Security of the First Words

I have verbal diarrhoea. Whether spoken or typed, I really cannot shut up. It probably terrifies people, or at the very least, bores them to tears. I’d like to think that there are some nuggets of wisdom amongst the tonnes of dirt that people have to sift through when indulging in a conversation with me, but I suppose that’s completely subjective. Either way, I carry on regardless.

I’m beginning to think this might be losing me friends, so I thought I’d start looking for an alternative outlet for all this crap that seems to float around in my head morning, noon, and especially, night. Considering I’ve been online since 1997 (initially very sporadically, pretty much constantly since the summer of 1998, when the company I worked for at the time magically gave my PC internet access), I’m surprised I’ve never written a blog before. So here it is – World Of Quicksand – think Land Of Leather, only without the constant sale, without the interest free credit, and for that matter, without the leather!!!

Land of Leather: Probably a sale on, but they don't sell quicksand

At this early stage, I am planning on writing chiefly about music. I know Elvis Costello once said, “Writing about music is like dancing about architecture…” and I’d be inclined to agree with him, but I’ll hopefully be writing about my experiences with music rather than the music itself. Hopefully somebody will find a modicum of interest in this, and somebody might even find it mildly amusing. If not, I would ask you to bear with me – I hate to quote D:Ream, but “You’re the best thing, I’ve ever had…” Hang on; wrong D:Ream song – I would ask you to bear with me, because as D:Ream sang, “Things, can only get better!”. Don’t expect me to start dancing around in a tartan suit though! Not even about architecture!

The “confessions of an ageing indie kid” thing – that probably needs elaborating upon a little. I am in my 30s, and celebrating 21 years since I first had an inkling for music that was a bit “left of centre”. I should probably start from the beginning, as by way of an introduction to me, seeing as this is my first post and all that. Are you sitting comfortably? Then I shall begin…

I was late getting into music – my parents weren’t really into it in a big way, although my earliest memories are being sat down to Manhattan Transfer’s "Chanson D'Amour" and Father Abraham’s “The Smurf Song”, which must mean that they detected an involuntary reaction to melody in the toddler version of me. Strangely, I can also remember Ian Dury and The Blockheads “Hit Me With Your Rhythm Stick” and Sparks’ “This Town Ain’t Big Enough For The Both Of Us”, but that must have been a result of being plonked in front of the radio whilst my mum did the housework - I can't see either of them going out and buying stuff like that, not when there was stuff like Boney M to buy!

Manhattan Transfer: "...rat-de-tat-de-tat!!!"

The first record I bought, or rather badgered my mum into buying me from Woolworth’s, was “Prince Charming” by Adam & The Ants. I loved Adam Ant, which probably worried my old man no end, but at that age I also loved Worzel Gummidge. I was as likely to end up wondering around in makeup and frilly shirts as I was getting a job as a scarecrow! After that, for some reason, all went quiet, until about 1986. Then it was stuff out of the charts – Erasure, The Bangles, The Communards…I felt I was growing up; maybe it was the first stirrings of puberty. I continued the obsession with the charts for a few more years – I think it was 1990 when I finally gave up – but something profound happened in 1987…

I used to regularly watch “The Chart Show” on Friday nights on Channel 4. This was before it transferred to Saturday mornings on ITV (or Granada, as we called it in those days), and it was quite cult viewing really – none of my peers had even heard of it. I liked it because they showed all the pop videos of songs in the charts (no shit) – at the time, I only really had Top Of The Pops to “see” music, as it were. But on top of this, they had these specialist charts, with other music I’d never heard the like of before. I didn’t really like any of it, but one song seemed to be on week after week – it’s squealing chorus burning itself into my brain so much that I found it going around in my head constantly. Can you guess what it is yet? Ten house points if you got “Birthday” by The Sugarcubes. Cool eh? Not what most 11-year olds are into, not around these parts, anyway. And that was it for “indie” music really, I didn’t give it all a second thought for some time – I went back to Erasure and Wet Wet Wet.

Fast-forward a year, and most of my spare time was spent listening to the radio. I was obsessed with it. Our local station was called Marcher Sound, which was pretty slick for tin pot local radio in the 1980s. I used to listen to it in the morning before school, straight after school, and then most of the evening. I’m not saying I didn’t watch telly, but it seemed to take a backseat somewhat, and I was still to discover girls, at least properly. (by that I mean drinking Diamond White down the park with them, although that wouldn’t be far off). I became so engrossed in radio that I even started entering the phone-in competitions…

Marcher Sound: "Your Station, Your Sound!"

One of the DJs had an “indie” show called “MFM” on a Saturday or Sunday evening. Spence McDonald was his name. I can’t say I listened to it as a rule, but it was on. There was a competition to win the latest Sugarcubes single (“Deus”), and all you had to do was phone in and tell Spence from what country The Sugarcubes came. I phoned in and told him it was Iceland, and I won. He actually sent me a big bag of indie singles, to make up for the fact my prize took weeks to arrive. (amongst them was “Finest Worksong” by REM on IRS Records – probably worth a few quid now.) So now I had an indie record collection, at 12! I played them sporadically, in amongst the house music and hip-hop that was becoming my preference (I wasn’t that cool, I still listened to Deacon Blue and Hue & Cry more than anything else). Then, in 1989, it really happened. Two words – “Fools” and “Gold”…

I remember watching that fabled episode of Top Of The Pops in late 1989 with The Stone Roses and Happy Mondays on. I wasn’t really that impressed to be honest, but that bloody funky drummer beat of “Fools Gold” just kept hammering me and hammering me until I could take no more. That, and a song called “Shine On” by The House Of Love….early 1990 and I was lost to the cause.

That was it. My life would never be the same again. I found new friends based on this new music I was into, started looking at different girls, started growing my hair, wearing flares, spending every penny I could get my hands on at Phase One Records in Wrexham. That’s pretty much how my life is now….all my friends tend to be into similar music to me and the taste for indie girls hasn’t diminished (I don’t think I’ve ever had a girlfriend who wasn’t nuts about music). I can’t really grow my hair any more, I have tight Levi’s on at the moment, and I rarely buy music, but the sentiment is the same. Only I’m in my 30s now, and I’m rapidly turning into a grumpy old man - youthful exuberance has been replaced by ardent cynicism, but I still loves my music. I’m still an indie kid at heart. I’m hoping that will make this a reasonably interesting blog…I could be wrong, I could be right, to quote Public Image Limited. Cue Peter Cunnah…