Wednesday, 28 March 2012

"Friends come and go, that is the way of things"

This evening while browsing Facebook a photo popped up featuring an old school friend of mine, and his birthday drinks. I knew all but two of his friends, because I had been to school with them - and yet how many do I speak to now? None of them.

There are 12 people in that photo I used to see on a daily basis.

I often wonder how harsh I have been with the bi monthly ritual of purging people from my Facebook friend list. I tell myself "I'm never going to see them again". And it's true - chances are I will never see them. Since mum rented the family home out in Doncaster, that is no longer a base for me to return to. I don't know anybody in York and I have never lived there for a period longer than three weeks so that isn't really a home for me either.

When I look at the photograph taken on my first university birthday, out of the 18 people that are in my group photo I now only see three or 4 of them regularly.

In some ways it makes me quite sad that I haven't held on to as many friendships. People drifted away from me, I never made the effort to speak to them or I never went out as much as them. I am still very content to amuse myself a lot of the time if I'm honest.

Each month I meet new people. Every time I visit London I meet new people, and yet there are so many I don't see any more. I often wonder this time next year how many friends from university I will still keep in touch with, and how many I will banish off my Facebook forever. I simply never saw the point in keeping everyone you ever knew on there for sentimental value even if you never talk to each other.

Maybe I should make more of an effort with people, but then I have never been one of those who texts people out of the blue to chat to them, or messages them on Facebook unless I need to. This has to change I think!

Tuesday, 27 March 2012

Everybody's wired up

Headphones are great, aren’t they? I can take my entire 78rpm collection out with me when I’m walking to university, when I’m on long train journeys or just to generally pass the time. I have no idea how I used to cope before I got my iPod, although I can distinctly remember trying to keep my portable CD player level so it didn’t skip and I could listen to tracks in their entirety. Those were the days.

In any case now, it’s increasingly common to see so many people wired up to their iPods, MP3 players or mobile phones. Fair enough, the sounds of the street can be pretty dull in comparison to what treasures of music you carry around in your pocket. But I believe the amount of people using headphones has changed the way we communicate to people, and it’s quite unfortunate. Below are some scenarios which I have observed or have happened to me, all because people were wearing headphones.

Situation A: Two people are walking down the street, both wearing headphones. When they pass by each other they will loudly shout “HELLO HOW ARE YOU” with the hope that neither side replies with anything longer than “IM GREAT THANKS”. Of course, anything longer than that would require both sides to remove their headphones and it would lead to an awkward conversation where both sides missed half of what each other said

Situation B: When passing people in the street you go to take your headphones out, or hover your hands near your ears in case you need to take them out. The other person doesn’t even see you. You look silly.

Situation C: People have to fumble in their pockets for their iPods to pause their music whilst they chat to someone.

Situation D: Someone says something to you, and you have to ask “WHAT” about 5 times.

Situation E: Someone shouts you and you can’t hear them. They feel stupid.

Note that all of the above seem to revolve around time when we pass people in the streets. What are we losing out on? Social interaction! That spontaneous moment when you see someone and strike up a great conversation with them. That time you sit next to someone on the bus and chat to the woman next to you because she has the same breed of dog as you.

We’re all so wired up that we are missing out on these wonderful parts of life. Sat with headphones in, tunnel vision on – it sends a pretty strong signal that you’re not to be approached, and it’s very sad. We’re all suffering and I dread to think about what it’s doing to the next generation and their social skills.

Now I don’t advocate a complete removal of them, far from it. But next time you’re out in the street, sat on a train or a bus then try turning the volume down and just speaking to people. It’s amazing what can come from it!

Tuesday, 13 March 2012

The future of our music

Erskine Tate's Vendome Orchestra

This has been a topic mulling in my mind ever since a discussion the other day with a friend of mine. What is going to happen to the great music of the 1920s and 30s?

Of course, the literal answer is quite obvious. It's not going to go anywhere. The records will continue to exist, and shows like Boardwalk Empire will continue to use them in their programming.

The question I really want to ask is "what will happen to the fans". It is no secret that classic jazz attracts an odd bunch to say the least. We're all passionate about it and will pay a lot to hear this music live, by travelling to various events - like the many people from overseas who came to Whitley Bay last year.

However what seems to be in common with a lot of classic jazz fans is their age. It saddens me when I go to jazz events and see mostly grey haired people, who stare at me thinking I'm a musician.

In this sense, our music is in a dire crisis. This generation isn't going to be around forever, however there just isn't enough takeup of classic jazz with young people like they had when they were young. It's forgotten, too old fashioned for so many. The friend I was talking to believed that the only way for jazz music to survive was to take it mainstream, and get it on national TV again - but then I worry that would lead to it being presented as a novelty act, without people realising the effort and many hours of practice that go in to making a successful jazz band.

And yet I have no idea what the answer to this problem is, short of trying to get as many people of my generation in to this wonderful music. There isn't enough exposure of this, as much as shows like Boardwalk Empire help - people still see it as consigned to the past and a part of history, without realising there are still bands playing this.

I worry about the future of our music, it's this which spurs me on to learn as much as I can and hear as much as I can. I do plan on sticking around for a bit longer than this generation, but when they do pass away it will certainly be a loss for the widespread appreciation of classic jazz