If you have a spare £7,600 lying around (and who doesn't?), you might want to enrol in the Rock'n'Roll Fantasy Camp, and spend a week being taught to play by Pink Floyd drummer Nick Mason, Bill Wyman, and original Beatle Pete Best, before recording in Abbey Road studios and performing a gig at The Cavern Club. Think about it; with the tag-line "Step out of the boardroom and into the spotlight!", this could be your chance to star in Mid Life Crisis: The Musical.
But! The idea of lucre-lubricated packages allowing CEOs to experience a musical "scene" does have legs. It's surely only a matter of time before some entrepreneurial spark concocts The Good Ship Albion Cruise, where Dominic Masters will be on hand like a post-watershed children's party entertainer to paint track-marks on boarding passengers, who will automatically fail the Pete Doherty seminar by turning up.
An Emo Extravaganza – doubtless helmed by Chief Sadomascararist Pete Wentz – might work, but is probably best avoided unless you want to look really old (or can crowbar your way into skinny jeans from Top Man's Defying the Laws of Physics range). But one based around Britpop – where Jarvis Cocker will be paid to moon your graduation ceremony – has potential. Entirely coincidentally, yet contributing no end to the atmosphere, it's probably likely that the taxi you arrive in will be driven by one of Menswear.
You can imagine a Madchester-themed retreat (2.4 Hour Party People) treating Haç-beens to valuable lessons in incoherence from Shaun Ryder ("No! That sentence contained a clause!"), while the slogan for the Noughties Esperanto Indie weekend hosted by Keane might be, "Step out of the corporate environment and into ... a group containing even more people who look like accountants".
What else? I would suggest a course taught by Mark E Smith but chances are if you have even a passing interest in music, you've probably already been in the Fall. Even the guitar-intolerant harbour unfulfilled dreams of stardom, and for poptimists, I'd like to posit Team Building With The Sugababes which would consist of literally building a new team.
Given the endless pilfering of the decade, a Now That's What I Call The 80s! Retreat is a safe bet. After all, if you're going to spend close to eight grand, you might as well have The KLF burn your money for you.
