‘Sweetness and Light’– Lush (1990)

“Only to stay, only to breathe, only to see,
That space and light are what I really need.”

Woodstock? Whatever. If there was one event you needed to be at it was the Slough Music Festival (on this very day in 1991). Never before have so many floppy-fringed students gathered in a field to gaze at their shoes all day.

Where’s the BBC4 music documentaries celebrating this seminal event? Slowdive. Curve. Ride. All present and correct. If Betjeman’s friendly bombs had fallen down on Slough that sunny day, Melody Maker and NME may as well have closed their doors for two years.

One band that wasn’t playing (somewhat surprisingly) was Lush. But flame-haired songstress and indie pin-up Miki was there (somewhat unsurprisingly) and I got to shake her hand and say embarrassing things. This isn’t much of a story as I think just about every one who went to a gig in 1990 got to meet Miki. It kinda came with the ticket.

Come 2011, it will be 20 years since we all moshed in a Slough park to Chapterhouse – time to start planning the anniversary festivities methinks.

(This post may seem all very well-timed and cleverly planned, and yes, it is, thank you. In reality though, it’s a complete coincidence as I already had it in mind to write about Slough today and was completely surprised to see it was 19 years to the day when I checked the date in my diary.)

Spotify linky:
Lush – Sweetness And Light

'Drive Blind' - Ride (1989)

“Can’t see the lights,
or the blue orange signs.
Can’t see the road,
or the long white lines.”

For six weeks in the autumn of 1989, no cyclist was safe on the roads of Farnborough. This is because my Dad had decided to fund a dozen driving lessons for me. His idea was that I’d be able to help him with some computer deliveries for his company. The problem was that I had zero interest in learning to drive.

It would have helped if there was somewhere I wanted to go. But I could get the train to London and I was happy walking my home streets. It would also have helped if I could concentrate on the road for more than two minutes. But my mind wanders. And the next thing you know, I’ve reversed into someone.

That’s what happened on my test. The date was set for Hallowe’en – hurrah! – my fave day of the year. But it was timed for the school run. Which meant cyclists. Lots and lots of cyclists. It was like the Tour De Farnborough out there. I think I either clipped, cut up or terrified a good half of them. And almost killed one, by reversing without really looking and forcing him to swerve onto the pavement. I made a mental note of some of the good advice the cyclist was screaming at me (which amounted to ‘Look where you’re going’ – once you removed the expletives) and the instructor made some notes of his own in thick red pen.

To this day I still can’t drive (I never took another lesson) and like to annoy people who ask why I don’t try again by quoting Alex Cox’s ‘Repo Man’: ‘The more you drive, the less intelligent you are’.

Spotify linky:
Ride – Drive Blind