As this is nearing the end of the year, I started thinking about all of those lists that are now coming out regarding the 10 Best Whatevers of the Year. These lists will include such things as recordings that are considered to be vital, essential, fundamental and otherwise it. People may dispute an entry here or there, may proffer up alternatives, may be both dismissive and supportive. The conclusion that can be drawn, though, is that this stuff Matters. Which got me to thinking about what really lasts, what really matters, in this world of rock and roll. And, in some regards, it is almost ephemeral. Almost.
Although “dippy” isn’t the sort of adjective one would associate with the level of discourse found here on GloNo, it is that word that best lends itself to John Lennon’s “Imagine.” Had that song been done by anyone other than the brainy Beatle, the level of excoriation would cause this page to explode. Think only of the crescendo of the “You-hoo-hoo,” as though he’s thirsting for a chocolate beverage. Oh, sure, the right sentiment is hit, with the idea about no war and living in peace and harmony, but the same can be said of “Kumbya,” and that isn’t a particularly revered song unless you happen to be 14 and you are sitting around a campfire. If Barry Manilow had busted out with “Imagine,” it would have been considered sappier than “Mandy.”
So I take some encouragement that the Brits haven’t judged “Imagine” to be their favorite single of all time. It takes number two.
But what is number one? Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody.” Please. From a country that produced such singles as “Satisfaction,” “Can’t Explain,” hell, I’ll even throw in “Stairway to Heaven,” and we haven’t even scratched the surface, Mountain Dew commercial notwithstanding (and do they even have Dew in the U.K.?), it is hard to imagine. “Bohemian Rhapsody”? Apparently, a poll by British Hit Singles, published by Guinness World Records, gives it the nod. Crikey! Clearly, you can’t underestimate the taste of the masses.
That Brits tend to have comparatively bad teeth is evident. (Something to do with the national health care, presumably.) Perhaps there is some sort of hearing (or taste) impairment, as well.
Wanna see something creepy?
Sure, it’s old and it’s sort of lame, but the idea of compiling your “Desert Island Discs” really makes you think about how you feel about music. This is particularly difficult for music freaks, the kind of people who cherish items as extravagant as the Complete Hank Williams Recordings box set. Still though, it’s an interesting exercise, so I asked the Glorious Noise posse to come up with their Desert Island Discs. Click here to see what kind of hut-buddies we’d be.
And if you want to show us your own list of Desert Island Discs, we created a new topic on the Board. Interact!