THE kiss of death for any social gathering is some dick getting out an acoustic guitar. Here are the thought processes going on in his – and it is always ‘his’ – head.
‘This is better than people talking to each other’
Yes, it’s great that conversations and flirtations have been killed stone dead by this twat getting out his guitar and becoming the focal point of the room. You may as well be at home with Spotify, which would actually be better because Charli XCX doesn’t sit in your living room being a pain in the arse if you listen to Brat.
‘Karma Police might get me laid’
Every guitar twat hopes his music will lead to sex. Look how excited he is about that attractive blonde woman politely paying attention to his tedious strumming. Unfortunately it means he’ll be choosing tunes that make him look deep and sensitive, so expect Radiohead, Nick Drake and the like. You’re really not into listening to Fast Car by Tracy Chapman at a party just so he can dip his wick.
‘I do not find this unpleasantly intense’
Someone playing music just feet away from you is uncomfortably intimate. They’re giving to you artistically and emotionally, and you are responding by looking interested. It’s like sex, if shagging wasn’t pleasant and everyone you’d ever bedded was a pretentious dick.
‘Time to disconcertingly start singing!’
Most acoustic guitar bores fancy themselves as singers, so you’ll be getting vocals. Chances are he’ll be quite a proficient singer, but the Gestapo were quite proficient torturers, so that’s no guarantee of enjoying something. When he starts wailing it’s possible others will join in, making you want to shout: ‘FOR CHRIST’S SAKE DON’T ENCOURAGE HIM!’ But then they might think you’re an uncreative grump who doesn’t like music. Or worse still – you’re jealous.
‘They definitely want to hear my own music’
Are his own tunes likely to be better than those of the music legends like Led Zeppelin he’s just been playing? Obviously ‘yes’, and now he’s launching into some terrible song he’s written called Ashes of My Heart, apparently. Did he really just sing ‘Love made me fly/ Like an eagle so high/ But now it cuts like a knife’? The cringing sensation spreading across your body suggests he did.
‘Everyone loved it’
The self-delusion is strong in this one, and he’ll assume the awkward silence when he finally stops playing is everyone processing the powerful emotions his music has stirred. Thankfully, no ladies appear to want to be his groupies, and it’s probably wise to avoid a relationship with someone who could start strumming Yellow at any second. It would be like being kept as Coldplay’s sex slave, and no one wants that.
