“The Beatles still sell for €5,99” and other tales of everlastingness

I noticed on my visit to the music shop today that a new batch of low-price The Beetles CDs had arrived. Now I already own all of The Beatles, so I really had no reason to pick up the disc set to inspect it, but I did and one thing stood out: a €5,99 price tag; which is roughly 8 or £5 or ₹500 I suppose. It is fascinating how a rock band that was active for ten years sells, nearly forty years later, for the same price as <a title="My World - enhanced -7 on Amazon” href=”http://www.amazon.com/My-World-Justin-Bieber/dp/B002T921AC” target=”_blank”>Beiber’s enhanced My World disc on Amazon.

Without meaning disrespect to anybody, I think that this shows just how popular The Beetles had become by the time they broke-up. In contradistinction, it is an issue of concern that every music group’s gospel — performing every single one of the Beeth’s excruciatingly hard-to-perform symphonies — sells far cheaper than the mediocre music made today solely for cash. Perhaps that is because everybody does it; but should repetition of a classic make it any less of a classic?

Speaking of Beethoven, I recently answered myself a question that had been bothering me: what on earth does Beethoven mean? As it turns out, Beeth is beetroot (yes), and hof is farm. So that gentleman we all so admire is Ludwig from Beetroot Farm.

But are classics really held far less worthy, or does everything modern generally take precedence when it comes to setting prices, or are our tastes as a society changing, or should there exist a very different kind of motivation to last, as former US Labour Secretary, Lynn Martin, put it:

No matter what your religion, you should try to become a government program, for then you will have everlasting life.

Even more interesting is that most of what we listen to today may be heavily modified; whether it is really done that way or not, nobody can deny that we have enough technology today to make person X sound a million times better than he really is, especially if that Mr X agrees to hand over the producers a greater percentage of profits than the better-sounding-poorly-sharing and more deserving artiste, Y.

I have, bookmarked, this 1919 photograph of Cxechoslovakian violinist and composer, Jan Kubelik, from sometime back. It really is a reminder that we came from a time when state-of-the-art music refinement was done using cones taped to reduce reverberation.

Jan Kubelik (R) with Bruno Seidler-Winkler at the Piano.
Photo courtesy Flickr/painting in light

Today, refinement has come from meaning getting musicians’ unadulterated sound to helping them by making it sound better. It has become Photoshop for audio.

A counter argument I can suggest myself is that the term classics is too loosely defined. Our renaissance classics were modern works during the renaissance. While desperate efforts were being made to save the then-classics, what was really being celebrated — being the centre of attention — during the renaissance was the day’s absolute modern attempts at art.

It then does not seem far fetched to say that Beiber may become a classic singer around the 2050s or later. And we are only paranoid in saying the classics are on a decline. Or that they are in any way comparable to today’s approach to art and society — both of which have inherently changed a lot between the 16th and 21st centuries.

But even such an argument does little to explain why The Beetle’s low-price disc should sell for close to €6.

 Cover image: Flickr/erin 

The quest for a music cassette, “The power of love”

Everybody’s childhood has something they hold onto even after considerable years. Mine lives in a bucket under the stairway at home, but that is only one part of it. The other is missing.

A thing of the past

Funnily enough, what I call a part of my childhood was never really mine; it even dates back nearly a decade before mine. It was a little, red music cassette known as “The Power of Love” and belonged to my parents.

Once I got around, I used to carry it with me and play it over and over again in-between my classic children’s tales cassette on my personal Phillips Walkman. I was no older than six years of age. And I understood very little of whatever they said in those songs, but it did not matter: for me, it has always been about the music, the rhythm, the tone, the pitch and the feel.

When things begin to change

The songs in that cassette stayed for a very long time until, when I was just reaching around nine or ten, we moved house and a lot of cassettes and large, black, gorgeous looking vinyl records (among other things) either got unwound, broke or were lost. This was one of them. There was also a large, posh-looking gramophone from my grandfather’s era that we got rid of.

Sometimes, when I walk around in melancholy, I can still hear those tunes at the back of my mind. But I realise it is only an illusion; an innocent (freudian?) manifestation of my yearning to get that cassette back.

Amazon lists this under the name Power of Love but neither the art nor the songs match the one I am looking for.

It is most prominent when I come across select songs, and I seem to know them. It is not a déjà vu, it is quite real, because I can pause playback and hum through the song (sometimes right to the end) even when I am listening to it the first time. Of course, this does not happen with every song, just a couple of them, or three at best, in an entire year.

My explanation is that I listened to those songs for so long, it is in my subconscious — just like how we remember bits of history even if we never took out a book and dedicated years to study it. Now, when I actually want to buy that cassette, I cannot: nobody makes cassettes anymore. Things have begun to change, but that is not even the weirdest part yet.

Another novel quest

If you remember I was once stuck with a song playing itself repeatedly in my mind and a brief quest and a lot of examination later, I learnt that it was a Japanese song used most popularly in the film “In the mood for love”. This was back in late 2010. About a year later, during a local film showcasing, my friend, Raghul, and I actually watched that film and I, for one, loved it.

Now that made me launch a quest back in 2011, to search for this cassette and buy it at any cost. I have looked up and down, turned the earth inside out, asked people, poked them to answer, tweeted, traced sources whenever I heard a familiar song and generally jumped around in vain.

A.K.A. fine times
Photo courtesy: Flickr/Freshly Diced

Having searched for two whole years now, I can confidently state that that music cassette does not exist.

How does something just vanish into thin air? I even remember the cover art and a couple of songs, so, as yet another try, I am going to describe the first and put down the latter before you.

Roses and wings

I distinctly remember that the cassette cover had a red rose on it, with the letters The Power of Love written in white. It was, I think, volume 2, but do not quote me on that. I remember the font was something very similar to Elephant.

Several aggregation, chronicling and e-store services from last.fm to Amazon list a product by name “(The) Power of Love”, but none of them are the one I am looking for. My indication? I am positive there was no Luther Vandross song in my old cassette.

And how do I know what was in there? I recognise some faintly, while others my mother or my father (both who owned the cassette in their youth and adulthood and not as kids of six years) who are clearly better judges at recalling their own (rather vast, I should say) music collection, tell me in passing that some song I happen to be listening to was in their collection way back when.

Photo courtesy: Andrevruas (own work) [CC-BY-3.0 or GFDL], via Wikimedia Commons


I can say for sure that some of my current favourites (none of which are current songs) were in it: there was Cyndi Lauper’s “Time after time”, Bette Middler’s “Wind beneath my wings”, George Michael’s “Faith”, George Benson’s “Nothing’s gonna change my love”, Kieth Whitley’s “When you say nothing at all”, Paebo Bryson’s “Tonight, I celebrate my love”, MLTR’s “Paint my love”, Chris deBurg’s “A lady in red”, Richard Marx’s “Right here waiting” and a version of “Green, green grass of home”, among many others.


From the songs, it is apparent that the cassette was an early- or mid-80s release, and that timeline fits perfectly. I actually have a list of more songs somewhere, but these are the ones that come to mind right now, as I write this, too lazy to fetch the list itself.

Unfortunately, my quest to track this cassette down has not been very successful so far; but it is far from over. My sole reason for writing this and requesting you to take your time to read this is if you already know, or happen to stumble upon this cassette anywhere, do send it my way.

A favour begets a favour. Besides, this will fit in a lost piece of a jigsaw perfectly.

 Cover image: Flickr/Coralí Cros 


IQ comes with strings attached

Eddie Rodriguez, for Cracked.com, wrote an amusing, yet interesting, article titled 5 Unexpected Downsides of Intelligence. It was interesting, but you know how cracked.com articles can be: playfully funny at first look, with some reading between the lines heavily demanded. So I decided to examine the five traits in a more–perhaps the best way to put it would be conservative–manner (not using expletives, that is, for I absolutely detest them!) Continue…