Canadian Music Wake

Last week was Canadian Music Week - a grim few days where the great and the good of the conference merry-go-round converged on Toronto to discuss ways in which they could screw their constomers. The latest ruse is to remove file-sharers' internet access. The cunning plan is to make the ISPs responsible for policing online piracy with a three strikes and your out law. If you're caught trying to download an obscure northern soul track that is commercially unavailable three times, that's it, no more internet access for you sunshine. Overlooking the obvious marketing benefits of P2P, the fact that most P2P users buy far more music than your average Joe and the sheer insanity of persecuting people who still consider music to be a vital, exciting, life-affirming thing of wonder, who the f*ck do the music industry think they are? Is there any hope that this bunch of pen-pushers and money lenders will be able to drag their sorry faces out of the sand before the game is well and truly up? Unlikely. It seems that all the people who know why the Clash matter have been shoved aside and replaced by people who really don't see the problem with shoving another Jessica Simpson clone down the throats of the masses. Hopefully it won't be long now before the whole shambolic, delusional edifice collapses around their cloth ears.

Anyway on a brighter note, I did meet a friend of, it turned out, lots of friends who was in town to observe the whole sorry mess. It's always a worry when someone tells you that their friend is in town and you should meet them.  But my new best friend Nicola turned out to be fantastic. Like most of my friends in the UK, she's a journalist, and a music journalist to boot. You don't get music journalists in Canada. You have to save up the $14 for Word. We had a lovely afternoon hiding in a pub from the worst storm of the winter. I'm used to it now but she couldn't quite believe that anyone would voluntarily live through a Canadian winter. 

It was the nicest afternoon I've spent in a long time and reminded me of the things I genuinely miss about London. Pubs, for one. And talking about music in that way that only the British do. Oh, and the sense of humour - it's very different from north America. After she'd flown out to Austin I felt quite melancholy for a while. Then I listened to half of Question Time over the internet and realised exactly why someone would do what I've done. Still, cheers Nicola - come back soon, maybe not in early March...

Got home on Saturday evening and within an hour the power went out in the building - all very 70s Britain. It occurred to me that an afternoon down the pub followed by an evening surrounded by candles was slightly dangerous. They should make a public information film about it.

I did quite enjoy melancholy - it's a very misunderstood state.