It’s been a busy month this month, so I’ve not had opportunity to think about and prepare a blog. So here’s an account of my musical awakening instead.
I grew up in a musically fairly conservative household. My parents owned an average number of records which consisted of my Mum’s Beatles LPs and a lot of folk music. I hated the folk music and the Beatles didn’t do much for me either. When I was old enough to take notice of chart music I remember Gary Glitter on Top Of The Pops and Don Estelle and Windsor Davis’ recording of ‘whispering Grass’. Tony Blackburn used to do a request show on radio 1 which features lots of children’s songs from the 50s. These all informed my musical world-view and to this in 1980 was added Adam & the Ants who were the first band I really liked.
My Grandma and Grandpa lived in a little village called Ebberston which is about 10 miles inland from Scarborough. In 1981 Ebberston hosted 2 community discos. The first of which was to celebrate the wedding of Charles & Di, the second may have been for bonfire night. My family visited my Grandparents on the days these discos were held and so we attended.
I never went to many disco-type things. Still don’t. I watched with some interest and eventually urged (threatened even) by my Mum and fuelled by food colourings gained from too much fizzy pop I went and spasmed awkwardly on the dance floor in what I would have thought to be an acceptable form of dancing. I remember the kind of music usually played at these kind of events. There was ‘One Step Beyond’ and Dexis midnight runner’s ‘Oh Geno’. There may have been ‘March of the Mods’ and various Abba tracks amongst the rest I don’t remember. All standard fare so far and nothing to add anything to my limited knowledge of music and nothing to convince me that music was anything other than background noise. A pleasant evening to be enjoyed by all.
I think it was at the November disco that my epiphany occurred. Probably about half way through the evening the DJ muttered something into the microphone, put on a new single and cleared the dancefloor except for 3 or 4 teenagers who had been sitting around the edges all evening. They jumped up and proceeded to jostle and shove each other around the dancefloor while everyone else cleared out of their way. I don’t remember really what happened because I was transfixed by the noise. Whereas what was played for the rest of the evening was average pop music of its day this was something else – an explosion of sound; vibrant, passionate, aggressive and most of all very very noisy. I loved it. I had no idea what it was or what they were singing about but the proverbial lightbulb had gone on in my head and I realised that music could be so much more than I had previously thought it was. I remember being utterly awestruck, my little mind utterly blown by the the raw-ness of the sound. Suddenly music was mine. I had no idea what I was listening to (years later I figured out it was the Dead Kennedy’s ‘California Uber Alles’) but so began a lifelong mission to find music that spoke to me in that raw way, bypassing conscious thought and speaking directly to my soul. I was awake to the potential power of music and when I left that little village disco I went out into a world that was suddenly much much bigger.