Music to run to. Rawk or Rap? Or should I listen to Nike?

skreamRegular readers will know that I’m a die-hard iPod wearer with a taste for rock music of the most unfashionable ilk imaginable. Perfect Strangers by Deep Purple anyone? Edge of Seventeen by Stevie Nicks? Classics, the pair of them, and just the things to match your pace to if you’re a slightly greying plodder like my good self.

However, times and fashions change; and I have been told many times that Rap beats Rock when it comes to keeping you motivated while running. So, always being willing to ‘get down with the kids’ (though not in a Wacko Jacko sort of way, obviously), I’ve recently borrowed a couple of CDs by such luminaries of the modern music scene as Eminem and 50 Cent (or Arfur Dollar as he’s known round here) with a view to testing modern music against classic rock as an aid to recreational running.

Well, first off, I couldn’t quite get my head around rappers’ obsession with, I presume, dog obedience classes and gardening respectively. It’s all bitches and hoes and I really couldn’t see the point.

Secondly, I run for a bit of feel-good factor…you know, the wind in your hair, that sweet rush of endorphins, the blessed relief when it stops…and I just couldn’t get my running mojo to go to its happy place with ‘Many Men (Wish Death)’ assaulting my delicate sensibilities. So, sorry rap fans, but that was the end of that experiment.

And then, those nice people at Nike+ sent me a voucher for one of 1,000 free tracks featuring someone called Skream. It was billed as ‘over 30 minutes of bespoke motivational music’ and that sounded just great. And it was a free download from iTunes, and that sounded even better. And then I put it on my iPod nano, and it sounded just awful!

No, really. When did making music simply become a matter of turning on the drum machine and going off for a lie-down? Can’t read music? No need. If you’ve got a drum machine, a keyboard with some annoying sounds on it, a pan lid to clank with a rusty fork and an absolute hatred of all things harmonic or rhythmic, you can now have a music career. So, cutting to the chase for a second, ‘Galassia’ by Skream fails utterly as a piece of music.

Is it any good as a motivational tool though? Well, kinda sorta. Once I’d run through the slow and aimless ‘warmup’ section of the track, then worked out that the 140 beats per minute was just that bit too quick to follow on a six mile run, I was able to tune it out slightly and not let it bother me too much. In fact, If I’d been running 4 miles instead of 6, this might even have been a useful ‘tool’ to run to, in much the same way that a metronome helps learners to play the piano.

What it certainly wasn’t was musical, far less enjoyable. In fact, the only bit of the track that sticks in my head is about 20 minutes in, when the annoying clanking sound alternates between your ears for a few seconds. But as that’s the kind of thing my 13-year-old does when he’s composing tracks on Garageband, I wasn’t exactly lost in admiration for the musicality of it all.

The long and the short of it is that the classic rock of my youth delivers roughly the kind of BPM I can run too, along with pretty high standards of musicality. Oh, and dreadful lyrics too, if I’m honest.

So look, if you really want great music to run to, start with Edge of Seventeen, Perfect Strangers, Long Live Rock ‘n Roll, Dreams I’ll Never See and Ride Like the Wind. Hell, with your headphones on, no-one will ever know.


One thought on “Music to run to. Rawk or Rap? Or should I listen to Nike?

  1. I cannot fathom the reason for listening to rap at any point in my life let alone to keep me going through a run. Mind you, maybe the relief to come, of turning it off would make you finish quicker! Each to their own though.. My playlist of music (rock, pop and indie) hasn’t changed for a couple of months now and knowing which songs are coming and wanting to get to a point before a song finished has been the perfect motivation for me when running alone. Admittedly, some songs are far to embarrassing to ever tell anyone about. They’re my guilty pleasures…

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