Do you have a complicated relationship with heavy metal and classical music?
March 21, 2023


I go walking everyday. Well, almost everyday. I go everyday except those days when it’s incredibly freaking butt-numbing cold outside. But, thanks to global warming, we haven’t had many of those this year, so I go everyday.

That didn’t really come out right, and the checkout guy at Trader Joe’s and I agreed that we feel guilty about benefiting from the planet dying, but that we were happy it hadn’t snowed this year.

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Anyway, I go walking everyday and I figure out how to solve all the big world problems, and then forget it by the time I get back to the apartment. Sometimes I leave voice memos on my phone, but I can’t hear what I’m saying cuz there’s always some bus, or firetruck or street dude yelling about how The Beatles are all really aliens from some planet I don’t recognize. It’s just too freaking loud here, and that’s a problem I’m gonna solve on my walk tomorrow.

So… it’s complicated. Kinda like artsy, cinematic songs and scores played live to silent films. You didn’t think I was gonna get here did you, and truthfully, neither did I, but here we are.

I grew up as a nerdy music, sci-fi/horror loving, comic book geek, who thought Wile E. Coyote and Monty Python were high art. I still think Wile E. Coyote and Monty Python is high art, but now I know there are other people who think so too. You know who you are.

And all that would’ve been okay, if I didn’t also have this complicated relationship with heavy metal and classical music.

I grew up in London in the mid-70’s. Yes, I’m old, but I got to be a teenager in London in the mid-70’s, so take that you smarty-pants whipper-snappers. I wake up many mornings missing the 70’s, but happy that bell bottoms that flair out and cover your shoes, are no longer in style. What I miss about London in the 70’s is not Dr. Who, because even though I’m a sci fi geek, I think you have to be born in the United Kingdom to make heads or tails out of that show. Believe me I’ve tried. Everybody in England knows two things. They know every single monarch that’s ever ruled over the British Isles, and they know Dr. Who.

If you go into any pub and you don’t know a soul, you can say something like, “Geez, Dr. Who. Unbelievable.”, and immediately everyone will be buying you pints and talking about the TARDIS and just a whole bunch of crazy shit you don’t understand. You just have to nod your head and order another pint.

Oh, and Pro Tip. Do *not* try and match an English-person drink for drink. You will lose. You will be face down on the bar and you will have a hangover for about a week. Trust me. They are professionals, and they have been training since birth. Just one drink to every three or four of theirs. You’ll still be wasted, but at least you can probably get yourself into a taxi.

But Dr. Who aside, London led to my complicated relationship with both metal and classical music. This was a time when all the music on your Dad’s “classic rock” station was being played live by the original guys and, it’s London. You can’t throw a stick and not hit a string quartet. So, it was nothing to jump on the Tube, go to the Albert Hall and then to the pub, because that’s what you do, and then go see [insert your favorite band from your Dad’s classic rock station here].

To me, it was all great music, and I always wondered why bands and orchestras *didn’t* play together. And yes, you can probably guess my favorite Beatles album.

So, when it came time to write artsy, cinematic songs and scores to classic silent films, it just seemed like the right thing to do.

Okay, so that worked out. I’m feeling pretty good about this week’s email. I shared. We bonded. I still don’t know crap about Dr. Who and no matter how they try, bell bottoms aren’t making a comeback.
And if they are, I’m not going there.

DUDE, it that a TARDIS and what’s in it for me?
Why is it blue? You can’t hide it as a phone booth if it’s blue.

Bottomline it for me
– I hate being cold
– Global warming sucks
– Yeah, I’m old, but you missed the 70’s
– Do *not* match the English drink for drink. You’ve been warned.

That’s it, I’m not gonna get all mushy.
See ya ~ Kevin

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