Sir, On Saturday I listened to the item in your programme called “Those were the Days” – a selection of Dance Music of 1911, or thereabouts. Here, for what you may think them worth, are my criticisms.
I can well remember the wealth of attractive times from which, at that time, one had to choose: the Strauss and Waldteufel waltzes, and those from the Merry Widow, The Dollar princess, Veronique, The Maid of the Mountains – to mention just those that occur to me. Your selection contained one item – a Valse-cotillon –which includes “Gold & Silver” and a couple of other good …
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Sir, On Saturday I listened to the item in your programme called “Those were the Days” – a selection of Dance Music of 1911, or thereabouts. Here, for what you may think them worth, are my criticisms.
I can well remember the wealth of attractive times from which, at that time, one had to choose: the Strauss and Waldteufel waltzes, and those from the Merry Widow, The Dollar princess, Veronique, The Maid of the Mountains – to mention just those that occur to me. Your selection contained one item – a Valse-cotillon –which includes “Gold & Silver” and a couple of other good waltzes, but the remainder were as dull and indistinguishable as could be.
Nor was the dullness of the times redeemed by the playing, which was lifeless and monotonous, and wholly lacking in that inspiring lilt which is the mark of a good Dance Band.
I know, Sir, that you have to endeavour to please all classes of tastes – the high, the middle and the low. But most of us have enough imagination to recognise what is good of its kind, even though we ourselves may not care for that particular kind. The point of my criticism is that “Those were the Days” was just mediocre in every way.
I spent the years of the war at Dar-es-Salaam in East Africa. We listened eagerly to the BBC news service, but, I regret to say it, when any of us wanted to hear a little music tolerably well chosen and played and transmitted, we had to tune in to Germany or Italy. Must it always be so?
I am Sir, Yours faithfully, Henry Webb.
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