Repetition kills

18 Jun

Every cruise along Norway’s coast has to feature a visit to Honningsvag, and every one of those visits features a stay over night in their harbour. Fortunately, I have fallen into disgrace with the manager, and therefore am not sent out to the excursion to the North Cape. Instead, while all the senior photographers are out in the field, complaining about terrible weather and photo-unwilling passengers, I stand in the empty gallery, to look at portraits, and reminisce about the terrible music choices of our cruise manager.

I’m not even talking about Folk Boy, and his exhausting repertoire of ten songs total, which he repeats for three sets in a row. No, my concern rather focuses on the twenty-odd pop songs that some lunatic plucked from the Portuguese charts, and is now blasting through the speakers all cruise day long.

piano in the cruise ship atrium

The live music aboard is mostly quite good, but the garbage that drips from the speaker system is purely annoying.

Being a songwriter myself, and an educated one at that, I have my squibs with badly written songs, and repetitive music. So, we are not off to a positive start anyway. But hearing the same stupid songs every day, for nearly two months – that has to get on the nerves of everyone who does not enjoy that particular selection of music. Listening to Norwegian college radio would be better than this horrible, mind-numbing phonic terrorism.

Example: Peniston’s “Finally”, with its slurred-out rhymes is barely even a song, and certainly not improved by its monotonous disco beat, rivalling any humping back yard squirrel in its annoyance and persistency. I don’t care how well you represent a subculture of R&B punkers – if you end your monotonous “song” with a thirty-second repetition of “Yea-eah”, without even the slightest change in volume, intonation, or timing, I have to question the intellect of a) the person who selected your music for the sixty-minute-repeat loop, and b) anyone who refuses to complain about said loop.

Isafjordur, Iceland

The only way to keep my mind together is by remembering the great outdoors.

At times like these I actually look forward to my twenty minutes in the exercise room. Normally the Spanish music channel that we receive via satellite is not something I would listen to willingly, but it certainly beats the quality of the music selection aboard. “eRTe eLLe, chinque due chinque” is a slogan that will ring in my head for years to come, and that won’t easily relate to happy memories. But at least the representatives of foreign commercial radio understand that no person alive can listen to one hour of bad pop music on repeat without stumbling brain-dead into the nearest speaker.

There you have it. Even Spanish pop radio hosts make better DJs than our audio-visually impaired cruise manager. I think I will add “music entertainment” to the list of arguments that speak (quite strongly) against an ongoing employment with ABC Cruises.


PS.: I updated the photo gallery of Honningsvag with new images from the city, and its surrounding mountains. Have a look.

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