Busy wandering around the local Mall listening to Classic Christmas Rock - Slade I do believe - and realising how much it has become a part of Christmas.
Not just there in the background as advertising technique, but expected. It sets a cetain mood - and, wry smile that comes to my face not withstanding, it does lift the spirits a little. The kitch and glitter is Modern Christmas and is enjoyable.
More serious music at home (I was off to buy some Bach to listen to on Christmas Morning - Eliot Gardener's version of the Christmas Cantatas). There I listen, think, contemplate - a curiously intellectual pleasure - for despite how I phrase it, the first listen-through does give a bit of a kick- and later listenings are a pleasure.
But the shock came on listening to a cheap-o I picked up in Romania a couple of day's ago: Royal Phil and a girl's school doing modern (Rutter) carols, all very nice, and exceptionally well sung which suddenly shifted to God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen . .
I felt a serious kick at that - all sorts of emotions surged around inside and a tear came: Silly Old Git I might be - but strange how it worked.
It is as if there are three types of music (or three effects ?).
And the deep level of gut feeling is buried in some experience I must have had back when a child - I have sensations of brass band and Sally Army: of shining silver and green pine - red and white.
All very odd.
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