Heavy metal by degree?

In my capacity as a seasoned, some might say pickled, music industry business veteran, I am sometimes called upon to advise major brands. Just such a call came recently from Tannoy, the speaker manufacturers. However I refused to help as I thought they would not like the feedback.

Talking of music, I am all for educating the public about its relative value to society but I must say that I am alarmed about a new story I heard yesterday. It seems that Nottingham University is offering a new foundation degree course this autumn. It is based on that highest of art forms, Heavy Metal. Why could they not have courses like that when I was young enough to go? I turned down a 4 year degree course at Swansea University because the subject was “Economics and materials”. Had the four years been spent trying to get inside the heads of Lemmy from Motörhead or the veritable Ozzy Osbourne, and experimenting with drugs, then I may have been more interested, but then again, come to think if it, maybe not. Whatever next? A degree in UK rap? In which case I am expecting to be called to the chair as senior lecturer anytime soon.

Hands up who wants a heavy metal degree?

Despite gruesome weather, the rain did not start in earnest until after 11, so the morning constitutional was unaffected except for the donning of waterproof coats and hats once again, as the temperature hovered around 8 degrees and the wind was whipping the tops off (now here is a subject which might be more interesting in a different context and with… But I must stop there, more blood pressure pills nurse) the ubiquitous rapeseed crops festooned over the South Downs. Actually I am torn when it comes to rapeseed, I like the colour but worried that it is disfiguring the quintessentially English countryside. I have such an interesting existence.

Anyway, good breakfast on board, walk completed, a days music administration shoe-horned into one intense hour, and it was off to Chichester. That Nice Lady Decorator has a birthday coming up next week, her 37th again if I am not mistaken, and a gift is usually required to ensure I am not in the doghouse for months to come. When I asked her what she wanted she said “Oh, nothing really” which of course means she wants something. My problem is trying to work out what that something is. So I went shopping. Regular readers will know that this is one of my least favourite pastimes, and undertaken in wind and rain did nothing to help the process. I have however organised a big day out on Monday, the appointed day when she will no longer ever be 36, again. I have persuaded Master Mariner Mundell to take a party of 12 on his splendid boat from Cannes to St Tropez for an impossibly debauched luncheon at Tahiti Beach. This follows the screening on Sunday of Otway the Movie in Cannes. As that will mean that I have been working all weekend, I have decided that I will take a day off in lieu. The table is booked, and the tender standing by to ferry us from boat to restaurant. What else could a girl want on her birthday? And that was the reason for my trip to Chichester.

Last night we decided (even though I had no part in that decision making process)  to venture out in that disgusting weather to go to the Kings Arms quiz night, instead of settling on staying in and discussing the relative merits of the services offered by Currencies Direct. Ok, that was a bit disingenuous, but I was getting worried as to how I could drop the daily link into this column.

Chris France

@Valbonne_News