playful foxery

I know that music feeds the heart, it is the ideal companion for various moods, it makes you dream, it allows you to share joyful sensations with other people, it is a balm for loneliness, those things. But as an irredeemable troglodyte, I am not able to perceive the beauty in the music that young people consume now, the one that floods the radio stations and television programs, and it must have art and charm when the melomania of the crowds is identifies with those sounds and letters, but I have already given up on those styles transforming my hermit existence. To rap and hip hop, reggaeton, trap, drill and other genres with universal success. The musicians who have always accompanied me are dead or on the verge of retirement. I want to think that many castaways will continue to listen to what they gave birth in the coming centuries, that there will always be someone in love with the beauty that accompanies classicism. And that concept encompasses jazz, rock, and classical music. All of them forgotten or in exile.

Nor have I ever been able to enroll in some popular cults regarding music, events that capture the fervor of the common people. They slip, repel me or make me blush since I was little. For example: the Eurovision and Benidorm festivals, the program Triumph operation, so many competitions that make its massive audience sigh, all of them very patriotic. Lately, a dominant and powerful clientele imposed by the sign of the times has turned to them.

But they make so much noise that it is impossible not to notice. For example, a song that seems like an idiot that has pitted avant-garde militants against the classics of feminism. A blonde lady with a forgettable voice arrogantly proclaims her love for the fox, the ultimate symbol of freedom. She is accompanied dancing by some big men dressed in rhinestone thongs and shaved asses. And even the President of the Government, so overwhelmed by exclusively earthly issues, has time to give his humorous opinion on such a supposedly subversive song. He claims that feminism is not only fair but also fun and provocative. Dylan, Van Morrison and Tom Waits have not yet expressed what they think of the song. It seems that Cicero felt desolate in the Catilinarias when exclaiming: “Oh times! Oh customs!” Well, that's what I feel too, even though I don't have his eloquence.

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