Saturday, 13 November 2010


Songs. Music. If anything is guaranteed to propel me back in time to a place or person... its music.

Gabrielle, 'Dreams' was the anthem of my early teens when I had a mad crush on a boy in the year above me at school. He seemed so sophisticated and worldly, popular with everyone but did I detect a note of wistfullness about him that made him different from the other spotty obnoxious oiks his age? Of course I did, I was 13 years old, romantic to the core and sure that he was different. And naturally that we'd live happily ever after surviving on nothing but love and the fat of the land presumably.

Bless her cotton socks, Gabrielle was there at the very birth of my idealism.

Of course by the time I got into Pulp and the album 'freaks' I was a tortured little soul. I was 15 and had just grasped that Jarvis was being ironic when he said 'anorexic beauty, featherweight perfection' and I just knew that Jarvis would 'get me' if we were ever to meet.

We did though, incidentally.. meet that is. We were both standing at the back of the Carling tent at Reading Festival eating chips in trays. I didn't realise shoot was and he asked if I had a spare ketchup and I handed over my spare then looked up.

Had I still been 15, I might have passed out at this point but thankfully for my dignity at the very least, I was now into Blink 182 'All the small things'. I was now 18 and much too cool to pass out.

By 21 I was more about Rancid (Timebomb) and I'd met and married my nearest and dearest.

These days you're more likely to hear The XX on in my car at the grand old age of 30. But put any of those songs on and I am transported back in time.
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