I recently heard a well-known broadcaster, radio host, football eccentricities expert, TV meddler and wise-ass say that he’s heard enough good music. Well, nobody likes a wise-ass, don’t you know.

I think his point is that, at his age – roughly the same as mine and best described as ‘of a certain age’, depending on that day’s medication – and having lived through and been a part of some seminal music eras, he feels like he doesn’t really need anything new.

Of course, this is part of the theory that there are only so many notes in the musical scale and all that happens is that they are rearranged in a different order with new haircuts and shoes.

His brain-mind is filled with endless guitar and drum solos and rock reincarnations. Is there any room for any more?

Contrast this view with that of the late, great spin-master general John Peel, who rose every morning and sniffed the air like a freaky meerkat. That incredibly intuitive nose would invariably lead him to something fresh, different and vibrant.

Peel would play it, and to hell with even his listeners’ pleasure. Ironically, Peel lived through the exact same musical eras of the aforementioned broadcaster, but never lost his desire for wandering off the well-worn track.

Champion of the new, Bolan-Bowie-Stooges-Pistols-Clash-Smiths-hip-hop, and every kind of ‘world music’ you could possibly think of. Don’t like Portuguese fado? Hang on a minute – try some ethereal Bulgarian folk singing.

Music needs youth. Youth needs music. Thankfully these days they have it in abundance.

Hmmm, interesting. Now go away and find something.

Image by Andrew Hunt.

Brian Rooney