Meghon Trainer annoys me. (I’m getting old)

by DannyUK

Is it wrong that the Meghon Trainer song that is out at the moment annoys the Hell out of me? “Dear future husband”I mean, who the Hell does she think she is, going on about what a guy has to do to get her hand in marriage?

It’s like a list of demands in lyric form. “Take me on a date. I deserve it, babe, and don’t forget the flowers every anniversary”

Bog off, woman!

It only adds to my bad mood knowing that her previous songs were just as irritating.  “All about the bass” may have been enormously catchy, but it was also enormously annoying.

Her second single, “Lips are moving”, was just as bad.

Maybe I should be a little less precious about it, and perhaps my annoyance is largely irrational.

I’m pretty sure when I was younger lyrics were better, music sounded like music and I sounded like less of an old man than I do now.

Mind you, when I was younger, Mr Blobby reached the top of the charts (Main lyrics: “Blobby, Mr Blobby”), and so did Doop.  (Only lyric: “Doop”).

We also had Cotton Eyed Joe.  To this day, no-one is quite sure what the lyrics to that are, and any attempt at karaoke involves sounding like a robot voice having some kind of breakdown as it tries to speak a language that humans will never understand.

It’s a growing reflection of my age.

From the archives

Mini mid-life crisis.

I recently listened to Google Music Play which had a playlist of the fifty most streamed songs at the time.  I think I recognised a total of two of the songs by name, and maybe as many as five that I recognised when they were played.

This is what happens as you age, kids.  I went from Capital, Heart and Radio 1 to Radio 2, and subsequently to Radio 4, the latter two stations of which still have almost all of my listening hours.

I still feel like a kid inside.  I often think of myself being in my early twenties, and not my late thirties.  I even act like  a kid sometimes.

That is, until I try to get up out of a chair, at which stage I start acting like I’m in my mid-60s as every small movement is acted out with the sounds of a small symphony of pain and aching where - God forbid - I’ve sat down for more than five minutes and everything has seized up.

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