‘Christine’ – The House Of Love (1988)

“And the whole world dragged us down,
And the whole world turned aside.”

This song made me want to make friends with a Christine. I still haven’t to this day. It’s one of the great disappointments in my life. I love it when songs do that to me. It always adds that extra poignancy to a great song when it shares a name with one of your friends.

I knew a Charlotte, so The Cure’s ‘Charlotte Sometimes’ was made that bit more special. But I’ve yet to meet a Lola or a Velouria. I need more exotic friends. Especially if I’m ever to meet a Candy. That would surely top trump them all.

So I don’t have a Christine in my life to make me think of this song. Instead, it reminds me of sitting on the pavement outside the old Town and Country Club in Kentish Town (now the HMV Forum *sighs*) with my friend Chris the year this single came out. He’d talked me into coming up to town to see The House Of Love take part in the Creation Records ‘Doing It For The Kids’ gig. It’d been sold out for ages. We didn’t have tickets. And we never got tickets. But we enjoyed ourselves just hanging outside for a few hours with other fans. Those were simpler times.

P.S. If you’re reading this and called Christine, get in touch.

Spotify linky:
The House Of Love – Christine - John Peel 2/4/89

(The full-blown single version has yet to appear on Spotify, so I’ve linked to an acoustic radio session.)

On this day … 1991 (aged 20)

Scribblings from my diary …

“I water the garden. It’s all dead anyway.”

‘Last Exit For The Lost’ – Fields Of The Nephilim (1988)

“Summerland holds me in sumerian haze.”

“Gooooooth!” I used to hear this shouted at me about two dozen times a day at school. Most often in quite friendly ways – it kinda became my nickname back in the days when I was the only goth in school. But every so often it was some gang of lads in the year above heckling me between classes. That’s as far as they ever went though, until one day when I was in the Lower Sixth.

By some twist of good fortune, all the friends I made at my first school grew up to be the toughest kids in the playground in later years – the kind that would always be called out of class to see the Headmaster for smoking at break-time, bringing knives into school, or burning down the music room. Strangely enough, the toughest kids can be the most sentimental, which meant I always escaped their bullying as they’d remember the days we used to play with our Smurfs together up the park.

By the time I reached the Sixth Form though, my luck looked like it was about to run out as by then they’d all either left or been expelled (generally the latter). This left me in the clutches of my arch nemesis: the Head Boy. His favourite band was Level 42. Need I say more? He’d parade around school with two lackies and continually tell me to tuck my shirt in. This seemed to become an obsession with him. He seemed to feel I was undermining his authority by completely ignoring his request and walking straight past him without even looking up.

What I didn’t know at the time was that one day he finally snapped and was planning to ambush me with his mates up the school’s bridle path. But it seemed I had a guardian angel. Well, two really. A kid we called ‘Stir’ stepped in to warn them off for me – because his sister in the year below liked me (yes, I know, imagine someone liking me; I was as surprised as you). 'Stir' was one of those kids who would either charm or pummel you into doing something – the choice was yours. They left me alone after that. I only found all this out a few years back. So I’m sending a big belated thanks out now to ‘Stir’ and his fab sister. And a big “ner-ner-ner-ner-ner” to that Head Boy, wherever he is. Oops ... perhaps I shouldn’t do that. I haven’t anyone left to protect me these days.

Spotify linky:

Fields Of The Nephilim – Last Exit For The Lost

‘Pure’ – The Lightning Seeds (1989)

“Night-time slows,
Raindrops splash rainbows.
Perhaps someone you know,
Could sparkle and shine.”

Why did The Lightning Seeds only ever make one good song? No, not just a ‘good’ song. A sparkling pop gem. It’s one of the great mysteries of the world. (Yes, I’m sure there a few fans of ‘Three Lions’ who will dispute this with me. But you’re deluded.)

I rarely buy only one record from a band – my obsessive compulsive nature results in me usually tracking down every rare import and shoddy bootleg from every band I like. But I never had any interest in The Lightning Seeds after this first single. (I don’t think I even played the b-side.) And I’m surprised I liked it at all, as at the time I was all gothed up. It was the summer of 1989 and I’d just left school. I remember my friend Charlotte would call round a lot over those summer weeks and wonder why I always had this song on. I had no answer.

This seven inch version is still my only copy. Another peculiarity, as I always buy my favourite songs in new formats as they come along (from vinyl to CD to MP3). It’s like it has become some kind of treasured talisman. I even only allow myself to play it occasionally so as not to diminish its power to immediately transport me back to those days. (Ok, I’m just sounding odd now.)

Anyone else been strangely possessed by The Lightning Seeds? Is there a support group I should know about?

Spotify linky:

Lightning Seeds – Pure

On this day ... 1991 (aged 20)

Scribblings from my diary …

“Spend the morning compiling a holiday tape for Lara. Full of obscure records to annoy her.”

‘Cruiser’s Creek’– The Fall (1985)

“See the street-litter twisting in the wind,
Crisp bags turning.”

Watching mid-80s US Brat Pack movies warned me off house parties. You know the ones … you invite a few friends over when your parents are away, they tell everyone at school, a rabble of older kids gatecrash and wreck your house while listening to Tears For Fears, and the kid who’s good at science drives your dad’s car into next door’s pool.

My parents couldn’t leave their house in safer hands when they went away. I hated parties. I rarely enjoyed being around more than one person at a time. And my tinnitus stopped me playing music too loudly. Yep, I sound like a real fun teenager, don’t I? Thing is, I’m exactly that way now too.

Only once did our neighbour come round to complain about the noise and he was quite surprised to find me in on my own. It was the summer of 1989 and John Peel had decided to play every session by The Fall over three nights. So I was listening to the latest show with all the windows wide open while doing some dusting. Yes, dusting. This is how I chose to spend my nights home alone as a teenager. I think my neighbour had rather hoped I was having a party so that he could report back to my parents that I was perfectly normal. Instead, he had to tell them he found me singing along to ‘Cruiser’s Creek’ with a feather duster in my hand. Very little changes in my life.

Spotify linky:

The Fall – Cruiser's Creek - Peel Session 3/6/85

Diary doodles 1990 - No.3