The Cleverness of Musical Jokes

How happy is Professor Freud. It is a beautiful morning. He is walking into the city with his friend, Le Bon David, through autumnal streets, lit by red and gold leaves. They carry a picnic lunch in a bag. Belle et Bonne made the picnic. You cannot expect philosophers to think of everything.

They arrive at North Terrace and sit down on a bench outside Bonython Hall. And what's in the picnic? Chicken and lettuce sandwiches, grapes and fresh pineapple. They eat, and observe modern students using their phones. 

Now it is time for the concert. They go into the Elder Hall and find seats near the middle. The Wind Orchestra comes on to the stage. They are young. They tune up playfully.

Wind, says Le Bon David. I don't generally like it.

I like anything tuneful, says Freud.

Robert Hower comes on and the concert begins. They play a serenade, a spiritual and a celebration. They play a symphony for William, who has apparently died. They play a tune with dense and radiant harmonies, and a resonance that ends up like birds. Finally they play Ives' Country Band March, the famous one with all the bum notes.

It's over. The audience applauds. They file out.

Ahh, says Le Bon David, music. I don't think I get it.

What's to get? asks Freud. It's just notes.

But they're supposed to mean something, says Le Bon David. And I never know what.

You must have known in that last one, says Freud, It was a country band, going haywire.

Yes, I did, I suppose, but I don't see the point of deliberately playing badly, says Le Bon David.

It's a musical joke, says Freud. A MUSICAL JOKE, David. Of which there are many.

I have never got one, says David. Tell me just one that is funny.

They aren't funny, says Freud. They are CLEVER.

Stop using CAPITALS, says David.

That's what they do, says Freud. But not always. Not today.

Ahh, says David. Not today. Would you like a coffee?

Yes, says Freud.  Where shall we go?