Most of the time, I love the classics - classic music, art, movies, great works of literature.
But - as with everything - there are occasional lapses of taste. Sources of relaxation. A bit of self-indulgence.
My father - who was very proud of the fact that I was an academic, used to hate to see me reading Harry Potter. And the rest of my family, knowing my tastes in other matters, used to view my passionate love of spaghetti westerns as an inexplicable lapse of……well, everything.
How could I say that I loved the harsh (and genuine, natural) lighting of an unrelenting sun in an arid landscape? Goyaesque, almost. And adored the baroque violence, unmediated by anything as complicated as, or informed by, a moral conscience or universe. (Although that is not entirely true).
And the music…..wow, what music. Ennio Morricone (whom I had the privilege of hearing, live, earlier this year on his European tour), Marcelo Giombini, and of course, Los Lobos, among others.
So, over a decade ago, I came across Los Lobos having seen 'Once Upon A Time In Mexico', 'Desperado' and 'El Mariachi'…….and loved the music, ordering CDs and yes, soundtracks, too.