Void-brained hack Dan Brown has curled out a new novel, ‘The Lost Symbol’, destined to be enjoyed by millions of the kind of people who read with their mouth open and their finger on the page.
Now, only a wanky literary snob would sneer at the multi-million selling ‘Da Vinci Code’ scribe on the basis of his facile plots, lunk-headed clichés, balsa-wood dialogue, and the general sense that each chapter has been laboriously traced in crayon by an author with his tongue protruding from the side of his mouth – so let’s mock him for his embarrassing musical past instead.
Never much of a reader, until 1993 Dan Brown’s ambition was to be a singer-songwriter. His first effort was an album of children’s music, containing such simple and repetitive ditties as ‘Happy Frogs’ and ‘Suzuki Elephants’ – a clue, perhaps, to the future quality of his penmanship.
Emboldened by this experiment, he moved to Hollywood to make it as a professional musician. There he recorded an album, entitled simply ‘Dan Brown’ – daring imaginative leaps have never been his thing – which included a song about phone sex called ‘976 Love’ (sample lyric: “I take you to bed and push the phone to my head/You make me feel like a man.”)
Brown followed this up in 1994 with a second album. ‘Angels And Demons’, a chilling premonition of his future novel of the same name.
Lest you think we’re just having a dig at Dan Brown because he’s a famous author, we should stress that these songs are quite staggeringly bad: overblown, blustery, and blandly all-American – think Barry Manilow meets the ‘Baywatch’ soundtrack meets Team America’s ‘Only A Woman’.
‘All I Believe’, in particular, aims for ‘Imagine-style cosmic awe (There’s no God above, there’s no fall below…”) and winds up sounding like ‘Angels’ as reinterpreted by an utter berk.
Listen and weep:
All I Believe
Here In These Fields
If You Believe In Love