Pan Pipes My Arse
I remember as a green immigrant in Munich at the tail end of the '80s, being utterly captivated from time to time by the roving bands of Peruvian buskers with their exotic stringed instruments and batteries of pan pipes. They generally ran in packs of 9 to 15 persons with each specializing upon his own instrument. Oh my young mind fairly swam with images of the high Andes and the soaring Condor, a lump never far from my pink Scottish throat and my hackles more often than not teased to an erect state at the heartfelt sound of the traditional tunes they played.
Then over the years, as the world became a more familiar place to me and I ascertained that seeing them in other countries was no coincidence, there was a dawning realization that the fuckers were everywhere. Some were as good as the ones in Munich, some seemed a little lacklustre here and there but hey, we all gotta eat and I could live in a world with countless roving packs of tiny Incas in ponchos and immensely brimmed hats. But if there's one set of things I hate, folks, it's fucking laziness, musical mediocrity and greed. And this is what I'm starting to think: Peruvian buskers are a lot of bloody rubbish nowadays. And greedy.
They average two or three to a pack now, they've done away almost completely with the interesting ut hard-to-master stringed instruments, preferring to milk the living shit out of the pan flute and strum lazily along on shite electric guitars with tacky chorus pedal effects. All of that is bad enough but sweet baby Jesus, it's the backing tracks that've replaced the other ten members of the pack that bother me the most. I saw a set today that were taking half hour breaks, leaving the backing tape running and if they hadn't been sitting on their lazy little arses there drinking coffee, you wouldn't have known they weren't there. The backing tape has everything: drums, bass, panflute, guitar... I'm not sure the little bastards aren't just miming now, you know? Lazy, gotten, so they are. Oh! and gone, also, are the haunting traditional tunes. Lately they appear willing to reach no further than Gheorghe Zamfir's back catalogue and playing endless variations of the Simon And Garfunkel pan-heavy classic "El Condor Pasa".
And before I end this rant, what the fuck is with them dressing up like dime store Indians from a Henry Ford western allasudden? Gone are the poncho and humble fieldhand titfer and in their place are fringed buckskin suits, gaudy beads, costume-shop Sitting Bull head dresses and face make-up! These today had a girl doing the hoop dance! What does the culture of north American plains Indians have to do with pan pipery? I've had it. To quote Corrie hero, butcher Fred Eliott "They'll not get a peh....ah say they'll not get another penny outta meeeee..."
I remember as a green immigrant in Munich at the tail end of the '80s, being utterly captivated from time to time by the roving bands of Peruvian buskers with their exotic stringed instruments and batteries of pan pipes. They generally ran in packs of 9 to 15 persons with each specializing upon his own instrument. Oh my young mind fairly swam with images of the high Andes and the soaring Condor, a lump never far from my pink Scottish throat and my hackles more often than not teased to an erect state at the heartfelt sound of the traditional tunes they played.
Then over the years, as the world became a more familiar place to me and I ascertained that seeing them in other countries was no coincidence, there was a dawning realization that the fuckers were everywhere. Some were as good as the ones in Munich, some seemed a little lacklustre here and there but hey, we all gotta eat and I could live in a world with countless roving packs of tiny Incas in ponchos and immensely brimmed hats. But if there's one set of things I hate, folks, it's fucking laziness, musical mediocrity and greed. And this is what I'm starting to think: Peruvian buskers are a lot of bloody rubbish nowadays. And greedy.
They average two or three to a pack now, they've done away almost completely with the interesting ut hard-to-master stringed instruments, preferring to milk the living shit out of the pan flute and strum lazily along on shite electric guitars with tacky chorus pedal effects. All of that is bad enough but sweet baby Jesus, it's the backing tracks that've replaced the other ten members of the pack that bother me the most. I saw a set today that were taking half hour breaks, leaving the backing tape running and if they hadn't been sitting on their lazy little arses there drinking coffee, you wouldn't have known they weren't there. The backing tape has everything: drums, bass, panflute, guitar... I'm not sure the little bastards aren't just miming now, you know? Lazy, gotten, so they are. Oh! and gone, also, are the haunting traditional tunes. Lately they appear willing to reach no further than Gheorghe Zamfir's back catalogue and playing endless variations of the Simon And Garfunkel pan-heavy classic "El Condor Pasa".
And before I end this rant, what the fuck is with them dressing up like dime store Indians from a Henry Ford western allasudden? Gone are the poncho and humble fieldhand titfer and in their place are fringed buckskin suits, gaudy beads, costume-shop Sitting Bull head dresses and face make-up! These today had a girl doing the hoop dance! What does the culture of north American plains Indians have to do with pan pipery? I've had it. To quote Corrie hero, butcher Fred Eliott "They'll not get a peh....ah say they'll not get another penny outta meeeee..."