Читать книгу Grumpy Old Men: New Year, Same Old Crap - David Quantick - Страница 15

Doesn’t go the other way much, does it? Apart from that bloke who did the South Bank Show music and some ill-advised John Williams records, most classical musicians tend to eschew the world of pop, probably because they know they’d be no good at it. They know that purely because you can play all the notes in the world and read music and everything doesn’t actually mean that you’ll be good at just whacking a guitar or a keyboard and making onky noises all the livelong day. (Although this doesn’t apply to the Vanessa-Maes of this world, who know all this and don’t care, probably because they are sadists and like the idea of taking a perfectly innocent bit of Bach, tying it to a wall and throwing drums at it.)

But Johnny and Jane Pop Singer have no such compunction. Blithely unaware that what they do is a perfectly valid art form and who cares if it isn’t, it’s hugely entertaining and they’re good at it, they get delusions of something and before you know it, they’re attempting a form which is just similar enough to what they’re already doing to not worry them (see PEOPLE WHO ARE FAMOUS FOR ONE THING AND THEN GO AND DO ANOTHER THING). ‘Ooh, a lute,’ says some fool. ‘That’s just a guitar from the olden days. I can play that.’ Another chap says, ‘Look, a symphony. That’s just like a very big song! I bet I could write one of those.’ And off they go.

The only good thing about pop stars going classical is that it’s quite funny seeing them trying to look the part. Maybe it’s the tuxedo (with basketball boots so people know they’re still rock and roll). Maybe it’s the constipated look as they try to conduct a 72-piece orchestra when they’ve only ever told a drummer what to do before. But mostly it’s the bloody silly bow at the end. Look at me! I’m classical! I must be, I’m bowing!