By Way of Entertainment.

My ears were regaled in Uttoxeter today by the sound of something vaguely approximating to music. It was very loud – irritatingly so – and so I searched for the source. My eyes eventually lit on a pair of Chinese people, a man and a woman both in middle age. They were facing one another and singing into a microphone held by the man and positioned between their respective mouths. There was an amp standing on the ground with the volume knob no doubt turned to ‘mega.’

How should I describe the resultant cacophony spreading like gloopy syrup through the streets of our little market town? ‘Syrup’ won’t do. It isn’t sweet enough, and neither does it adequately convey the urge to vomit engendered by its presence. Maybe it would suffice to suggest that even Daniel O’Donnell would probably have disowned it. It had that peculiar brand of abject sogginess seemingly beloved of a certain kind of evangelical Christian. I imagined it probably had a Christian message, although I couldn’t be sure because I didn’t catch a single word. It didn’t sound Chinese, so I suppose it was probably English intoned with a strong Chinese accent. But at least its lack of identity seemed a blessing of sorts. Heaven knows the music was bad enough; catching the lyrics would probably have sent me into a paroxysm from which there could have been no escape.

I considered approaching them to ask: ‘Excuse me, but would you mind turning the volume down because it really is very annoying? And do you think you might sing some pretty Chinese songs instead?’

I didn’t, of course. They both had their eyes closed.