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Static
I thought I was a fool for no one
But oh baby, I’m a fool for you
You’re the Queen of the superficial
But how long before you tell the truth?
Oo-ah, you set my soul alight
— Muse, Supermassive Black Hole
One of the most stunning songs of 2006, no doubt, has to be the aforementioned tune by Brit space rockers Muse. Taken from the equally textured, finely crafted album Black Holes and Revelations, the tune is a wonderful example of experimental song-writing that has enough punch to make an impact on the pop charts as well. Bravo, Muse!
In the past, I had never paid much mind to Muse and/or their machinations. But this album definitely made me and a lot of other people stand up and take notice. I don’t know if it’s made it to these shores, but thankfully, I secured a copy through that trusty old friend of mine, Pirate Premnath. A true friend when one is in need of cheap aural nourishment. You see, I rarely get excited about new music, as most of the stuff I listen to was recorded before 1992. Call me old-fashioned, call me a fascist. Call me what you will. I’ll consider it a worthy sacrifice in the name of good taste. But enough about me, let’s get back to Muse.
Originally hailing from Devon, England, the trio of Matthew Bellamy, Dominic Howard, and Chris Wolstenholme have, according to reports, departed from their earlier sound on this, their fourth studio release. As with all other areas in life, growth, experimentation and trial are good things. At least most of the time. The album has a decidedly otherworldly feel to it, combining elements of traditional rock structure with prog rock and electronic textures. Bellamy’s lyrics are also noticeable, considering his fascination with theology, the Apocalypse and conspiracy theories. All incredibly tasty themes, if you ask me.
Accompanying the tune is a mouth-watering video, directed by Canadian-Italian Floria Sigismondi, who’s worked with such notable characters as David Bowie, Marilyn Manson and the White Stripes. A florid, yet innately dark, contemplative piece, it has to be one of the top video clips of 2006, along with of course the Editors’ tasteful Munich, which, by the way, has nothing to do with Spielberg’s period thriller. Rounding off this eulogy to Muse and their fantastic record, I have to mention the remarkable cover art. It’s been designed by Storm Thorgerson, also known as Hipgnosis, the man behind some of Pink Floyd’s most memorable covers, including those of Dark Side of the Moon and Wish You Were Here. This album, along with its appendages, should be remembered way down the line, at least by connoisseurs, if not by the fickle multitudes.
Onwards to more pressing demands. Now, one often reads in the press, sermons by the self-anointed priests of liberalism and gaiety that we, as a nation, hate fun and frivolity. With this, I would tend to agree somewhat, as we need to loosen up a tad (not morally, but psychologically, mind you, as our morals tend to be quite fast and loose as it is). We as a nation need to smile more, and be considerate with each other.
A writer just last week wrote in this paper about our unfortunate slip down the slippery slope of barbarity and insensitivity. Again, I agree, as due to multiple reasons ( … economic disparity, terrorism, ignorance, milk selling for Rs32 a litre …) we have become a rather grouchy, monstrously cold lot. But when it comes to having fun, I think the reality of the matter is that we love having fun … at other peoples’ expense, that is.
Let me narrate the woeful tale of a dear friend. My friend lives in one of Karachi’s middle class suburbs, one renowned for the educated, down-to-earth nature of most of its residents. The kind of neighbourhood where a bit of old-world middle class values are still extant, unlike the desperate situation of the lower rungs of society, and the gaudiness of the nouveau and landed rich. But unfortunately, this former leafy suburb is fast losing out to the ne’er satisfied forces of commercialisation.
In the Holy Book we are told, the fire of hell asks the Creator, ‘hal min mazeed’ (give me more), referring to more kindling in the form of evildoers. Much like the fires of hell, the forces of avarice are never satisfied, and if it were up to them, this whole city would be one giant, monstrous shopping mall surrounded by acres of parking lots. Praise the Lord we’re not there. Yet.
Anyhow, the neighbourhood in question has been besieged by schools, shaadi halls and other commercial establishments, transforming plots clearly marked for residential purposes. But that’s not my point, as senior journalists have raised this point much more articulately than I. My original thesis was enjoying ourselves at the expense of others. Getting back to that, my friend narrated a tale of how recently, he and his family were kept awake into the un-Godly hours by neighbours who had pitched a tent in the adjacent galli to hold a ‘variety show’ to celebrate a wedding. Needless to say, the diabolical carolling that was part of this ‘variety show’ kept the whole family, nay the whole neighbourhood, awake.
This act of civic brutality was soon followed by the antics of a shaadi hall located close by. At first, a nikah was solemnised over the microphone (why all of District Central had to hear of the conjugal terms, it remains a mystery), after which a loud ruckus consisting of the latest Indian filmi item numbers followed, also late into the night. I’m sure that instead of earning the blessings of the neighbourhood for this happy occasion, the guilty parties earned heaps of the choicest curses the Urdu language has to offer.
This is just a tiny sampling of the insensitivity we as a society have begun to display. People in the West also have fun, and dare I say lots more of it than we. But while neither condoning nor condemning their practices, one must say that their fun and games are limited to nightclubs and other such hangouts, where they can party till the break of dawn while not disturbing others. If a party or gathering in a private home gets rowdy or out of hand, one can instantly call the cops without fear of retribution.
In most Western countries, there are noise control laws, where one can complain to the powers that be if revelry continues past, say, 11pm or midnight. Yes, the West isn’t exactly a replica of Eden, but let’s at least adopt their good traits, since we have forgotten our own values and adopted the West as our qiblah.
With this I end, with (little) hope of things changing. But at least I did my part. Oh yes, and many congratulations to Marty for scoring with The Departed, even though he should have really won for Taxi Driver back in the day. Not to speak of the visual brilliance of Kundun. Ah well, better late than never.
— QAM
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