I can't dance to that music you're playing

A friend of mine used to work in a petrol station where, as some sort of inhumane experiment, the managers insisted that the local radio station (the inappropriately-named Cool FM) be played at all times. This poor sod would frequently come home from an eight-hour shift of Whitney Houston, hopeless puns and petrol fumes with the most unbelievable migraine. As well as a bizarre appreciation for the early works of Billy Joel.

When this sort of environmental terrorism is perpetrated by management, you can't really argue. But USAToday reports that more and more people are using their ipod at work. And not just with headphones. The bastards are using speakers to 'treat' their co-workers to the shuffled contents of their music library.

Obviously, this wouldn't be a problem in my office, where my superlative taste in music is a well-established fact. But what if you worked with Sam Glazer? He told the paper: "I love music, and it's motivating to me, especially if it's a power song like Eye of the Tiger."

Holy mother of fuck! How have his colleagues not yet murdered him with spiky poles? Nobody should be subjected to Eye of the Tiger. Not in the workplace. Not in Guantanamo. Not ever.

Later in the article, a health and safety officer warns that using an ipod could stop workers "hearing warnings shouted by co-workers."

Exactly. Such warnings may include "Sam, you cretin, if you don't turn off your ipod I will set fire to you right now", or "I am running towards you with a pair of scissors, you lame-music-liking son of a whore."

To be fair, there have been studies suggesting that certain types of music stimulate creativity and motivation in the workplace. But, as anyone who's worked in hospital radio will tell you, it's an extremelly bad idea to let the people around you choose that music. So please, people, stick to headphones from now on.

And what became of my friend in the garage? Well, after a particularly harrowing Beautiful South 'marathon' on the local radio station, he finally lost his nerve. Loading up one of his own CDs into the company soundsystem, he treated the forecourt to an all-evening loop of Snoop Doggy Dogg's For All My Niggaz & Bitches. Needless to say, he never darkened the automatic doors again.

USA Today

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