XFM Column

There was a sentence in a book I read recently that kept circling my mind. "Finally, muzak had reached my record collection." Now, it got me thinking. Will this happen to me? Would it be a good thing? And what exactly would it sound like?

With the exception of Mike Flowers Pops and their version of Wonderwall, the indie world seems to have remained untarnished by the world of easy listening. However, with a bit of research I've uncovered some gems.

Paul Anka, the former 60s heartthrob, released a great album in 2005 called Rock Swings. It's a collection of classic rock tunes in a lounge style. Smells Like Teen Spirit, Everybody Hurts and, inevitably Wonderwall get a complete overhaul. The album reached number five in the charts and deservedly so.

Less well known, but no less ingenious is the work of Richard Cheese and Lounge Against the Machine. They are 80% Lounge, 20% Big Band and 100% amazing. There is no artist they are afraid to parody. From Beyonce to Nine Inch Nails via Snoop Dogg, no one is safe. The standout track has to be their version of System of a Down's Chop Suey. Stop reading this and find a copy.

Kids of the 80s may remember Frank Sidebottom. He was a man with a giant paper mache head, and even bigger Mancunian accent. I thoroughly recommend acquiring a copy of A,B,C & D – his greatest hits album. As well as some original tracks, there are some cracking cover versions. However, there is no evidence of the most fantastic Frank story ever told. Apparently, in the 80s, Grand Royale had to intervene to prevent the release of a Sidebottom record, a tribute to the Beastie Boys. It included two versions (one for Christmas, one for birthdays) of the brilliantly named I'm Gonna Write (Some Invites To My Party). I pray it's true.

Of course, most of these artists were in it for a laugh. It's not a real attempt to turn indie into muzak. If you really want to hear what Maximo Park, Radiohead and the Zutons sound like as lift music, pick up Mark Ronson's latest album.

That said, I wouldn't be averse to one day walking past that ever-present pan pipe band on the high street and, instead of hearing Whiter Shade Of Pale or I Will Always Love You, hearing a haunting, hollow, entirely bamboo version on How Soon Is Now? Just once. I'd probably even throw them a quid.