And now for something completely different . . .
If good music is a passion, then you probably already steer clear of this guy . However, if the deflating of stuffed shirts, aka top quality nonsense, is a penchant, then you no doubt are a fan of P.D.Q. Bach, also known as Peter Schickele.
Here in New York, it will soon be P.D.Q. Bach concert season. It is one thing to hear his cacophony on a disc of some kind; it is quite another to experience it live in concert. For one thing, it’s more expensive. Then you’re stuck having to be polite to strangers who can’t decide whether to have Raisinettes or SnoCaps with their kahlua.
But even outside New York, there isn’t a music school in the Western world that hasn’t ignored completely such classic P.D.Q. compositions as “Iphigenia in Brooklyn,” “The Triumphs of Thusnelda,” and “The O.K. Chorale from the ‘Toot’ Suite.” These works are to classical music what Yoo-Hoo is to a unified field theory.
To the uninitiated, here is an extract from P.D.Q. Bach’s biography:
The conspiracy of silence that has surrounded P.D.Q. Bach (1807-1742)? for two centuries began with his own parents. He was the last and the least of the great Johann Sebastian Bach’s twenty-odd children, and he was certainly the oddest. His father ignored him completely, setting an example for the rest of the family (and indeed for posterity), with the result that P.D.Q. was virtually unknown during his own lifetime; in fact, the more he wrote, the more unknown he became. He finally attained total obscurity at the time of his death, and his musical output would probably have followed him into oblivion had it not been for the zealous efforts of Prof. Schickele. These efforts have even extended themselves to mastering some of the rather unusual instruments for which P.D.Q. liked to compose, such as the left-handed sewer flute, the windbreaker, and the bicycle.
Ah, who can forget the lyrics to “ The Queen to Me a Royal Pain Doth Give ” or “ My Bonnie Lass She Smelleth ”? Well, I did about five minutes after I heard them. But if you haven’t heard “ The Very Least of P.D.Q. Bach ,” you haven’t missed a thing. Except perhaps one of the funniest evenings of your life. And if after extreme exposure to Schickele/Bach you don’t laugh yourself into a medically induced coma, I would ask for my deductible back.
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