Doing a spot of channel hopping earlier this evening, I inadvertently hopped into the televisual equivalent of hell on Earth: an extended Top of the Pops archive show. John Bunyan’s Slough of Despond doesn’t even come close. Perhaps the Midden of Misery would just about cut it.
The best thing you can do with programmes like this, apart from hopping off somewhere else, is to watch with the sound off. I’m amazed at how much more ridiculous all the rock star posturing and so-called dancing appears when you remove the distraction of the occasional good tune or witty lyric.
But sometimes a quick name change can make a bad* band good:
‘Look who’s on Top of the Pops,’ I said. Shana looked. ‘Yes, it’s the Motherhood of Bran!’ I said.
Silly me for not realising at the time though. If it’s bran, then they must have been on Top of the Poops.
* Actually, they weren’t really bad…
They were awful 🙂