'Down Under' - Men At Work (1982)

“He just smiled and gave me a Vegemite sandwich.”

Late Sunday afternoons at the turn of the ‘80s. 5 to 7pm. Fingers poised over the Play and Record buttons of my tape recorder. Which is pressed up against the single speaker of my AM radio. (We’re still a few years away from built-in stereo systems in my house.) All set for ‘the nation’s favourite countdown’ with Tony Blackburn on Radio One. 

There I would be week in, week out. Systematically killing music by home taping all my favourite Top 40 songs. In mono. Over a distorted speaker. With Tony Blackburn speaking over all the intros and outros. And my Mum calling me down for dinner half-way through whatever was number one that week.  

By my side would be my trusty Star Wars A4 notebook. Where I would jot down each chart act, song and position. Highlighting new entries. And indicating what was going up and what was going down. And by how many places. In different inks. All ready to be cross-referenced across weeks and months and years. An invaluable activity, I think you’d agree - and not at all related to my OCD.

As my musical tastes transformed in my teens (see every other post on this blog), I outgrew this weekly chart show ritual. And I went from the constant childhood excitement you get from liking almost every song in the chart, to the rare gothic thrill you’d get from hearing any of your bands getting played on the radio at all. And then I discovered the John Peel Show. But that’s for another post on another day. (Ooh, it’s like a cliffhanger. Except not quite.)   

'Temptation' - New Order (1982)

“Up, down, turn around,

Please don’t let me hit the ground. 

Tonight I think I’ll walk alone,

I’ll find my soul as I go home.”

Songs about walking home alone. Those are my favourite songs. (He says, with the right to change his mind at any time, so don’t hold me to it.) See also The Smiths’ ‘Rusholme Ruffians’ (“Though I walk home alone, my faith in love is still devout”) and The Wedding Present’s ‘My Favourite Dress’ (“A long walk home in the pouring rain, I fell asleep when you never came”).

Can’t get enough of them. 'Now That’s What I Call Some Good Songs About Walking Home Alone.’ I’d buy that album. (Are you listening record companies?)  

Of course, this is because I’ve spent far too much time traipsing around on my lonesome. Let’s just say it’s through choice and there’s a certain romanticism to it. (Except it’s not always. And for ‘romanticism’ read ‘bitter sting of rejection’.)

New Order’s ‘Temptation’ remains one of the most perfect songs to me. And marries my favourite theme of long walks home alone, with my second favourite theme of not being able to remember the colour of people’s eyes (“Oh, you’ve got green eyes; oh, you’ve got blue eyes; oh, you’ve got grey eyes”). It’s another of those songs that seems to capture one Saturday evening in March 1989 quite perfectly. The answer was she had grey eyes. Well, kind of more silver, but let’s not ruin my memory of the song.

Classic enigmatic Peter Saville cover.
With the band's name nowhere to be found. 

P.S. If you like your indie frontmen in white shorts, you'll love this performance from the archives...

'E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial' - John Williams (1982)

'How do you explain school to higher intelligence?'

"Hang on, Michael. Didn’t we do E.T. two months back?" Well, um, yes. But today we’re celebrating the film’s 30th birthday. Kind of. "Oh, this is going well." In the UK, the film wasn’t actually released until December 1982. Imagine that today. Having to wait six months for a Spielberg blockbuster. It would be illegally streaming half an hour after the first US screening. And even back then, it played a huge part in boosting the bootleg video market.

Eleven years old and very much a child of the Star Wars generation, I was a supernova of excitement for any and all sci-fi films. My mum was taking my sister and I to see it at the Empire Leicester Square on the first Saturday of release – this would be my first trip to a West End cinema. But calamity loomed. A boy in my year had got hold of a dodgy Betamax copy and brought it in to school on the Friday. And, for some unknown reason, one of the teachers decided it would be perfectly ok to hold a special assembly that afternoon and screen it for the whole school!? Not quite sure of either the educational value or moral lesson there.

Yes, it was certainly a welcome change from the ‘Way We Used To Live’ low budget dramas we were usually shown. But this wasn’t how I wanted to experience ‘E.T’ for the first time. Or any time. Poorly recorded and projected. Daylight streaming through the ill-fitting hall curtains. Russell trying to impress the row of girls in front with his remarkably poor "phoooone hoooome" impressions. So for two hours I sat with my eyes closed and my hands over my ears to avoid spoliers. And it just about worked. None of the magic of the London screening the next day was tarnished and it remains much loved. Happy birthday, E.T. !

   

Spotify linky:

John Williams – The Magic Of Halloween - Soundtrack Reissue (2002)

‘E.T. The Extra Terrestrial’ – Narrated by Michael Jackson (1982)

"When someone in the dark reaches out to you,

And touches off a spark that comes shining through,

It tells you never be afraid."

"What’s your favourite Michael Jackson album?" No-one ever asks me this. It won’t be making my new FAQs section (see last post).

So here’s a scoop: it’s the album above. Yep, in 1982, Michael Jackson sat down with Quincy Jones and narrated the story of ‘E.T’. And they threw it into a box set, with a glossy/creepy poster and a storybook. Now this probably deserves an FAQs section of its own, so here goes…

"Does Michael Jackson duet with E.T at any point?"

He actually does. Kinda. Before the story kicks in, Jacko treats us to one of his trademark saccharine ballads (sample lyrics above), accompanied by E.T. throwing out some of his catchphrases. It’s odd.

"Can you moonwalk to this album?"

Not really. It would look stupid.

"Any of the classsic John Williams score on this album?"

Yes. Lots. Except Jacko keeps talking over it. And there’s movie dialogue too. And all manner of sound effects. All of which Jacko continues to talk over. The effect is kind of like popping to the kitchen to put the kettle on while a softly spoken child describes all the bits of the film you’re missing on the telly.

"Does Jacko do any high-pitched yelping?"

I don’t think so. It’s hard to tell. I’m assuming all the high-pitched yelping belongs to E.T. and Gertie.

"Does he say 'Alli-ga-tors in the sewers'? Please tell us he says 'Alli-ga-tors in the sewers'." (The best line in the movie – fact!)

Nope, he doesn't.

And that’s all the questions we have time for today. Feel free to add any others to the comments below and I’ll make every effort to answer them. Probably. I'm off now to dig out my picture disc of Whitney Houston narrating 'Short Circuit 2'. 

‘Hex Enduction Hour’ – The Fall (1982)

"White collar hits motorway services;

It’s the hip priest.

From the eyes he can see they know;

It’s the hip priest."

"What’s this meant to be?!" That was pretty much the shared reaction from the sixth form common room whenever my friend Chris or I popped an album on the stereo. Which just encouraged us further. Climaxing in us attending a Prince-themed party with a copy of ‘Hex Enduction Hour’. Yes, I know. Let’s rewind. A lot to take in there.

One: Why am I at a party? Well, I think I went to about three parties in total between the years 1980 and, well, present day really. I like to go to one every decade to remind myself why I don’t go to more. Two: Prince-themed? Really? Yep, Chris and I had a mutual friend named Christopher ("Well, that's just confusing") who loved Prince and had a birthday bash every Christmas Eve. I think I’ve mentioned him before. Yes, I have, in my very first post. Keep up. Anyhoo… he lived on a steady diet of Prince. He had every record by his Purple Majesty you could imagine. ("Even the Black album before it was officially released?" Yep, even the Black album before it was officially released.) So any party Christopher held was in effect a Prince-themed party. Three: You’re taking 'Hex Enduction Hour' to a party? Well, it would seem so. But I can’t quite recall why. I think Chris and I were just so captivated by it at the time that we carried it around to share with people at every opportunity. Just look at that wonderful sleeve for starters. Banned from the windows and shelves of Virgin record stores at the time for being too amateurish, fact fans.  

Now after three hours of non-stop Prince records, I think you’ll agree it was about time someone hi-jacked the stereo. But I guess what you may not agree with is us hi-jacking the stereo to play such party floor fillers as ‘Jawbone and the Air-rifle’ and ‘Mere Pseud Mag. Ed’. We actually never made it that far through the album – from memory we got to about track three (‘Hip Priest’) before the revelers broke through our makeshift sofa cushion barrier and Prince was restored. You can perhaps now see why it was another ten years before I ventured out to my next party. But I left ‘Hex Enduction Hour’ at home that time.    

Spotify linky: 

The Fall – Hip Priest

On this day … 1982 (aged 11)

Scribblings from my diary …

“Play out with Richard and Nicola until 5.15pm, then watch ‘Metal Mickey’”

On this day ... 1982 (aged 11)

Scribblings from my diary …

“We recapture the Falkland Islands. Have a fight on the playing field.”

On this day ... 1982 (aged 11)

Scribblings from my diary ...

“Go to the cinema and see ‘Star Wars’ and ‘The Empire Strikes Back’. Buy a poster.”

On this day ... 1982 (aged 11)

Scribblings from my diary ...

“Learn Shakin’ Stevens’ ‘Oh Julie’ on my guitar.”

'Until I Believe In My Soul' - Kevin Rowland & Dexys Midnight Runners (1982)

“I was kind,
I was nice,
Where’s my prize?”

The first band I was in didn’t have a name. How very novel. It didn’t actually have any instruments either. It was my cousins Grant and Matthew. And me. With air guitars. And a drum kit made out of cardboard boxes. Each of us swapping roles with every song. It was all very odd behaviour for 21-year-olds. Only joking – ho, ho – we would have been about 11.

Our shows would take place in our grandparents’ front room, with a specially invited audience. ‘Specially invited’ meaning one of us would pop in to the back room mid-afternoon and ask our grandparents if they wanted to watch us basically shout along to some records for half an hour.

Dexys always sticks in my mind from those afternoons as ‘Too-Rye-Ay” was just out and came with a lyric sheet, so we’d sing along to almost every song off it. I remember we’d perform a particularly spirited version of ‘Until I Believe In My Soul’ – saxophone solo and all. Though I’m not sure how we got round the use of the f-word. I’m guessing one of us hovered over the volume knob.

Sadly for the world, musical differences didn’t pull us apart and we were soon learning real instruments for our next moment in the spotlight: The Bermuda Dimensions (yes, great name, I know). But more of that another time.

Spotify linky:
Dexy's Midnight Runners – Until I Believe In My Soul - BBC Richard Skinner Session 9/7/81
(Unfortunately, the album version isn’t on Spotify, but this is a mighty fine, non-sweary version.)