Risky business...

I'm listening through the latest addition to my collaborative playlist in Spotify that I've been rather actively moderating over the last couple of months. As soon as Brother Louie finish playing I will head to bed, pull a muscle, and go to sleep. Maybe. It brings back good memories, this one. I had, and I say had because the events that grew into these memories are all in the past, a friend who introduced me to Modern Talking on a Pioneer musical monster with blue flashy lights and a vertical CD-tray with motion sensor. It was really, really cool, and I remember that the music streaming from the speakers was gay, to say the least.

But that's Modern Talking for you. It's a flashback of the early 00's for me, and to the older generation the 80's. For some surreal reason these guys, who so smoothly and leathery cried their way into any disco dancing donna's home, decided to return 10 years later with the same old songs which got them famous in the first place, reproduced with a crispy gramophone sound, to make it sound even older than it actually is. Another 10 years later they performed the same stunt again, completely shameless, this time with a black guy (Eric Singletong) singing along with the proper hood-sound.

Now I know this is nothing new to the music industry. Old bands, and new bands, have re:released their albums over and over again, not only to haul us memory laners in again, but to attract new audiences, younger listeners, who weren't alive to buy the LP's the first time around, or the CD's the second time. With the online era I hope this terribly bad way of recycling old men with new leather jackets will finally die out. Once released on the Internet, it will always be there, somehow, available forever.

If you want to remain up to date, remixing your own 20 year old songs and spray bottled tan on your wrinkly cheeks would qualify as risky business.