Ruining Music For Everyone.

 Pedantry isn't so much a hobby as a state of mind, for me, but it can sometimes lead me to interesting diversions.

 Every so often, for example, I start taking songs completely literally. It happened the other day while I was driving home. Daft Punk came on the radio and informed me (ad nauseum) that they were "Up all night to get lucky."

 Personally, I've been up all night to get lucky a few times in my life, and I can safely say that as the evening wears on and midnight gives way to the wee wee hours, your chances of getting lucky with anything even vaguely human whittle down quite precipitously. The dregs of humanity - shambling, drunken, doughy, smeared abominations gasping desperately for air in  the evaportatingly shallow end of the human gene pool - are all that remain, and if you're still determined to get laid, you're going to have to pick one.

 In reality, you want to be out until about ten o'clock to get lucky, and if unsuccessful, salvage some dignity and try again another night.

 Daft Punk don't do this. They stay up all night to get lucky, and more fool them. They may as well change the song to "We're going home with a munter."

 I changed the station and The Police informed me that every little thing she does is magic.

 That would, if you think about it, be incredibly wearying. It's not just that a couple of things she does are magic. Sting is very clear in his typically lazy and repetitive songwriting style that every little thing - every little thing - every little, every little, every little (every little!) thing she does is magic.

 Living with a woman like that would be its own kind of hell. Handjobs that finish with the sudden appearance of a bouquet of flowers. The inability to put on a hat for fear of rabbits. Having to blow your nose on really really long strings of colourful hankies. I'd probably end up stabbing the bitch.

 I got home and, as it's Christmas, was singing Christmas songs to myself as I did the washing up when I realised that Nat 'King' Cole was a little churlish. He was offering a simple phrase, to kids from one to ninety-two. Although it'd been said, many times, many ways, Merry Christmas to you.

 All well and good, but if he had any relatives or acquaintances who were 93 or over, they could realistically assume they were being told to get fucked. Then again, old 'King' Cole was a petulant and shallow man. When he fell in love, it would be forever, or he'd never fall in love. This seems like an emotionally under-developed and insecure caveat, betraying an unwillingness to give freely of himself or open up to people.

 It's probably why he was single.

 Don't even get me started on the fact that there are YouTube videos with the written lyrics to a song called "Unforgettable."

 Maybe I'll stick to instrumentals for a while.