My friends’ five-week-old baby was raising Cain this week, and, as I consider myself something of a baby whisperer, I offered to help. I cooed, I cuddled, and I caressed, rocking and swaying as I did so. All to no avail, I’m afraid. My powers are waning. His parents told me that pub chatter was the only thing guaranteed to soothe him. This, I was told, is something one can access any time on the internet. And sure enough, there it was on Spotify – “British pub chatter”. It’s a fascinating listen. You can hear a bar bore in full flow. You can’t quite hear what he’s saying but he’s identifiable as a bit of a bore from the cadence of his relentless speech, conveying enthusiasm and certainty. It’s also clear that no one is paying him much attention. Yes, it turns out that the sound of someone not being listened to has an unmistakeable sound of its own.
Also on the same EP – yes really, an EP – is a track called “Inside a British pub”. I’m not sure why this would differ greatly from “British pub chatter”, but it was a little louder, with conversation more of a group activity featuring more multiple voices in competition. “Babbling tavern chatter” wasn’t much different, although it did feature a wheezy laugh that may have been a cough. Finally, there was “Relaxing inn”, which had nothing to distinguish it from the other three. It was a bit like listening to an album by a band whose music you’re not into and therefore each track sounds the same.
