.

7:38pm: OFFICIAL NOTICE
I'm deleting pretty much all entries in this thing. I'm finding I just blabbed too much, I don't like the thought of all that blabber "out there" in the world, and really, they were mostly drivel anyway. However, I'm saving this one, because this little stop along memory lane will always, ALWAYS make me smile.

-------------------------------

(Originally posted Sept. 2004).

Sound asleep … asleep with the radio..
Your favorite show.
They play the song … the one that hits your heart
From the start

By 7th & 8th grade, I was hardly what one would call a ‘normal’ kid. When other girls were playing with makeup & listening to Prince, I was firmly entrenched in the 1960’s. I ferreted away every nickel of my hard-earned allowance to buy Beatles albums, and would run home from school, shut myself in my room, clamp on the headphones, and transport myself to 1965. When I’d procured every bit of their vinyl I could get my hands on, I graduated to ‘the hard stuff’ … The Who and the Rolling Stones (*gasp*) strutted their way into my collection. Then came the sad day my mother caught me by the arm, ripping my newest acquisition from my grasp “Oh no, we don’t bring records with crotch zippers into the house!” I knew I was left with only one choice – devise complex plans to smuggle the goods home, past the Gestapo, & up to my room. I even dabbled in 70’s rock & glam – KISS and Cheap Trick were most definitely illicit contraband, so I took great pains to make that smuggling job incredibly (and unnecessarily) intricate.

By 9th grade (and despite it actually being 1982 and Detroit), it was all about 1960’s Brighton. I ate, slept and breathed Quadrophenia. I even wore a ridiculous green parka with a Union Jack pinned to the back. One fateful day I passed a girl in the school hallway wearing a black trench coat with the same flag. We locked eyes, and knew instinctively that we’d either have to brawl or become best friends (thankfully, we chose the later). Liz brought to the table an old scooter and a bass guitar; I of course had a record collection large enough to sink the Titanic. We were instantly thick as thieves, and would spend every day after school (under the guise of “studying”) picking over lyrics & chords, teaching ourselves to thump out sloppy renditions on the bass. Oh yes, we fancied ourselves rock stars. We had “The Kids Are Alright” down to a science, and planned to play it at the next school talent show, if only we could find a guitarist & drummer (ah, the best of plans mislaid; we never did).

I probably would’ve wasted away in a 60’s haze, but for one auspicious night. I often stayed up quite late, hidden deep under the covers with the radio blaring through my headphones. I’d learned to cleverly duct-tape over the red “power on” light, so my room wouldn’t glow red should the Gestapo check in to see if I was sleeping. I’d just finished listening to & recording The King Biscuit Flour Hour’s “British Invasion Night”, and was surfing the dial, even though it was well past midnight. It was a clear spring night, so my reception was unusually good. I suddenly picked up something called CBC Radio – Canada! It might as well of been Shri Lanka, it felt so exotic! “You’re listening to Brave New Waves” the announcer’s voice crooned. Then *bam*, a bass line so amazingly thick, thumpy, and dancey that it hits me like a sack of bricks. I sat straight up in bed, it was impossible not to dance. It was very old-school ska/mod, yet it was NEW! The singer’s voice was deep, angsty, and oh so cockney! The featured artist that night was The Jam, and I had just discovered “A Town Called Malice”. I was completely smitten. In one night, with one song, The Who had been dethroned.

I eagerly tuned the dial the next night – it couldn’t possibly be that good again. Oh god, but it was. “Do It Clean”, Echo and the WHAT??! Ridiculous name, but who cares – it was brilliant! I’d been “going with” (what a stupid term that was) a boy who worked at the only indie-ish record store in town (convenient, wasn’t it?), so I commanded him to order up every artist I heard on that show. The Beatles were quickly displaced by the The Smiths, The Cure, Elvis Costello, The English Beat, Squeeze and Roxy Music… and on & on. My vinyl collection filled my entire closet (in retrospect, how could my parents not have known??!) I spent the remainder of the 9th grade flunking school on 3-4 hours of sleep and handfuls of NoDoze, but I could not have been happier. I was utterly hooked, a new wave junkie, and I never (well, seldom…. ok often) looked back.

So this one’s for you, Brave New Waves, for rescuing me from one oblivion and sending me gleefully straight into another.