I listen to the radio quite a bit. Particularly Radio 3. And I’ve noticed that the way it’s addressing me — the way it’s trying to get me to listen to programmes later on — has been changing.
Part of this, I am sure, is a wish on the part of the presenters and continuity announcers to convey that what’s coming up has value added.
It’s not just lovely music, it will also have a positive influence on my mood.
If I am stressed, I will be calmed; if I am anxious, it will distract or delight me.
To put it plainly, sometimes it seems to me that Radio 3 now addresses all its listeners on the assumption they are staving off an imminent mental health crisis.
In other words, that they are in despair, or close to it.
And I wouldn’t say that this is necessarily a wrong assumption. There is more than enough about which to despair.
Paying close attention to what is going on, politically and environmentally, isn’t likely to contribute to positive mental health.
Each of us has to find their own way of at least keeping going and at most thriving.
Music helps, undoubtedly.
But it can seem as if what’s being suggested, in this upbeat address to the listener, is a very one-to-one relationship between, say, calming ambient sounds and a calm mental state.
Sometimes, speaking only for myself, what really need in order to purge my anxiety is a good fifteen minutes of Swedish Death Metal.
Or some György Ligeti.
Calming ambient sounds at the wrong moment can, I know, create a sense of creeping anxiety and dread.
We now have the capacity to change our soundtrack whenever we like. If we tune in to the radio, we’re implicitly saying, ‘I’m prepared to deal with something unexpected. This isn’t going to be the Spotify Music for Concentration playlist. Surprise me.’
Generally, what makes me feel not alright is people asking if I’m alright.
It’s the adoption of a bedside manner that brings on my sickness.
I love Radio 3, but I don’t really want to be mollycoddled by it.