Post-war recognition of the necessity to focus the hyperactive energy of youth on joyful and diverting fascinations saw a rise and encouragement in popular music directed at the newly reified ‘teenager’. Harnessing the cult-like instincts away from ideological diversions was an exercise in leisure. It has been said that the originality of advertising ‘gurus’ in the 1950s saw the invention and promotion of Romantic Love. The subject matter of the resulting popular music saw a tendency in this direction with the ongoing encouragement of marriage. The Long Players regularly perform rock n roll classics of the 50s and 60s to throngs of those well-disposed to the notion of Romantic Love in wishing newly-weds the best of luck for their future life (listen to our music and view our videos). While The Long Players agree that this explanation for the baby boom offers a form of rational satisfaction, we choose to refer readers back to Sonnet 18 by the Bard of Stratford upon Avon for a 16th century opinion:
Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate.
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date.
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature’s changing course, untrimmed;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st,
Nor shall death brag thou wand’rest in his shade,
When in eternal lines to Time thou grow’st.
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
In the tradition of all that celebrates Romantic Love, and The Long Players do so regularly (read our testimonials for a taste of the effect of our offering), consider the following verse from the pen of Van Morrison that while, perhaps not bathed in the lofty grandiloquence of Shakespeare, celebrates with musical equality:
Hey, where did we go?
Days when the rains came
Down in the hollow
Playin’ a new game
Laughing and a running hey, hey
Skipping and a jumping
In the misty morning fog with
Our hearts a thumpin’ and you
My brown-eyed girl
You, my brown-eyed girl