The fanfare has died down, the applause ceased, the hysteria waned, the panic dissipated, the pedestal we sat upon has been removed and the baking sun over Rome has set and been replaced by a lukewarm yellow blob in the sky that emits a half arsed, limp excuse for summer.
I am married. I have the ring to prove it. The euphoria of the past 10 days has been replaced with a tinge of sadness that the party is over, but also happiness that it existed and I have something to show for it. My beautiful bride.
At any monumental event in your life, it is difficult not to become a little nostalgic, to look back at your life and think about where you've come from, who you've been and what has influenced you. Over the past week and a half or so, give or take, I’ve found myself un-consciously reminiscing, even if just about the day before. I’ve been in a room with a lot of love, friends and family, you look at their faces and their smiles and you think. I created the playlist to soundtrack the weekend (band not withstanding) so there was a lot of music from my early years that my parents played me and my teenage years with my best friends, now all mid-thirties like me, married, 2.4 children, mortgages and bills, bills, bills. Stood in that room with them at those times transported me. Songs, lyrics and moments that we have shared in the past.
The effect music has on your memory is undeniable, like the sound of a place, or smell or touch. A sensory overload. Now that I sit here and think about those moments, there have been more created in this past fortnight, new memories made. Our first dance was to Paul Weller’s “You Do Something to Me”. That will forever now be that moment, in that room, in that house. Stood outside, smoking a cigar, sipping on a brandy with my best man and best friends, the band played The Killers’ “Mr Brightside”. At the end of the night I was drunkenly going through my laptop picking out songs, and dancing with my Godfather and Mum to “All or Nothing” by The Small Faces.
In the past month, we’ve booked tickets for two anniversary gigs. In early May, The Bluetones announced a tour celebrating the 20th birthday of their debut single and then on our wedding day, my wife was on her phone getting tickets for Maximo Park’s debut album “A Certain Trigger” 10th anniversary tour. Special albums a decade or two ago, being celebrated the year we get married will just add to the memory of our wedding. Add to that the wealth of brilliant records released this year already as I’ve mentioned numerously in previous blogs over the past 6 months. Maybe I haven’t been paying close enough attention before, but there seems to be more quality this year. Some really special bands and artists emerging like Desperate Journalist and Eaves.
In 10, 20, 30 years I will look back at 2015 and remember. I have the sort of memory that will forget what someone said to me this morning, what we did two days ago, or what we are doing at the weekend, but will remember that Don’t Look Back in Anger was No.1 in March 1996. I’ll know the year and events by when particular albums were released, what festivals I went to and who won the F.A Cup. I seem to link years and music and other things I am interested in together and will remember other things that happened that year. Or at least be able to say that it was around the time something happened, such as finishing school, or starting University or moving house.
The past few weeks will live with me forever and everything that happens this year will get woven into it all.
Life goes on. Normality has returned. The work computer stares me in the face, the twin screen glare numbing the senses. The flat needs a clean, there’s washing up to do and hoovering. Glamourous Indie Rock’n’Roll!
A Footnote
What with the brilliant news about The Bluetones reformation for the 20th birthday of their first chart birth (sic) myself and the wife had a debate as to whether “Expecting to Fly” was a classic album. Her argument was that it wouldn’t be universally appreciated, for example, if it was put on at a party. Admittedly, it isn’t really an album for such an occasion. I would say it was more of a self-indulgent, headphones on in an empty flat kind of a record. Her nomination to the Auton House Hall of Fame was Ocean Colour Scene’s “Moseley Shoals” that we'd been listening to. I was inclined to agree with her. That was a party album. We decided to put it to the test so put ETF on whilst whiling the last few hours of sunshine drenched honeymoon on our balcony with a nice glass of Sancerre.
Although we never actually rubber stamped it in words, I think it was granted entry to the pantheon of classic albums. To say there isn’t a weak song on the record, damns it with faint praise. That it is un-appreciated and under rated is to give it a back handed compliment. To say that every song on there is a piece of Indie Pop GENIUS, is closer to the truth. From the opening slow burning roar of the aeroplane and the almost liquid bassline before clean chords chime to pre-empt “Talking to Clarry” bursting into life, to the final strains of the repeated refrain at the end of “Time & Again”, no filler to be found. No Indie Disco is fit to call itself such without “Bluetonic”, “Cut some rug” or “Slight Return”. The majesty of “Things Change” anthemic crescendo.
There is a standard of songwriting that should be held in the same esteem as the greats of the era, Noel Gallagher, Damon Albarn, Jarvis Cocker. Mark Morriss’ lyrics should be thought of in the same way as Jarvis is on “Different Class” and “His ’n’ Hers”. Even that he twisted the poem ‘Celia, Celia’ by Adrian Mitchell into the opening lines of Bluetonic shows Morriss in a different league to most of his rivals, “When I am sad and weary, when all my hope is gone, I walk around my house and, think of you with nothing on”.
Devastatingly, my battered, bruised but fully intact CD copy, with 1997 Brit Award nomination sticker still resplendent on the box, toppled from on top of the stereo and clattered against a metal box, shattering the hinges. Whilst I do have my vinyl obsession, I take pride in my CD’s, I’ve been described as anal, especially about the older ones, the classics and the rare 90’s first editions. When a friends child took an interest and started pulling them out of the shelves I apparently visibly winced and looked decidedly uncomfortable.
So replacing the box wouldn’t really do. It was the original.
In my wine and sun addled state, I took to the internet to find a vinyl original. Of course Discogs had a list with records in various states but according to the description, a “Near Mint” copy will be winging it’s way to me very soon from a record shop in Leiden, The Netherlands. It was a little on the pricey side, but damn the expense.
In my list of All-time Top 5 albums (how very High Fidelity, but everyone must have one) the fifth spot is a bit interchangeable. The top four is unlikely to change. Fourth, Third and Second could be in any order really, and are made up of, Abbey Road – The Beatles, The Bends – Radiohead and Definitely Maybe – Oasis, but first is definitely Attack of the Grey Lantern – Mansun. However, for a while now “Expecting to Fly” has been occupying that fifth spot.
Now that The Bluetones debut is very soon to be added to my ever expanding vinyl collection, that only leaves two from my top 5 missing in vinyl. “The Bends” is readily available in HMV so hasn’t been high on the priority list, but “AotGL” is another story. I took a peek on Discogs to see if there happened to be a copy. I had seen a post on social media that someone had sold one on eBay for around the £60 mark, which was described as a “mind boggling” amount, something I disagreed with, and even said I would probably have paid £100 for it. These are few and far between and I wish I’d known as my search on Discogs was fruitless. One day.....
P.S I wrote this last week and never got round to editing and posting it. Since then, I have had a notification from Discogs telling me that a copy of "AOTGL" on double vinyl had been found in a record shop Germany. I didn't waste any time on this occasion and it is currently en route to me. It may not have been cheap but who cares. The wife was even very understanding. Married life is proving quite agreeable.
No comments:
Post a Comment