Had a lovely weekend with the FauxSurreyStepTeens. They are an utter delight (despite their living away from us!) and amused us no end but the FauxSurreyStepDaughter had her tinny little BlackBerry coughing out her favourite music for us which we could barely hear so FauxSurreyHubby downloaded it immediately via Spotify and played it (but irritatingly not in full as FSHubby is incapable of listening to a whole song) on our state of the art amazing stereo - and all that music got me reminiscing wildly.
When I was 17 (in 1981... 32 years ago!!) music was everything. My older sister & would head into town every Saturday morning & hang out at the local Virgin Music Store (remember record shops?) listening to all the new bands & flirting with the blokes behind the counter - who of course in those days were all amateur musicians too (I even started dating one of them - and we were together 11 years!) then clutching our latest purchase we would be desperate to get home to crank up the stereo & listen repeatedly to our latest hit pop record!
These days StepDaughter is downloading the highly produced Ben Howard, Justin Timberlake & Macklemore to be replayed in her bedroom whilst she's on Facebook in tinny tones through the headphones on her BlackBerry. The bizarre reality is despite all the tech advances & vast improvements in slick production she is probably listening to her tunes in the same state as I did!
I vividly remember, all those years ago, caressing a bright green vinyl 'Message In A Bottle' Police single and carefully placing the needle of our cheap white plastic stereo into the groove - and hearing that unmistakable crrrr hiisssss sound as the track started; I remember unfolding the complex album cover for Elvis Costello's Armed Forces to reveal the shiny vinyl inside and one Saturday night turning all the lights off to lie in the dark with the cat, listening to U2's Boy, and it being a revelation - waves of haunting guitar riffs never heard before came tumbling out of the speakers; all Steve Lillywhite uber polish-produced, causing me to conjecture wildly on what the future may hold, whilst wallowing in teenage angst - that is until my nan came in the room to turn the lights on and tell me off for wasting my life!
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