Day 9: The Sound Of The Underground

I crept back into the container to sleep, not trusting the strange sounds of this island. Hunger did over-take me the night before though and I trapped, killed and skinned one of those strange rodents which had been over-friendly. I suppose my actions were not friendly back but needs must. The creature tasted almost, if not completely, unlike chicken.

After breakfasting on some berries which looked if not tasted like juniper, I decided to head into the interior for signs of life. The jungle was think by the beach, and an hour of struggling I probably only made it half a mile. However I did soon come across a clearing, where there were copious signs of life. And what some might call signs of death. Blood splattered copies of the Complete Works Of Shakespeare were strewn all around the clearing. Bones were also apparent, as was one badly mauled rotting corpse. I must admit I was somewhat overcome by these signs. What could cause such carnage, and why so much Shakespeare.

It was then I noticed to the south of the clearing was the mouth of a large, dark cave. I made a makeshift torch out of a leg-bone and some rags and peered inside. Tracks of some inhumanly large creature were apparent, apparently dragging something. That was frightening enough, but what was worse was the sounds. Strange guttural belching, swooping yelps and primal, primitive drumming all mixed in and out of one another. It sounded a bit like the Band Of The Royal Marines playing Jerusalem. Whatever it was, it girded my loins. Was my task on this trip around the world to destroy music wherever I discovered it. This might not be music, this noise from underground, but that would qualify well over fifty percent of the UK Charts at any one point in time. Hatred can double up for bravery, and so I head for the source of these noises from Hades, these hellish Sounds Of The Underground.

GIRLS ALOUD: The Sound Of The Underground

The strange rag-bag of sounds I heard from underground were apposite when you consider Girls Aloud career. A kind of all girl Frankensteins monster of a pop band, taking choice cuts of The Stray Cats, Dick Dale and Mink De Ville. I can imagine these girls, dressed in their Top Shop glamoflage, mugging old rockers just to steal their ideas.

The mugging I have no trouble with. But why piece it together to make sub-Spice Girls tat? Why not just leave the fogey lying in the gutter and join me down the pub? Take the Sound Of The Underground. Its My Sharona for people who have not got anyone called Sharona. I have heard tube trains and they do not sound like this. Indeed the sound of tube trains is so thoroughly unmusical that if it weren’t for Down In A Tube Station At Midnight, I could happily live down there. Well, and the buskers.