In 64 days time, I'm turning 40. Yep I know, it's supposed to be "when life begins", but for the most it's a reminder that not only are you no longer able to call yourself 'young', you find yourself slipping into the inexorable habit of finding the latest culture, trends and music to be 'not as good as it was in my day'.
Growing up in the era of 90's Britpop, the last true, pre-social media people's cultural movement, I never used to understand why my Dad couldn't stand Pulp or Oasis, but would happy drop what he was doing whenever a Pink Floyd concert came on TV. Now I'm doing the exact same thing, only with The 1975 and Blur respectively.
There's no point either trying to escape the tedium by wading through the multiple channels that MTV serve up these days. R&B videos are the worst, hulking men with tattoos and gold teeth surrounded by scantily-clad twerkers energetically throwing themselves over the bonnets and boots of expensive cars, expensive booze, diamond-encrusted everything's, bits of weaponry and silicone-pumped body parts. It's the sort of thing that would have Run DMC and Public Enemy sobbing into their cornflakes that something that was such a genuine, original and authentic subcultural movement that had such powerful message behind it, has given way to something so ostentatiously shallow.
Sadly it isn’t just the rappers. Were that the case I wouldn’t mind so much, that kind of thing is easy enough to avoid. But the signs of the reverse of standards – of the idolisation of the superficial – are everywhere. Open a magazine, turn on TV, it’s all there for you to see. I was especially reminded of this the other day when I found out apparently 8.2 million simple-minded gullible morons watched the final of "The Masked Singer".
Which is a) more people than watched the New Year's day special of Doctor Who and therefore conclusive proof that being stuck in lockdown has made us all much thicker, b) made even worse by the undeniable fact that The Masked Singer is the most stupid, idiotic, dumb, brainless, childish, unintelligent and painfully lowbrow programme in the history of television. It's like the outcome of the “make a TV show” challenge on The Apprentice if it was still going.
Sadly and predictably, my mum loves it. But for me there is nothing more utterly tragic an example of how far we have fallen than seeing Sir Lenny Henry, a bona-fide national treasure, a man who has appeared on stage as Othello, a man who has raised billions for the poorest people in the world, reduced to pratting around singing glorified karaoke in a glitter-covered blob suit.
The Masked Singer shouldn’t exist, and I wish it didn't. Television has never been more highbrow and far-reaching these days thanks in no small part to Netflix and Amazon Prime, ironically, churning out tremendous amounts of original content. And yet so many of us are choosing to watch a pleb in a hedgehog suit attempt to sing. This is for the same reason Channel 5 still dedicates serious prime-time to celebrities ranking various chocolate bars and biscuits, and why ITV once aired a one-off show celebrating 20 years of the Black Eyed Peas presented by “their friend” Joanna Lumley. This is not an accident, it's by design.
The thing is, Art, including music, doesn’t impart morality. Art reflects the philosophy of a society. There is a sense in this article that art changes the mind of the viewer, but this is wrong. Art concretises someone else’s philosophy and presents it for judgement. We can be surrounded by ugly art and know it for what it is. Those that endorse, or turn a blind eye, knowing something is ugly are guilty of evasion. It’s like the story of the Kings new clothes. Evaders fear what others will think if they are honest. Hence, they choose dishonesty for themselves.
It IS possible to watch something bad from the past knowingly and to actually take legitimate pleasure out of it. The old Godzilla movies, Carry On, the original Battlestar Galactica and even 80's goofball movies such as 'Weird Science', 'Cherry 2000' and 'Howard the Duck' may have been corny and cheesy, but they still had an undeniably authentic charm to them that they wore on their sleeves which made them enjoyable to watch because of their kitsch-ness.
But it's not just the ugly vulgarity and banality of modern culture that's the problem. Art reflects life and the shallow, trite modern reflections which exist today are a stark reminder of the new politically correct enlightened establishment that seek to erase what has gone before.
We are told constantly that nothing of worth or value in life existed before year zero (20's, 60's, 90's, take your pick) because we hadn't yet woken up to the New Enlightenment of woke equality and diversity of the masses. Yet the art of the past; music, literature, painting and architecture was full of beauty and aesthetic interest and hard earned craft which reflected a different era of lasting values and ideas.
But is today's life, reduced to the lowest common denominator of mediocrity, really so much better?
At least, I have the option of going to BBC iPlayer and binge-watching Jenna Coleman in The Serpent again.
Now that's class.