I don’t believe anyone should ever feel guilty about their taste in music. Even if you like Metallica or---heaven forfend---The Black Eyed Peas, I’ll not make you feel guilty at all, though I may try to talk you down for your own good. I’ve never considered a song to be a guilty pleasure: it’s either pleasurable or it isn’t, that’s it, black and white. Of course there are shades of pleasure in music: some songs are inevitably better than others, but I don’t think there are kinds, or modes, of pleasure involved. Songs can be tinged with other emotions, of course, and that’s what makes music so astounding, but guilt is not one of these, or shouldn’t be. However, I undertook this 30 Day Song Challenge, and I will play the game. Today’s choice is a song which I do not feel an ounce of guilt for loving, but many (many) people think this song is tragically naff, and it undoubtedly is, but that doesn’t stop it from kicking.
It’s a love song to music. Unashamedly overblown and self-indulgent, but it works ‘cos John Miles has the talent to back up his ego: singing, playing guitars and keyboards, and switching genres and styles mid-song until it becomes a towering, almost-prog mini-epic of near-Wakeman proportions. Maybe this song is too much, maybe it could be a little embarrassing, but I don’t care. I love music and I love Music, and this song is just great music. John Miles gets it. “Music is my first love and it will be my last.” That’s it, that’s all there is to say. It’s the truth. Music is my blood and my life, and it pervades every waking second (and most sleeping seconds) of my existence. There’s nothing more important than music, and even if a song is a little bit silly, as long as it’s heartfelt, that makes all the difference.
I know I haven’t written much today, because I’m tired and a little cranky, but I think I got my point across. Guilty or not, Music is always a pleasure.
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