Most likely bought in 2000, most likely in York
Of this I am certain: I had this record when I started university. I distinctly remember it being CD number one in my revolving CD rack (even then I was keen to keep them in alphabetical order). Everything else about owning this record is up for my unwitting revisionism.
I cannot remember what prompted me to get this record, so there is a danger of me rationalising such a purchase. I was 17 or 18 at the time, an age when one’s music tastes (well, mine anyway) are not fully formed. I don’t think it would have been a conscious thought at the time, but it does look to me now like a CD to make my collection look a little more broad, a little more eclectic. Compared to the other records I had at the time, it was heavy. But listening to it now, and knowing more about what is out there, this record is fairly flimsy.
I’d always dabbled in heavier music, but never really got on with the metals or the rawk. John, a friend at school, introduced me to Guns N’ Roses and (just months before Cobain’s death) Nirvana, but that was about as heavy as I could take back then. Years later I recall with embarrassment (and a little pride) the time I went up to the rock night DJ in a Reading club and requested the absolute heaviest thing I could think of. “Excuse me, have you got any Idlewild?”
The response I got from that DJ convinced me I was in the wrong place, but soon afterwards I found where I was supposed to be: at a club that liked to call itself ‘legendary’. For seven years I frequented the After Dark Club in Reading, and when I’m back in town I always endeavour to pop in to make sure it’s the same old place (13 years after my first time, it more or less is).
Nowadays I tend to wander in long after the place has filled up, but back then I would be one of the first through the door. It would be very quiet, save for a couple of old guys playing dominos, and another couple of old guys playing pool in the back. Before the hoards arrived (requesting ‘She Bangs The Drums’ and ‘Song 2’, every week) resident DJs Tom and Johnnie would play stuff that they were excited about themselves. In early 2001 that was At The Drive-In’s ‘One Armed Scissor’ and Trail Of Dead’s ‘Mistakes & Regrets’.
There’d be only three or four of us dancing on the stage, the room otherwise empty. But I was so excited to hear music that I actually wanted to hear and dance to, it did not matter. Not even a little bit drunk at this point (about 10pm) we would throw ourselves around to new music. For the first time since moving away from home, I truly felt I was where I belonged.
I remember one time after I’d danced myself silly to one song another came on, even fresher than the last. Little did I know that it was Debaser from 1989. “This is amazing! What is this?” I asked either Alec or Andy, my fellow dancers. “It’s the Pixies!” they replied, a mix of excitement and incredulity. The fresh tune was ‘Debaser’ from 1989. 18-year-old students know nothing.
One of my ways of combatting ignorance was by heeding the advice of my good friend Oggy, whom I dubbed ‘Music Guru of the Nineties’. I would pick up tips from older siblings about older music, but left on my own I had no clue about decent contemporary stuff. I relied on Oggy, who would always seem to have his finger a little closer to the pulse than I ever did. It is highly likely that Trail of Dead was one of his recommendations, possibly pulled from one of the NMEs (then still credible) and Melody Makers (then still existent) piled high in his attic bedroom. As his influence on my taste was a constant for at least seven years, I expect there’ll be many CDs on this blog that were bought on his say-so.
I feel I cannot judge Madonna fairly. I can;t remember buying it, why I bought it, or when I stopped listening to it. I saw Trail of Dead a year or so ago, and I’d not listened to it for a long time. Their failure to live up to my ancient adolescent expectations still smarts. Large sections of it are difficult to listen to, and not in the challenging provocative way. I’m trying to avoid laziness here, but it is too easy to say that Madonna sounds like a record of choice for a sixth former who thinks too much but not too well. Name-checking John Lennon’s killer makes me feel even more uncomfortable than it did then, and lyrics like the following from ‘Aged Dolls’ make me cringe:
Drip... drip on to the tombs of the soulless...
Drip on to your aorta...
Drip as fiery cinder
On to this sweltering town
So I'm sweet on you
I am transparent
So I'm sweet on you
I am a motherfucking ghost
But for all the embarrassing bits, there’s still much to enjoy on the album. Had I not been doing this project I might never have heard ‘Flood of Red’ again, and ‘Mistakes & Regrets’ sounds as kicking as it ever did in the After Dark. And the drums are a chaotic joy. Even after all this time they sound like they're about to fall apart on most of the songs, but they tighten up at the last moment each time.
It was not a mistake to buy it; I don’t regret not putting it on the CD player for a decade or more. It’s good to listen and check, but it’s equally good to put it back on the shelf.
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