Kenny G Soft Rocks

As The New York Times so deftly puts it, “There are many things about modern China that defy easy explanation: parents posing their children next to live tigers, the sight of grown women wearing furry cat-ear headbands while shopping, the performance-art-like spectacle of strangers napping together in Ikea display beds.” Per a new Times report, the most perplexing phenomenon in modern China might be the country’s ongoing love affair with a 25-year-old Kenny G song called “Going Home.” For years the song has been piped into public venues such as malls, schools, train stations, and fitness centers to signal the end of operating hours. At one famous antiques market, the song plays on loop for 90 minutes to drive home the point. When the Times asked the manager of the facility why she’s been using “Going Home” as her exit music since 2000, she replied, “Isn’t it just played everywhere?” Seemingly no one can explain how the song came to be so popular in China, including Kenny G himself, who told the Times he doesn’t ask a lot of questions about it because he likes to preserve the mystery and that he saves the song for last when he plays “because I don’t want everyone going home early.” Read the full report here, and watch footage of the song being played in China below.

[Photo by Slaven Vlasic/Getty Images.]

Comments (4)
  1. Man, just when I thought China was starting to really suck, they go and do something like this which completely restores my faith in them.

    This of course reminds me of the episode of ‘The Office’ where Andy plays ‘Closing Time’ every single night before going home.

    Stanley rules.

  2. I initially scrolled past this on facebook thinking it was an Onion article

  3. So, I had a surreal moment in the Cairo airport once. It was about 3 in the morning. I was there with two friends of mine leaving after a week in Egypt. We got to the airport 6 hours early because we were petrified of missing our flight and being forced to communicate with someone to explain what happened and find a way to get our penniless bodies across the border. The airport was a cavernous empty tomb, and after passing through security there wasn’t a soul in the place for several hours. And the whole time we were there, from walking through the doors to stepping on to the plane, they had the same Kenny G song playing on repeat.

    Kenny G. over and over and over and over… It just echoed off the ceiling and down the hallways. It was like the place was haunted by the Egyptian mummy ghost of Kenny G. Like Kenny G had been the Egyptian god of the dead and this was the song that he played as you passed down the reeded river from life, through the veil of darkness and beyond into an ocean of fire and eternal pain.

    We just sat against a wall staring dumbly into the abyss as the song deformed and twisted into grotesque shapes above our heads. There was a point in the middle when I was in a half conscious state that I came to perfect enlightened clarity and understood why someone would desire to strap explosives to their chest and ignite themselves. It was as if the best commentary that anyone could make about the destructive nature of capitalist western culture could be summed up in the simple repetition of this arrogant horn song. It was like I was being told, “Hello American. This is why you must die. this. this. this. this. this. this…”

    To this day, whenever I hear Kenny G playing over a supermarket PA system I feel the icy hand of death as it wraps around my throat and I think, “How did we ever let things go this far?”

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