Saturday, September 11, 2010
So lets turn this shit up yo.
The first time I heard 'Nothing But a Heartache' was at a very low budget Northern Soul night above a pub in the Derbyshire town of Chesterfield about fifteen years ago. I seem to remember the music being played on one of those 'Disco Van' two turn tables and a microphone all-in-ones perched atop a randomly flashing home made light-box. I might be wrong but the entire proceedings definitely had an early evening tenth birthday party feel, to the extent where if the beer had been served in plastic beakers with a side of crisps and fairy cake it wouldn't have been massively out of place.
The sound was terrible and the majority of the clientele as clueless as I was: Not a bowling shoe, vest or baby powder puddle in sight (not a bad thing). Even so I still managed to get shit from somebody who was more 'Northern Soul' than I was (not exactly difficult) for dancing to it 'all wrong'. My interpretation of the music had been very much 'Elvis '68 comeback' hips and flailing arms. Apparently this was not how it was done...
Anyway, the song came to an end I asked the guy with the confusingly heavy metal hair and collection of 7" carry cases what I'd been listening to. I promptly forgot the name but not the song and after a couple of bad karaoke iterations to friends in the know managed to track down a copy of the album it appears on.
I'd like to be able to review the entire album, say that each track on it lives up to the promise of the record's opener. That the masterful orchestration and genuine sound of almost punk like urgency that makes the title track so compelling resonates through out but I can't. Truth be told I have never managed to get past that first track. Not because I have heard the first few bars of whatever comes next and opted out but because I can't help but skip back to the start in order to relive the total, utter and complete fucking glory of 'Nothing But a Heartache'. In the unlikely event that you don't know what I am talking about 'Nothing But a Heartache' goes something like this...
No, I have no idea why they are on the set of a Black Sabbath photo shoot either but I am already searching Ebay for a bright orange fitted jump suit. It's only a matter of time before this song ends up as a bi-line, a sampled beat or backbone to some Beyonce bullshit musical poison in the same way The Four Season's 'Beggin' got re-appropriated by Madcon and then played out and to death so enjoy it while you can, before it' selling you some shoes you really don't need.
Or rather I have fucked off from 'the eagle'.
So why the long pause?
Nervous breakdown? So shocked by the piss-poor re-mastering of Duran Duran’s self titled debut that you have been unable to face daylight since it’s release?
Well there was that, but the main reason for my taking the foot off the proverbial gas was that my ramblings were in danger of turning into a diatribe of my seething hatred for my surroundings and circumstance. Thankfully both have since changed for the better and I can now say from safe distance:
FUCK BAVARIA AND FUCK A CERTAIN SPORTS FOOTWEAR BRAND.
But rather than going into deep and personal detail about the trials and tribulations of the past 24 months and how re-locating to ‘that’ part of Germany was the worst decision of my formative years, I will breathe deep and move on safe in the knowledge that what didn’t kill me at least armed me with an enviable collection of interesting Brazilian and German records.
I can’t let ‘Ze Deutcher experience’ go completely though, it has after-all stained me, filled me with such disdain for certain people, systems and situations that my experience will no-doubt provide teeth-grinding reference points throughout my witterings. But for now at least consider it ‘parked’. Besides, this is supposed to be a blog about listening habits and not my all consuming desire to set fire to the place I used to work.
So moving on, I also felt it important to revisit and re-activate 32prm because I now have a different angle, an ace in the hole, a perspective that was not there before. NO, I didn’t become a Wings completist and shell out a grand for the picture disc of ‘Back To The Egg’…. I am going to be a dad. A Goddamn shit-sucking dad.
Each father before me has uttered the same weary and tired-eyed line ‘It changes everything y’know…’ So safe in the knowledge that my world really is about to be turned upside down for ever, lets see what it does to my listening habits…
Oh and as a footnote. It hasn't escaped me that it is 'that' day. RIP WTC Krew, my thoughts are with you as always.