77 Bombay Street – someone make them stop!

Every so often a song comes out that becomes the bane of my life.

Try as I might to avoid it, the incessant radio plays mean I keep hearing it at the swimming pool, dentist and supermarket – places  where I am a captive audience.

It’s the musical equivalent of a turd that you can’t flush away.

The offending tune, this time, is Up In The Sky by a Swiss band called 77 Bombay Street named after a home in Adelaide where the Buchli family  lived for two years.

Three of the four members are part of a family of nine which raises the spectre of one or all of the other six deciding to follow in their brothers’ footsteps.

They dress like extras in Sergeant Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band  and the relentless jollity of this tune together with lyrics of mind-numbing banality made me hate it on first hearing.

They sing of a blue village far away in the sky where people love to sing and where there’s no need for a king. Just when you think that this is a vision of heaven the priests forgot to tell us about, they throw in a googly with the following stanza :

Up in the sky
There’s no religion
There are no cars and no phones and you cannot be controlled
Up in the sky you just feel fine
There’s no money-making crime but a lot of good wine.

In other words it is a vision of a Godless immortality where you can drink and be merry but probably have to gather round in smiley-happy groups singing inane songs like this.  It makes the fires of hell seem like an attractive option.

There’s not even the consolation that this is a one-off monstrosity. Another song of theirs is called I Love Lady Gaga the lyrics of which name check all the pop stars they love from Miley Cyrus to Rihanna  – the only glimmer of hope is that the list includes the abrasive German metal band Rammstein.

In the interests of public health, this post contains no links to You Tube videos of either tune. Check them out if you dare!

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