Well, all these years this is what
we’ve been missing, isn’t it? When that Burnley ball hits the back of the net we
just haven’t known what to do with ourselves. Now relax, for we are saved. When the
Clarets score at Turf Moor, henceforth a blast of recorded music will steer our
celebrations along an appropriate, officially approved course. At last, we all know what
to do.
And isn’t it awful? Look, I’m not going to pretend that this
will be a balanced argument that weighs up the pros and cons of goal celebration music.
Simply, I hate it. Always have done, always will. And I write, by the way, as a lover of
music, as someone with a huge, shelf-defying record collection and an enduring music habit
second only to Burnley FC for disposing of my income. I don’t, as it happens, much
care for the chosen music, Tom Hark by the Piranhas, and it isn’t the sort of
thing I could see myself popping on the stereo at home, but that’s a matter of
personal taste, and not the point here. The club says that the fact the tune has an
association with Burnley means that it is appropriate thing to play, but for me it
doesn’t matter what the jingle is. It’s the fact that music is being played when
we score that is wrong. The choice of tune is irrelevant. It wouldn’t make a
difference if it was a hallowed choice from a personal top ten. It would still be wrong,
because it doesn’t belong there. You see, I like listening to music at home. I like
going to see bands play live. I just can’t see where it fits in at a football match,
particularly while the game itself is being played.
As far as I’m concerned, the only connection Turf Moor has with the
world of music is that The Fall filmed the video for Kicker Conspiracy there. And
that should be the end of it.
I loathed goal music when it started creeping in at away grounds. I think
my first exposure was an absurd snatch of James Brown’s I Feel Good at
Tranmere in 1995. We felt anything but as we heard it four times that day. I remember at
the time, even in the midst of abject defeat, feeling pleased that we didn’t have any
of that sort of nonsense at Burnley. That was my crumb of comfort. Let other clubs resort
to artificial means to try to generate atmosphere; we had no need of such fakery. From
then on, we would duly rip the piss out of any club that played goal music.
Until now. They have snatched away our leg to stand on. I cringe now it
has been introduced at our club. I despair that, according to what we might as well for
the sake of convenience call the club’s ‘PR department’, it’s here to
stay. Danny Reuben, PR bloke, says, "We will be continuing with the music and I do
hope, in time, that you start to enjoy this initiative." Of course you do, don’t
you, generally begin to enjoy something you really hate, if you get it shoved down your
throat enough times? I don’t think so. It is, and always will be, naff, embarrassing
and brainless. It never will stop being intrusive, unwelcome and unnecessary.
It’s an imposition too. At the Wimbledon home game, when this ghastly
innovation was introduced, three times I tried to celebrate our goals in the usual,
time-honoured manner, as I have hundreds of goals before. That is, by cheering in whatever
way I damn well please. Three times I was stopped short by the intervention of music I
didn’t want to sing. Stop interrupting us and we’ll get behind them! And
whatever was wrong with allowing us to decide what song we sing? Must we be led by the
hand? If Glen Little scores a wonder goal, I want to sing the name of Glen Little long and
loud. If Steve Davis powers in a header, his name. If we score against someone I hate, I
want to revel in that sweet moment. Whenever, whatever, I want to make my own mind up. I
want choice. With goal music, if you want to celebrate a goal, you have no choice but to
go along with the chosen tune. Either that, or shut up. To be forced to go along with an
imposed, officially sanctioned tune is nothing less than musical fascism.
It’s inappropriate. It might be all very well when you score your
third at the start of the season. All very jolly I’m sure, although I always will
think that anyone who joins in ought to be ashamed of themselves. But there will be times
when goal music strikes a bum note. Will they play it when we notch a slim consolation at
the end of a stuffing? What about a tense, bitter, hate-fuelled derby when all you want to
do is rub your goal in the opposition’s faces? Or imagine an end of season match
where we need a point. We’re 2-0 down. It’s so tense it physically hurts. Your
stomach’s twisted, your heartbeat’s erratic and you can’t think. Suddenly
we grab one. There’s a minute to go. We need another. Time for a jocular piece of
music? I don’t think so. I don’t want to treat important goals the same as
trivial goals, and I don’t want to celebrate great goals as I would
off-the-defender’s-arse goals. I don’t want uniformity. I don’t want honest
reactions to be blanded out.
The game itself is capable of delivering the highs and lows. Football is a
game of strong, sometimes unpleasant passions. What’s a cheeky burst of music got to
do with that? The game doesn’t need dressing up. Come to that, the most emotional,
exciting and noisy parts of the game are when we’ve just scored. Surely that’s
the time we need music least? Are our own efforts no longer adequate?
And it’s unfair. I hate the fact that goal music is for home goals
only. It’s not fair at away grounds when sides do it to us, and we have to sit there
while they go through the routine, so why should it be okay for us to do it at Turf Moor?
It’s an artificial means of goading the opposition, which can’t be on.
That’s our job.
It’s pointless. I genuinely can’t see what this is supposed to
bring to the game. The atmosphere at Turf Moor is, as we all know, rubbish, but it has
been ever since they built the new stands and made us sit down. Burnley’s the sort of
place you should be standing up at, but I can’t see for a minute the club being
prepared to think the unthinkable and join those working to restore the option to stand to
our game. Even unreserved seating – remember when you could sit with a group of
mates, before we scattered to different parts of the ground depending on how frequently we
attend? – would help. Instead, of course, we get a glib and thoughtless innovation.
Imagine that music when the novelty value has worn off and it begins to grate. Imagine
people sitting down when we score a goal because they do not want to take part in a
pre-ordained, choreographed bit of nonsense. Very atmospheric.
Club representatives, bringing their combined months of experience to
bear, claim that the music produced an unparalleled atmosphere at the Wimbledon home
match. Danny Reuben says, "The site [sic] of everyone in unison dancing along to the
music was fantastic. In the eighteen months I have worked at Burnley Football Club I have
never seen so many fans react in such a positive way after a goal had been scored."
Hmm, we’ll see how long that lasts. Personally, I’ve always found that people
stand up and cheer because we’ve scored a goal, not because a snatch of music has
been played. It’s hardly cause and effect. Perhaps a rare goal rush and a good start
to the season had more to do with people’s reactions. But I found it amusing that
people at the club now seem to be happy with supporters dancing in their seats; just last
year, they were chucking people out merely for standing up.
Oh, and don’t tell me the kids like this. Get this: I don’t
care. Most Burnley supporters today went to games when they were kids. Remarkably, as with
generations before them, they didn’t get hooked because of music, half time
entertainment or even people dressed as bloody bees. They came back and developed the
habit of a lifetime because football is fast, exciting, unpredictable, compulsive, and
therefore addictive. Burnley FC have done outstanding work in ensuring the succession by
introducing the £35 child season ticket, and they should be commended for that. But we
can’t redesign the game around children. Should us adults have to put up with any
number of irritating innovations on that basis? Perhaps clowns could show us to our seats
and there’ll be a free bag of sweets with every programme? Or perhaps we could trust
the game itself to make people want to come back for more?
Besides this, there should be no place for such tackiness at Burnley. Many
of us pride ourselves that Burnley is a no-nonsense, traditional sort of club. We’re
not flash. We should disdain needless innovations. Let clubs less sure of themselves fall
for those. I wonder what Stan thinks of that music? We are Burnley and we are prouder than
this.
Perhaps the club no longer has faith in the product, so compromised and
rendered meaningless has it been by mass fixture changes, which have ended Saturday
afternoon football as a tradition and expectation. With games stretched around the week
from Thursday through to Sunday, the league as a competition has lost much integrity.
It’s hard at times to convince yourself that it's meaningful. Do they feel this too,
so they see the need to distract us with new things? Do they think that glitz, glitter and
fireworks, that the tarting up of a devalued product, will make up for what has been lost?
I don’t know, but I do worry that the PR mob have too much time on
their hands if they’re cooking up hair-brained schemes like this. I dread to think
whatever next. Can’t we find them something fulfilling and time-consuming to do?
Interestingly enough, we had this nonsense before, briefly, and we beat
it. A few years back – the PR kids won’t know because they weren’t around
then – we were treated to a snatch of Blur’s Song 2 when we scored. That
didn’t last long. You’d have thought the club wouldn’t be dumb enough to
try it again, but then, those who don’t learn from mistakes are bound to repeat them.
Well, we’ll just have to see it off again.
In the meantime, why not use your imagination? Why not sing your own song
when Burnley score? Let’s bring spontaneity back to Turf Moor.
