WHO are the people that television channels trot out to make comments. They’re supposedly experts  but, as a rule, tend to be the sort of comedians who are about as funny as gangrene.
Tonight I’ve been watching a tribute to “Top of the Pops” on BBC4. I’ve struggled to believe a great deal of what I’ve heard. I’ve witnessed a succession of smug, self-satisfied, self-styled stars having a go at a programme that was a staple of my weekly television from 1964 until the mid-1980s.
They all complained about the choice of music. For all their supposed intelligence they struggled to understand the central tenet of the programme. It was called “Top of the Pops” because all the music was from the charts. It was never meant to be anything else. So, if the good people of the UK decided to buy such modern classics as “Save All Your Kisses for Me” or “Shaddap You Face”, they had to be included.
One of the bozoes they lined up suggested that in 1976 the young of Great Britain couldn’t understand why the programme didn’t reflect what was happening – rising unemployment, cuts, that kind of thing. Well, I was 19 in 1976, and even though I was studying for a degree in history and politics, I was largely concerned with football, a few pints down the pub and, well, girls.
Music was about enjoyment. It was usually a backdrop to attempts (99 per cent unsuccessful) to find girls. It was about being mega-serious.
Then they talked about punk being the reaction to out pseudo-middle class complacency, Okay. But whenever I now hear the Sex Pistols or Poly Styrene or whoever, it makes me feel all warm and happy. I’m about to turn 54 and punk reminds me of happy secure days long before mortgages and wage cuts.
And how many punk stars sold out to capitalism? Carl Wayne, the wild lead singer of The Move became a crooner and married Miss Diane from “Crossroads”. The Who’s Roger Daltrey bought a salmon nursery and used to advertise credit cards.
All right, there have always been musical snobs. I still meet middle-aged men who believe only they know what good music is. To me, all music is noise. If it makes you happy it’s good. If you don’t like it, it’s bad. For me, music is something I listen to while I’m driving.
So all you television pundits, take a chill pill. Just think how lucky you are that a television company will pay you to air your views because, at the end of the day, who cares.
Oh, and by the way, what was wrong with letching at Pan’s People? Dearie me those were happy days.