The Music Played in B&Q

This morning, after an agreeable breakfast of poached eggs on toast, I sallied forth to my local branch of B&Q, the well known 'DIY' and garden store. I often pop in to see what plants they have in stock, and thought I would do as such before commencing my writing for the day. Now, whilst I enjoy perusing the small shrubs, cottage garden perennials, alpines and herbs, this otherwise pleasant experience is usually tarnished a little by the piped music that is played throughout the store and indeed outside in the gardening department - partly because said music is played a little too loud, but mainly because I find the choice of music played quite disagreeable.

During my visit this morning the music seemed even more irritating and unwelcome than usual - so much so in fact that I became unable to concentrate on choosing which plants I might wish to purchase. After losing interest in weighing up the pros and cons of buying either a honeysuckle or a rambling rose to grow up a particular spot on the garden fence, I decided to leave the store. However, at that moment a young man who looked like he might be a junior manager of some kind walked into the gardening department, and so instead of leaving I resolved to have words with this chap about my displeasure with B&Q's musical policy.

"Ah! I say there! Young man! Are you a manager?"

"Yes sir" he replied, "I'm the deputy manager of this store".

To me he seemed a little young to be employed in such an elevated position, being quite baby-faced in appearance, and sporting the kind of spiky, off-kilter hairstyle so beloved by today's youth (yet which gives them the appearance of storm damaged sea urchins). The badge pinned to his shirt confirmed, however, that he was indeed the deputy manager, and so I proceeded to state my case.

"Right. Well, without wishing to sound too critical of your otherwise sound establishment, I wish to register a complaint with you regarding the music that is played in this store. Not only is it a little too loud and intrusive, the choice of songs and artistes is in my opinion poor. It seems to mostly consist of either bland, vapid, irritating pop numbers, or else even blander male singer-songwriter fellows and their depressing, pointless whining".

"Oh" he replied, looking a little crestfallen, "well I'm sorry that the music is not to your taste. I will pass on your complaint to the rest of the management team, and if there are any more complaints about the volume we will certainly look into turning it down slightly. I'm not sure we can do much about the choice of music though I'm afraid - we choose it specifically to appeal to as wide a cross section of our customers as possible. We can't please everyone all the time though unfortunately!".

He made this last point in a light-hearted, conciliatory tone of voice, though did not seem to fully take on board my issues with the choice of music played. I pressed on with my complaint.

"Hmmm. Well young man, far be it from me to question the musical tastes of the wider public, but I refuse to believe that many people can have a pleasant time browsing through the potted plants whilst being forced to listen to such depressing and irritating music. Who, for example, is this being played at the moment?".

"That's James Morrison" he said, rather defensively, "he's a very popular singer-songwriter. I've got the CD case on me here".

I inspected the CD sleeve, which contained a picture of an amiable enough looking young man with a shaggy mop of hair. The song currently playing by the aforementioned Mr Morrison seemed though to offend both my mind and my body, and somehow began to make me feel a little off colour.

"Well, I'm sure he's a decent and nice enough young chap. His music however is giving me indigestion. I came to your store this morning with a view to perhaps purchase some plants, not to compromise my constitution - yet this is the effect the piped music in this store is having. Now may I suggest to you that if you really must play music throughout the store, it be of a considerably higher quality than what is currently offered, and it also be somewhat more appropriate if it is to soundtrack the relaxed perusal of plants".

The young deputy manager appeared to be getting a little uncomfortable with being criticised in this manner, and asked me what music I would consider more fitting for them to play in the store (perhaps as a way of bringing our conversation to a quick conclusion).

"Well young man, Britain is an island of gardeners and fine gardens, and Britain has also produced many great composers who have through their music expressed their love of landscape and nature. To me the two go rather well together, so I would suggest you play some Vaughan Williams, some Elgar, and perhaps some Frank Bridge or Arnold Bax. Such music would not only complement the act of buying horticultural goods but perhaps even elevate it to the level of a purer artistic contemplation of beauty and the natural world".

He looked at me a little perplexed, and seemed unsure how to respond. I continued.

"Alternatively, if you really wanted to play some pop music, then you can't do much better than The Kinks. Now they were excellent songwriters, and in my opinion one of the best bands from the 1960s".

"Oh right" - he seemed a little surer about this suggestion - "Well we don't have anything by The Kinks, but we do have a Best of The Beatles CD which we occasionally play".

"Yes" I replied, "that would be an improvement. The Beatles are ok - I met them once, as it happens - though for me The Kinks were always the superior band.......".

I momentarily drifted away, remembering events in my life in the 1960s. The deputy manager took the opportunity to end our conversation.

"Right - well thank you for bringing your complaint to our attention - I'll go and try and find the Beatles CD and see if we can get it played for you. Ok, thank you sir, bye bye".

And off he went, not looking back. I waited in the gardening section of my local branch of B&Q to see if anything would happen. I did not hear any songs by The Beatles. Nor did I see the deputy manager again. After about half an hour it began to rain a little, though I continued to wait for a while longer whilst pretending to inspect the honeysuckles and the roses that I'd long since lost interest in, and wished that I'd remembered to bring an umbrella.

After forty-five minutes I decided to leave, feeling fed up and a little defeated. As I walked through the store towards the exit a song came on that grabbed my attention, and I was a little surprised that it had as it seemed to be a loud modern pop number. It did have however a very catchy beat, and I found myself walking in a slightly rhythmic, almost dancing fashion as I neared the checkouts. In no more than a minute this song had cheered me considerably, so I was intrigued to find out who it was by. I asked a lady at the checkout if she knew who the artiste was.

"It's Janet Jackson" she replied, "The song's called 'What Have You Done For Me Lately', though you can probably work that out from the lyrics! It's a few years old this song, I remember being at school in the 80s when it came out".

I thanked her, and walked to the exit, though before leaving I waited for the song to end, tapping my feet, and tried hard not to appear like I was enjoying it too much! I then walked home whistling the tune and with a spring in my step. I didn't purchase any plants today, though I have perhaps expanded my musical horizons a little - and the strange thing is I have B&Q to thank for that.