Everything Everywhere All At Once

There's a lot to be said for the ease of living in the streaming age, but is the instant availability of so much film, music, TV and information restricting instead of expanding our imaginations and horizons?

In the long-gone pre-internet days of the late-seventies and early-eighties, when Britain was still in black and white, radio was driven by steam and TVs still took about a week to warm up before you could watch anything, entertainment was a matter of picking the best (or at least most bearable) of what was put before you.

This meant that, by osmosis, an inquiring young mind could pick up a working knowledge of world politics if they stuck with Brian Walden's 'Weekend World' long enough after the incongruous hard rock strains of Mountain's 'Nantucket Sleighride' had faded, or a taste for the sublime elegance of pre-Technicolor comedians like Laurel & Hardy and Harold Lloyd if they happened to land on BBC2 while searching for a post-school distraction.

How many of us, like every member of The League of Gentlemen, had our brains rewired and our tastes forever altered by those BBC2 Saturday night double bills of a Universal monster movie and a blood-drenched Hammer horror classic?

It's the same with music. 70s/80s Radio One, for all its Our Tune and Arnold the Dog cheesiness, exposed young listeners to sounds they might never have encountered, expanding minds and changing lives in the process - not just through niche strands like John Peel's late-night shows, but through the Sunday night top 40 countdown and the request show fronted by the irreplaceable Annie Nightingale.

This may be the most Old Geezer view imaginable, but I can't help feeling something vital has been lost now that impressionable minds can tailor their entertainment to their current tastes, 24 hours a day. The head-spinning sense of possibility when something comes at you from left field is a rare thing in the 21st century's carefully-curated environment.

It's a problem that applies to we supposed grown-ups, too. As we retreat further and further into our tribes, focusing only the information that suits us, many of us are increasingly less willing (less able?) to understand and accept other views. Shades of grey get washed out and every situation seems black and white, everyone either a hero or a villain. Nuance and complexity get ground down, until all that's left is the shouting. It's a situation that's hard to change when people are, at the touch of a button, instantly and comfortingly able to find someone who'll tell them that even their most outre opinions are not only perfectly acceptable, but somehow heroic.

Maybe, though, things haven't changed all that much. It takes effort, as it always has, to track down the best and most interesting art being made away from the mainstream, and that effort makes us cherish the hidden gems even more.

And there are still voices out there, even among the noise and constant drama of Twitter, dedicated to promoting and discussing the very best of film, music, theatre, books, art and everything else. If we can lift ourselves out of our self-created niches and listen to them every now and again instead of being sidetracked by those who make a living out of division, life can be a hell of a lot sweeter all round.

The good stuff's still out there, if you know where to look.