Sound Market

For some reason, this morning Mrs H and I were discussing examples of pop music from our past which has been both horrible listen to but impossible to erase from the memory. We agreed that it would have been much better not to have wasted that memory capacity on such abysmal rubbish.

I suppose the discussion arose from Mrs H wondering who sang My Boy Lollipop and why something so ghastly still lurks at the back her mind decades later. I’m not even going to provide a link to it.

Who was the worst ever female singer though? That was the question we asked each other over slightly over-roasted coffee and a bun. Mrs H insists it was Cilla Black and I’m not prepared to argue although there are plenty of other potential candidates. It reminded me of an Alexa incident a few days ago.

Our TV prompted me to ask Alexa to play some relaxing music, so without thinking through the possibilities I did. Before I managed to switch the thing off, it played about ten seconds of someone called Billie Eilish who is famous apparently. I don’t know why, even worse than Cilla in my view. Few of us can avoid it altogether and maybe we shouldn’t, but there is something horribly revealing about entertainment.