A flute in need caused me to trek across the River to the music store where the Eccentric Genius, she who fixes instruments, has her lair. After taking care of the flute, I lunched at the nearby Popeye's Chicken.

The chicken was good, but the drawback was that I had to listen to country music while I ate. (I know, I know, it doesn't even register with most people, but I'm different.) On the recording, a Standard Baritone - Country (who met all the requirements of Commercial Music Vocal Standard #33P17J) was singing about his rambles, disappointments and heartbreak. He started out by singing someething about Amtrak, and about 11 minutes later sang something like, 'And then I went to Georgia and dared to eat a peach.'

Dared to eat a peach? I sat up as if poked with a hat pin. Somebody in Nashville has read and remembered the Lovesong of J. Alfred Prufrock! She's probably being held prisoner and is trying to signal the rest of the world to get her out!

See:

http://www.bartleby.com/198/1.html

for the Lovesong. Do a search and you will find the peach about 87% of the way down.

I don't know the name of the song or the singer, and I don't know if it was radio or a CD that I was listening to. So I don't know how to begin tracking her down. What shall we do?

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Here's another thing about that music. It was so damn slick. I'm sure that somewhere a music producer who grew up in a 3-bedroom ranch turned to a lackey and said, 'You have an MA in music theory and a BS in computer science. Listen to some old-time country and simulate it, cheap.'

For example, in any given song (if you can call a lengthy tuneless monologue a song) every measure had the same drum beat. In the tune with the peach, each measure began with a lifeless whack from a trap set. I don't think there really was a trap set, however, I'm sure it was a computerized track.

Have they figured out how to simulate other instruments? Because the electric guitar accompaniment was equally invariant. There was the same little pattern over and over, with never an ornament, bend, glitch or change in volume. If a real person played it, he's probably in the cell next to the lyricist.

I've decided to call it plastic music.