Desert Album

It’s a nice ice breaker, “What’s your desert island album?” It’s also a nice way to let people know what music you like. That one album.

I’m not interested in yours, just as much as you don’t give two shits about mine. It’s a way to brag, or show off, really, or just make a move on someone, make them think your clever.

But let’s look at it, really look at it. One record. Small inhabitable island I I have to go there with one record. Let’s assume for a moment I actually have something to play it on and the power to do so. My battery in my phone is never charged and I never bring my phone with me so that’s a bust.

The point, of course, is to talk about your favourite music, but the last think I want to do is take my favourite music to a desert island and then hear nothing else but wind, waves, birds and my own self-mewling.

No. No, I say. Frankly if I can only take one record, I’m not going. Not that I have such a broad spectrum of musical appreciation but only one? My neighbours downstairs and one over have young kids or a kid. They have, a) a kid’s record of kids favourite songs: eieio, Twinkle Twinkle, many other recognisable hits, all in kids voices, all in Spanish.

So in both cases, the neighbours’ kid music or me stuck on an island b myself (and let’s be honest here, I already kinda am) there is no way I’m settling for just one. The kid music goes for hours some days, hours. A desert island tape would be the same. It could be something I love, but it might as well be some noise like Hootie and The Blow Crap. If I only get one, I’m not going.

We would grow to hate it. Hate it hard. So. In both cases, if anyone is packing, please take me out. Now.


Thank you, and Good Night!