John Miles (musician)
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“The man who put the poser into composer”
“The man who put the sick in music”
John Miles (born John Errington, 23 April 1949, Jarrow, Tyne & Wear, England) is an unemployed Brit that dreamed about being a fine and successful musician when he was a child, He is still dreaming the dream. He is the son of John Cage and Miles Davis.
edit Career and accomplishments
John Miles as a person is probably one of the least noticeable people in music. He is so mindbogglingly unimportant that actually having an article written that even contains his name is hard to justify. Considering the following reasons this article itself should be huffed with great prejudice :
- nearly 99% of John Miles works are unknown boring flops
- John Miles never accomplished anything of great importance
- John Miles is an atrocious musician
The only reason why he could be mentioned in any article is because one of his works that , incredibly, had some unintentional and unfortunate minor success. The song Music that he flung together with Alan Parsons is the only known piece of empirical evidence that explains why certain pieces of music suck big donkey weenie.
The song known to some as Music ( was my first love ) is a collection of :
- boring elements
- cheap musical tricks
- fanfare style cliches
- self absorbed lyrical contents
- ultra simple repetitive patterns
This tune could be seen as the worst song ever written in the universe.
edit Lyrical analysis
Music was my first love And it will be my last
The sad bastard can't get a boyfriend and feels the urge to bore us to death with this trivial information. He also, correctly, predicts that he will, in fact, never succeed at getting one.
Music of the future And music of the past
In these lines the pretentious prick claims he can scope the entire spectrum of all music that has been and that will be composed ,regardless of complexity or genre. This of course is loony. Judging by his own pitiful accomplishments and compositions John Miles could not even grasp the difference between a woodblock and a tin whistle.
To live without my music Would be impossible to do
Yes and no, this is a tough one. I for one can imagine that I could, indeed, live very comfortably without his music without any difficulty at all. Thinking about it a bit more, I figure that living without John Miles' music is just about the single easiest thing I can think of doing anytime. On the other hand, in the real world, not the hypothetical perfect one where John Miles does not exist ( or at least is tone-deaf, O wait, he is ..( or at least is a plumber )), it can be argued that it is , in fact, impossible to live without his crap music because every bloody classic rock radio station airs that stupid song about 5 times a day.
In this world of troubles My music pulls me through
The first line could be the beginning of a deep and philosophical look upon the world and it's problems. This is the point where the song could actually contained some proper content and meaning but, alas, it does not. Line number 2 in the part of the verse makes it very clear that is just more whining on Johns behalf about how his live is rotten and how sitting alone in his shed with a crappy Spanish guitar to prevent himself from committing suicide.
< Insert every musical cliche rock opera gimmick here >
Music was my first love And it will be my last Music of the future And music of the past And music of the past And music of the past
For the most part the entire song is just as Philip Glass repetitive as any Philip Glass piece, albeit much much more shallow But the last three lines are of interest. Here John Miles, be it consciously or not, clearly admits being partial to music of the past. This statement clearly shows him being very narrow minded about modern music and makes the possibility that he is a right wing Nazi conservative bastard very very likely.
Music was my blaaa blaaahh And it will be blaaah blaaa Music of the jaddaaaaah And music of blablaaaagg
more or less the same crap from John, over and over again.
To Blaah without my Jadaaaaah Would be jakkedy to do Cause in this blaah of blooblooh My music bleeeps me blooooh
The continuation of more whining and cliches which go on for just about 6 minutes. Thats 360 seconds of boring pretentious rock opera masturbatory drivel set loose upon the world.
All Lyrics , no matter how dumb or silly , are owned by there respective owners, ( well duhh ). ( Even the stupid part about the music of the past )
edit Musical analysis
The vocal part of the song is made up of 4 simple chords that John probably stole from some popular sound at the time. The lyrics are clearly forced and very shallow. The musical composition is worst then most budget Casio keyboard demo songs and to call it gay would be a clear insult to the entire gay community. So lets call it Freckenly Voktastic.
The instrumental part that goes like this :
dah dah da dadah dadah da
and the poorly constructed climactic buildup sound just like
thu thu thu thu thu thu thuuuuuuuuuuuuu
After the orchestral buildup one could expect something big or at least for some proper music to begin, unfortunately this is not the case. At the end of the instrumental part, that feels like it went on for decades, the entire song starts over again. The actual song is, in fact, just 2 minutes long were it not that Miles repeats it over and over again.
It is a god-awful drama of cliches and cheap patterns to liven the things up which, of of course fails. And it goes on and on and on and on and on forever. And then when you think it has stopped. IT STILL GOES ON AND ON AND ON.
Though written purely in jest , should this article been genuine , the following thing would have still been true about this song.
- People get suicidal when listening to this song.
- It is a galactic fucking bad song that did not deserve to have been printed on vinyl.
- It is so immensely bad that if it had been written in shyte that would have been too good for it.
- A parody of the song, no matter how funny would still stick of rotting goat utters.
The main conclusion of this analysis must be that it is proven ( again ) that self referencing music or simple Music about music sucks hard enough to make even deaf peoples ears bleed. So called musicians like John Miles are after nothing more that a cheap ego trip to make up for there lack of talent or success. This is also the main reason why rap is such a nauseating style of music for the most part.
- Music ( was my first love ) 5:59 - 1976
- Greatest hit - Music 5:59 - 1977
- Music ( radio edit ) 2:30 - 1978
- Music ( extended version ) 74:00 - 1982
- Music Feat. Elton john 5.59 - 1983
- Night of the proms ( MUSIC ) Half a hour - 1985
- Night of the proms ( MUSIC ) 2 hours - 1986
- Night of the proms ( MUSIC ) still ongoing - 1987
- Still at it at Night of the proms. - 2066
edit See also
( I can't possibly put music in here, since the song music clearly does not qualify for, nor is worthy of such linkage )