Doctor Crotchety, my ranting alter ego, is in a right grump. Why? Because the opportunity to play great music is so often missed. Instead, we are surrounded by the fast food equivalent of music: the ubiquitous Ibizan chill in every wannabe hotel or bar, the random death metal track from the shuffling iPod in a restaurant, the badly cooked selections on endless repeat, piped into planes, shops and waiting rooms.

The Doctor wants to tackle this. Do you have ailments of the quaver or crotchet kind? Tell me – prescriptions will be issued every week in this Saturday surgery.

Dear Doctor,
My best friend is getting married and needs a romantic first dance. She likes Beyoncé and Bob Dylan. She doesn't want anything naff, anti-feminist or too familiar.
Let's start with a quote: "I'll let you be in my dreams, if I can be in yours." Who said this? Well, randomly enough, this is Beyoncé quoting Bob Dylan on Instagram. And it's tempting to suggest the plainly not-very-feminist Lay, Lady, Lay, followed by stiletto-stomping Independent Women by Destiny's Child, but it has to be not too familiar, so we're going left-field…

Prescription First, a Gypsy lament soaked with centuries of emotion – Caje, Sukarije by Balkan band Paprika, which starts with a tango-esque melody, allowing those newly-wed bodies to slink on to the dancefloor and sway like charmed snakes. The track soon breaks into a frenzy, which calls for some perfect-in-that-frothy-white-dress pogoing. Next, Fanfare Ciocarlia, whose trumpets, tuba and drums (together with Bulgarian Roma singer Jony Iliev's shouts of "Mig! Mig!") will goad the crowd into turbo gear. This'll give the bride ample chance to mop up any spilt red wine with her hem. Nice.

• What musical advice do you need? Post your questions in the thread below