16 April 1989: Searching for a Perfect Ending That We'll Never Find

1. The Bangles: Eternal Flame
2. Simply Red: If You Don't Know Me by Now
3. Transvision Vamp: Baby I Don't Care
4. Holly Johnson: Americanos
5. Kon Kan: I Beg Your Pardon
6. U2 with B.B. King: When Love Comes to Town
7. Paula Abdul: Straight Up
8. Madonna: Like a Prayer
9. Fine Young Cannibals: Good Thing
10. Donna Summer: This Time I Know It's for Real
11. Jason Donovan: Too Many Broken Hearts
12. The Cure: Lullaby
13. Simple Minds: This Is Your Land
14. INXS: Mystify
15. Coldcut featuring Lisa Stansfield: People Hold On
16. Soul II Soul featuring Caron Wheeler: Keep on Movin'
17. Cookie Crew: Got to Keep On
18. Metallica: One
19. Guns 'N Roses: Paradise City
20. Inner City: Ain't Nobody Better
21. Midnight Oil: Beds Are Burning
22. Pat & Mick: I Haven't Stopped Dancing Yet
23. The Beatmasters with Merlin: Who's in the House?
24. London Boys: Requiem
25. Paul Simpson featuring Adeva: Musical Freedom (Moving on Up)
26. De La Soul: Me, Myself and I
27. Bobby Brown: Don't Be Cruel
28. Yello: Of Course I'm Lying
29. T'Pau: Only the Lonely
30. Duran Duran: Do You Believe in Shame?
31. Jody Watley: Real Love
32. The Blow Monkeys: This Is Your Life
33. Then Jerico: What Does It Take
34. Aswad: Beauty's Only Skin Deep
35. Barry Manilow: Please Don't Be Scared
36. Swing Out Sister: You on My Mind
37. The Reynolds Girls: I'd Rather Jack
38. Ten City: Devotion
39. Natalie Cole: Miss You Like Crazy
40. Fuzzbox: International Rescue

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One of the key aspects of late-eighties popular music was about getting back to basics by rediscovering the roots. If this wasn't exactly apparent at the time - even though there were hints of it - it certainly became clearer as the early nineties progressed. The dawn of MTV Unplugged signaled that the guitar was once again king and that there was plenty of older music for everyone to get into if the current stuff just wasn't doing it for them. (My own discovery of The Jam, The Clash and The Smiths represented my first dabblings with the old stuff and there would be plenty more to come from there on in) In '89, however, modern music wasn't quite ready to be swept away and the roots had to creep in without anyone noticing. (The most obvious example at this stage being the U2/B.B. King collaboration When Love Comes to Town, a song I find myself liking a lot more than I remember)

There's something a bit distasteful about the term roots. Implied is a working class, poverty-stricken world of southern boozed-up men spinning yarns and picking blues and hillbilly licks on their beat up old guitars. Now, I have nothing against this world, only the notion that all popular music comes from it - or, worse, that all music that matters comes from it. Swing Out Sister had enjoyed an international hit a couple years earlier with the almost annoyingly addictive Breakout but they were now going about their own attempt at digging into the roots. These roots, however, were drawn from Burt Bacharach, Scott Walker, Motown and Françoise Hardy rather than Jimmy Rogers and Robert Johnson. You on My Mind, the result, is a gorgeous, beautifully sung number that is impossible to dislike. What it failed to do, mind you, is attract much attention and that may have been partially down to its old fashioned style. It has aged well precisely because it doesn't have sell by date but that also works against it: few knew it then, and even fewer are aware of it now because it can't be pinned down to a specific period. But if one wants nothing more than three-and-a-half glorious minutes of perfect pop then they could do far worse. It's just a shame its rootsiness didn't catch on.

I studied ancient and medieval history in university. At one point I fancied my chances of going on to grad school even though I had very humdrum grades and a complete inability to master languages that aren't my own. The real sign, however, that my academic future was limited was my choice of reading. (I bought many Penguin Classics during my undergrad days: some I devoured cover to cover while others I hardly touched - or, at best, I made the most of their indexes so I could pick out the bits I needed for papers or exams while spurning the rest) I had a habit of enjoying spurious, unreliable sources - Herodotus, Livy, Procopius - while I grew increasingly bored with purveyors of genuine historiography - Thucydides, Polybius, Bede. No, I didn't seem possible for me to do a master's degree in history as written by those who just make shit up - although, thinking about it now, it seems like an absolutely brilliant field to study.

During the summer of 1997 I read The History of the Kings of Britain by Geoffrey of Monmouth. (Yes, this was my summer reading: it says a lot that (a) this was something that I chose to read for fun and (b) it was such a dubious account that my professors didn't want to have anything to do with it) A twelfth century history of pre-Saxon Britiain, it told the tale of the likes of Brutus, Lear, Vortigern and Arthur. The book probably ought to have brought back memories of our medieval experience outside of Colchester or the time we drove past Hadrian's Wall or the Viking Centre in York but, instead, my mind kept wandering back to Rochester - and, more specifically, Rochester Castle.

Not a whole lot stands out from our Saturday day trip to the old city in northern Kent. I don't recall much about the town - I probably went into a Woolworths or WH Smith's to browse the records and cassettes but such visits by this point had completely blended into one another - and I've lost all memory of taking in the Dickens Museum. But one aspect that I can't separate from our visit to Rochester is the weather. The lovely English spring that I've already mentioned had clearly taken the weekend off and in its place were grey clouds and a cool wind. Now normally miserable weather can ruin a trip but I think it benefited Rochester Castle. Blue sky and sunshine would have made the day much more pleasant but I suspect they would have undermined the Castle's impressiveness. 

The Castle wasn't simply a ruin. It didn't just feel like a well-preserved, centuries-old relic meant for attracting tourists but it felt like it would continue to stave off sacking attempts (I guess that's why they call it a keep). I can't say it got me into history - even though I did buy a replica medieval coin which I subsequently lost - but it did leave an indelible impression on me that the past is there for us to take in. Not learn from, I've never cared for the concept of learning from history (which reminds me of a line of mine that always amused me but consistently failed to impress anyone else: those who do not learn from the lessons of history class are bound to repeat them) but just taking it in and doing what one wants with the results - even if it comes from the history-by-those-who-just-make-shit-up school.

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young Paul's favourite: Baby I Don't Care
older's Paul's retro pick: You on My Mind