music of pain and suffering. Plastic cowboys and mormon barns, 'hey-hoo's' and such bring out the concept of hell on earth far more efficiently than the blackest of Blues.
At best, Country is Folk music for the retard.
Now, whatever the Hot Club of Cowtown are, they are not that. Jazz-Swing perhaps, but not country.
Never country. No-one deserves country.