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Looking through Gary Gilmour's ears
Jul. 15th, 2005 11:25 amI think it's obvious to anyone with sense in their heads that my LJ title writing skills owe a great deal (about sixty quid, I should think) to the NME. Specifically the 80's version. Now, I knew about 'the hip-hop wars' (Rockists vs. a variety of Pauls, by and large) from reading the 40th birthday edition, but it was nice to have it all explained again the other week by the nice men and women from the television. There they were, banging on about how terrible and confusing it was for the poor readers not to have a consistent party line (Bloody middle-class SWP-think right there) and having to deal with the 'yoof suicide' issue (or the computer games or pirate radio ditto) and rambling articles about failing to interview Madonna...
... And I'm left thinking 'well actually chaps, I rather liked it like that.'
Of course it's never that simple. I recall being bloody infuriated by the idea that some fresh-up-to-London nonce was wasting time and print over Kid Creole and the Coconuts, Set the Tone and Blue Rondo a la Turk rather than The Luddites or Husker Du. However, those earnest attempts at idealogical soundness informed many odd corners of my record collection and saved me from being a monochrome bedroom g*th.
Mind you, it's probably more true to say that I was never in any real danger of that because of who I am and where I was. The NME, Peelie and Driftin' Records (and Badlands) were there for anyone who was interested.
Travelling forwards in time (can one travel 'forwards' in time, or are the directions better named 'scree', 'blart', 'ftumpsh' and 'piddle'?), I discovered this. Yes, that probably used to be a link into gopherspace. Anyway, I Was There. If I had any minor shred of rock&roll cred, I'd go on about some random free festival that I'd blagged into while in the back of Hawkwind's bus aged six and three quarters. (Though there was this thing at Clyro Court once, but apparently only half of Hawkwind turned up...) Since I haven't, though, what little I can remember of wandering a campsite in Lelystadt in 1993 and being shown The Internet by an anarchist hacking collective from Amsterdam will have to do. That weekend changed my life.
... And I'm left thinking 'well actually chaps, I rather liked it like that.'
Of course it's never that simple. I recall being bloody infuriated by the idea that some fresh-up-to-London nonce was wasting time and print over Kid Creole and the Coconuts, Set the Tone and Blue Rondo a la Turk rather than The Luddites or Husker Du. However, those earnest attempts at idealogical soundness informed many odd corners of my record collection and saved me from being a monochrome bedroom g*th.
Mind you, it's probably more true to say that I was never in any real danger of that because of who I am and where I was. The NME, Peelie and Driftin' Records (and Badlands) were there for anyone who was interested.
Travelling forwards in time (can one travel 'forwards' in time, or are the directions better named 'scree', 'blart', 'ftumpsh' and 'piddle'?), I discovered this. Yes, that probably used to be a link into gopherspace. Anyway, I Was There. If I had any minor shred of rock&roll cred, I'd go on about some random free festival that I'd blagged into while in the back of Hawkwind's bus aged six and three quarters. (Though there was this thing at Clyro Court once, but apparently only half of Hawkwind turned up...) Since I haven't, though, what little I can remember of wandering a campsite in Lelystadt in 1993 and being shown The Internet by an anarchist hacking collective from Amsterdam will have to do. That weekend changed my life.
