I just watched two matches with the sound off. OK, now for the oil spill, then the economy.
PS: Nice piece by Daniel Trilling in the New Statesman, comparing the maligned plastic bugles with some rather more respectable uses of drone, including Penderecki’s De Natura Sonoris. (Loyal fans might recall that in Chapter 11 of my OK Computer book, I point out that the string arrangement for ‘Climbing Up The Walls’, in all its waspy, unnverving magnificence, was inspired by Penderecki’s Threnody for the Victims of Hiroshima (1960), which was also sampled on ‘You Love Us’ by the Manic Street Preachers.) But if vuvuzelas are appropriated by the musical avant garde – I can see Ornette Coleman getting into them, for example – will the armchair grouches stop complaining?
PPS: And more on the subject from the excellent Robin Tomens.
PPPS: And following on from that – vuvuzelas shit all over my adolescence.