The point of no return?
I have just ordered a Matt Monro compilation CD. Now, that’s a sentence I never thought I’d type. This may mean any one (or more) of several possibilities:
a) I’ve finally grown up and acknowledged that good music may actually exist within the realm of what I previously considered schmaltz (me being dead hip and all).
b) I have finally given up and acknowledged that I am getting old (I’m 62 you know!).
c) I’ve secretly thought, for many years, that Matt Monro was a damned fine singer, and that I’m just coming out of the closet, so to speak. (I actually prefer Matt’s voice to the vastly over-rated Frank Sinatra’s.)
d) I’ve finally lost the plot altogether, and when this CD hits the player for the first time, I’ll never be able to listen to my previous material in the same way, ever again.
I think that a) and c) are closest to what I’d like to think, but b) and d) can’t be dismissed completely. I’ve been hearing lots of that kind of material recently and finding much to like about it. “When I Fall In Love” by Nat King Cole, for example, is a wonderful song. “Moon River”, likewise.
Has anyone else here got similar guilty secrets?