Dear Randy Bachman

Dear Randy Bachman,

You don't know me, so please don't tell anyone that you do. I am just a CBC fan who never really loved your music, but now, I'll be honest Randy, now you just plain annoy me.

I know that lots of Canadians love you. You read their letters all the time. Perhaps they smoked too much weed in the 60's , or perhaps they're acknowledging the fact that compared to commercial radio, anything sounds good.

I didn't want to have to tell you this Randy, but it seems I'm the only one who will. So here it is. Randy, we as a country are embarrassed for you. There, I said it, no take backsies. No matter how much maple sugar you spread on it, it's not getting any sweeter. You, Randy Bachman, are a name dropper.

I'm not as old as you yet, Randy, but I can tell you a thing or two about aging.

One. If you're going to relive your glory days, do it at the counter of the town drunk watering hole where everyone else is so obliterated they actually think your stories are good. National radio is not the place for such behaviour.

And two, nobody except you gets off on who you know.

We might be impressed if Neil Young rambles on about the song he learned from Randy Bachman while Randy graciously gave up his Sunday afternoon to help Neil catch up on laundry. I might respect you if I heard such a tale coming from someone else. But Randy, when you ramble on about how you just happened to play that same chord 1 split second before Neil and then it ended up on one of his hits, well, that doesn't make you cool, it just makes you annoying. Take it from me, Randy - Canada doesn't care if you've met the Beatles or Elvis. Canada is impartial to who wrote the songs you've played and who claimed the riffs you've slayed. Canada just wants to hear good 'ole Canadian content. Name dropping is not a national pasttime.

We don't need to hear you demonstrate a Stratocaster on the radio Randy. Plenty of the artists you play do that just fine. We don't need to hear you tell us about "back in the day when I had to walk 10 miles each way just to buy a guitar pick". We certainly don't need to hear you talk about the time John Lennon wore the exact same brand of socks that you'd worn just the day before. Believe it or not, that doesn't make you the co-writer of "Give Peace a Chance". It doesn't even earn you credit on Yoko Ono's performance art.

Do us a favour, Randy. Tell us about the great restaurant down the street from where you live, let us know who you think is going to win the hockey game, play us a song without telling us how it has something to do with you. Your show is called "Vinyl Tap", not "Everything You Need to Know About Why Randy Bachman Considers Himself to be a Canadian Legend". Yes, you were popular. Yes, you were part of a scene. Yes, your accomplishments are noteworthy in some version of the Canadian music history timeline. But Randy, let it go! Kids in their 20's still know who Buddy Holly and Ringo Starr and the Beach Boys are, but Randy Bachman? Not a chance in hell. You can't live in the past, and if you want to try, you can't expect Canada to go with you. Get a grip, man, we don't care who you've met, known, slept with, played for or ripped off. All we want is a few hours of solid radio time that doesn't make us grind our teeth. Even Steven Harper could do a better job of giving this country what it wants without being self-indulgent!

Randy, next time you feel the need to say "back when so-and-so and I went to blah blah blah", stop. Just stop and think for a second. Will you make my life any better by telling me that? Will I gain further insight into the human condition and the trials and tribulations of life as a rock star? If the answer is "no" then for the love of all things holy and not, just stop! Stop, and play a song. Not on your guitar, but from whatever CD you have on deck. Canada will be grateful, Randy. Canada will breathe a sigh of relief. And you may even look a little bit cooler because you'll be a part of that inside joke about the name you didn't drop. We'll all know that for once, it wasn't all about you.

Randy, to steal a phrase from Carly Simon, (who I don't know, and with whom I have no connection whatsoever), you're so vain, I bet you think this blog is about you. Well, for once, you're right. But nobody else has a clue who I am, so thankfully there's no fear that you'll ever talk about me.

Keep on keeping it real, Randy, just like John Lennon and Janis Joplin and John Denver. Oh wait. They're dead. Well, never mind, I'm sure in heaven they're all playing your tunes and talking about you like there's no tomorrow. I know because they told me so when I had burgers with them at the Pearly Gate Café. Oh, God was there too, Randy. He says "Hi".

Give my regards to Denise, who I don't know at all.

Sue