I don’t know what happened, but I woke up one morning to find that foreign operatic singers have taken over the local music scene. Since when did listening to moving renditions of songs that we don’t understand became the next Big Thing? Siti Nurhaliza sure didn’t see that coming.
The worse part is how difficult their names are to pronounce. I’m talking, of course, about new sensations Il Divo and Patrizio Buanne. Say what? Eel Dee-voh and Pear-tree-zeeoh Boo-ehn. What? Are you saying that’s not how I should pronounce it? Well, as long as I don’t understand a hoot of what they’re singing, I don’t really care.
I saw the MTV of Il Divo’s Spanish rendition of ‘Unbreak My Heart’, and I had to suppress my laughter. Excuse me, but where’s the heartbreaking part?
Two days ago, Mum passed me Patrizio Buanne’s CD and I converted them to Ogg media. I must say he sounds really great, but the songs just can’t stick in my head. Frequently cited as the next Engelbert Humperdink, he sure has a lot to offer, but nothing that I fancy. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not an oldies basher. In fact, you’d be hard pressed to find another 20 year old who loves Swing. No, not Java Swing, but swing as in Frank Sinatra, Michael Buble, and Jamie Cullum. It’s just that hearing them shout out their lungs without breaking a sweat makes one feel so, so…, damn inadequate, you know?
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