Sing When You're Winning...

Dear Songs,

Sometimes I feel bad for you. You were only ever written with the purest of intentions, how tv shows hijacked you in the name of wrecking someone's dream is beyond me. Once upon a time people sang because it made them happy, because they had a story that needed telling, now a lot of people sing because it makes them famous, the hands of a marketing machine placing a firm stranglehold on any individuality, one size fits all, do not pass go, do not collect 200 pounds. I hate that an old man with questionable taste in trousers gets to tell a 17 year old that they can't sing, nor should they. Stomping on a dream before it's even begun to flourish. Would it be so hard to tell the same person to go away and practice, persevere, work hard and never give up? I guess you could say that, but then the lions wouldn't have their christians.

Back in the day, people sang about love with no fear, hell, Etta james would rather have gone blind, blind I tell you, than see her man walk away. Now we sing about how no one hurts us and we don't need anybody at all. How wrong we got it and how sad it must make you feel, dear songs.

All is not lost for you sweet songs, those of us who truly love you will always seek out an original, not a modern made for tv idol, but a real one, made of vinyl, lying dusty at the bottom of the box in the shop at the end of the arcade, you know the one. People will cram themselves into vans so tiny, even though their guitarist's foot might be up their arse and they find themselves wearing a cymbal for a bonnet, just to tell their tales. These are our real idols, and songs? They might just be the ones to save you...

Yours sincerely,