August 4, 1989: You Don't Come from This Town

1. Madonna: Express Yourself
2. Prince: Batdance
3. Simply Red: If You Don't Know Me by Now
4. Martika: Toy Soldiers
5. Love & Rockets: So Alive
6. Fine Young Cannibals: Good Thing
7. Milli Vanilli: Baby Don't Forget My Number
8. Kim Mitchell: Rock 'n' Roll Party
9. Stevie Nicks: Rooms on Fire
10. Don Henley: The End of the Innocence
11. Neneh Cherry: Buffalo Stance
12. Roxette: Dressed for Success
13. The Doobie Brothers: The Doctor
14. Rod Stewart: Crazy About Her
15. Richard Marx: Right Here Waiting
16. Bobby Brown: On Our Own
17. Cyndi Lauper: I Drove All Night
18. Expose: What You Don't Know
19. Donna Summer: This Time I Know It's for Real
20. Candi: Missing You
21. Paul McCartney: My Brave Face
22. Henry Lee Summer: Hey Baby
23. Indio: Hard Sun
24. Cowboy Junkies: Misguided Angel
25. Richard Marx: Satisfied
26. The Jeff Healey Band: Angel Eyes
27. Bon Jovi: Lay Your Hands on Me
28. Michael Morales: Who Do You Give Your Love To
29. Tom Petty: I Won't Back Down
30. Paula Abdul: Cold Hearted
31. New Kids on the Block: I'll Be Loving You Forever
32. Blue Rodeo: How Long
33. Andrew Cash: Boomtown
34. Dan Hill: Unborn Heart
35. 10,000 Maniacs: Trouble Me
36. The Grapes of Wrath: All the Things I Wasn't
37. One 2 One: Do You Believe
38. Waterfront: Cry
39. Kon Kan: Harry Houdini
40. Alannah Myles: Love Is

~~~~~

It's as if I knew instinctively that the Canadian music scene wasn't up to much as soon as we arrived back in Calgary. We were back from our year in England but I was in no hurry to tune into Video Hits on the CBC (although that could have been because my sister and I were disappointed to discover that Samantha Taylor was no longer hosting) nor Much Music (although the fact that we didn't have cable probably entered into that one) and didn't give any thought to giving a listen to the AM 106 Top 10 at 10. I had my vast collection of tapes brought over from the UK and that would do me for a while. I did continue to purchase cassettes but they were all throwbacks to my '88-'89 salad days for at least the next year. (While I often look back to the autumn of 1991 and my discovery of British punk, new wave and ska as my first foray into retro music - which eventually came to dominate my listening tastes as the mind-numbingly dull nineties progressed - it's likely that this post-Laindon period was where the past first became my present)

Of course I did hear what was going on but little of it did anything for me. The Canadian chart's overabundance of singles that had long since grown old and tired back in Britain certainly played a part. Songs like If You Don't Know Me by Now by Simply Red and Good Thing by Fine Young Cannibals were all right the first time round but I had no patience for them by this point. (Many people around me in both countries absolutely loved FYC but I'll probably always think of them as the first group I really tried and wanted to like but could never get into; they were the Pulp of their time) I was soon to discover that mediocrities were crossing the Atlantic with some success while most of my favourites ended up going nowhere. One of the best-remembered North American hits of this time was So Alive by Love & Rockets, one of those strange Thomas Dolby/When in Rome/Bush UK acts that failed at home but did well across the pond.

There are signs, however, that something's going on in the chart's lower reaches. 10,000 Maniacs and The Grapes of Wrath both appear with decent though unremarkable numbers but perhaps they indicate that Canadian and American indie music is on the upswing, which it was until grunge came along and ruined everything. And then there's Cowboy Junkies and their gorgeous signature song Misguided Angel. While they were always given ignorant praise from critics (the whole thing about them adding a gothic element to country music seems to forget that Hank Williams and the Louvin Brothers and Johnny Cash ARE gothic), there's no denying what a beautiful musical atmosphere they wrap around Margot Timmins' delicate vocal. Cowboy Junkies would go on to have a respectable career and deliver some absolute gems but they never could top this. Few could.

The last photo any of us took on English soil was snapped by my dad (appropriately given how often he was in charge of the camera; one of my favourites was taken in someplace like Snape Maltings or Safron Walden and it's of my mum and I looking at my sister who is stubbornly out of shot: the look of annoyance on our faces neatly mirrors that of the cameraman) and it was while we were waiting at the parking lot of our housing complex Mellow Purgess on the morning of our flight home. We were with our mass of luggage awaiting some sort of transport, though I can't remember if it was a cab or a bus nor can I recall if we were going directly to Gatwick or someplace else. Mum looks pleased with herself, Julie sports a neutral, it's-way-too-early-to-be-awake-let-alone-photographed visage and I appear to be a nanosecond away from tears.

A funny thing about that picture is how it's sort of a hybrid of myself from then and a year earlier. Although I am certainly taller, otherwise I look very much the same. I'm wearing the same Coca-Cola jean jacket that no one else thought was cool as well as the same Calgary Cannons baseball cap that I also wore when we arrived; only my prized pair of acid-wash nut-hugger jeans from the Ipswich market marks me as sartorially different from my younger self. (Aside from my school uniform, my wardrobe didn't change a whole lot over the course of our year in Britain. Pictures from our coach trip of Europe show me wearing the same Bermuda shorts/clam diggers that my mum bought me a year or two earlier and somehow I was still fitting into my Metro Toronto Zoo Giant Pandas t-shirt from our trip across Canada back in '86) The exact same photo could very easily have been taken back on August 19, 1988, my downcast expression and all.

The flight to Britain a year was overnight and, thus, we didn't arrive until August 20 but this was all August 4 and I was unprepared for the surreal experience of getting dressed in one country and undressing in another. (I've since crossed the International Dateline more times that I care to remember but that weird sensation never diminishes) The flight itself was in many ways just like it had been when we went to the UK: there was no movie, the music was boring and repetitive and we didn't get window seats. This time, however, my Grade 5 teacher and her family were sitting right behind us so at least we had other people to talk to.

Pathetically, I wanted to be wearing a pair of sunglasses for our arrival in Calgary. I thought it would be a cool touch for greeting our family at the airport. Any pretense of hot shotting was out the window as I was showered with hugs and kisses from family members who never hugged and kissed me. It was good to see everyone but I couldn't keep thinking that I didn't want to be there.

We were eventually invited to my aunt and uncle's place for a barbecue. (I whined and whined about having to go just as the jet lagged was fully kicking in but family from out of town had made the trip to meet us so we had no choice) As grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins amiably milled about, the four of us sat at a picnic table in my uncle's backyard, wholly unable to enjoy the hamburger or steak or whatever it was we'd been served. Few thoughts drifted through my head but those that did revolved around being taken back home or, failing that, the merciful hand of death.

That night I got settled into my old new room, laying down in my very old bed. And that was that.

~~~~~

young Paul's favourite: Wouldn't Change a Thing, even though it didn't make it over to Canada for some crazy reason

older Paul's retro pick: Misguided Angel

30 July 1989: I've Seen You Move, If Only They Knew

1. Jive Bunny & The Mastermixers: Swing the Mood
2. Kylie Minogue: Wouldn't Change a Thing
3. Sonia: You'll Never Stop Me from Loving You
4. Bros: Too Much
5. Lil' Louis: French Kiss
6. Gloria Estefan: Don't Wanna Lose You
7. Bobby Brown: On Our Own
8. London Boys: London Nights
9. Rufus & Chaka Khan: Ain't Nobody '89
10. Bette Midler: Wind Beneath My Wings
11. Soul II Soul: Back to Life (However Do You Want Me)
12. Kirsty MacColl: Days
13. Alice Cooper: Poison
14. Karyn White: Superwoman
15. Simple Minds: Kick It In
16. Inner City: Do You Love What You Feel
17. Simply Red: A New Flame
18. Gladys Knight: Licence to Kill
19. Transvision Vamp: Landslide of Love
20. A Guy Called Gerald: Voodoo Ray
21. Pet Shop Boys: It's Alright
22. Blow Monkeys featuring Sylvia Tella: Choice
23. Prince: Batdance
24. The Primitives: Sick of It
25. Waterfront: Cry
26. Shakespears Sister: You're History
27. Martika: Toy Soldiers
28. De La Soul: Say No Go
29. Monie Love: Grandpa's Party
30. Paul McCartney: This One
31. Michael Jackson: Liberian Girl
32. The Lightning Seeds: Pure
33. Gun: Better Days
34. Wendy & Lisa: Satisfaction
35. Dogs d'Amour: Satellite Kid
36. Redhead Kingpin & The FBI: Do the Right Thing
37. The Beautiful South: Song for Whoever
38. Eartha Kitt & Bronski Beat: Cha Cha Heels
39. Danny Wilson: The Second Summer of Love
40. Aswad: On and On

~~~~~

This final UK Top 40 bears little resemblance to the first listing I posted last August. Just four acts manage to pull off appearing on both: Gloria Estefan, Michael Jackson, Kylie Minogue and Transvision Vamp. While Wacko Jacko - and, to be sure, his record label - continued to be content to scrape the varnish off the bottom of the Bad barrel (Dirty Diana was the fifth single released off the album that was already a year old by that point; Liberian Girl was the ninth), the others were busy pushing on with new material. Along with Bros and Prince - both appearing here but in a between-single lull a year earlier - they churned out commercially released product at a rate you simply don't see anymore. Isn't anyone prolific in this day and age?

One clear similarity between the two charts is Kylie's residence at number two. I hadn't been particularly crazy about her previous hit, Hand on Your Heart, but Wouldn't Change a Thing had me right back in her corner. Opening with that already ubiquitous drum machine pattern, it is admittedly a bit by-numbers for both her and the Stock Aitken Waterman group and the sentiments are cliched and clunky ("I've had my doubts, up and down on the merry-go-round"? I guess SAW couldn't thing of an adequate rhyme for 'ferris wheel') but Kylie provides it with a certain zest that a lot of better vocalists might struggle to add. I suppose it's the sort of tune a lot of people would label a guilty pleasure and, while I dislike the terms overall, they're not wrong in this instance. Besides the charming vocal and the trick of having the chorus repeat itself three times near the end (something I've always been a sucker for - a trait it shares with last week's She Bangs the Drums by The Stone Roses), I can't think of a single rational reason why I loved this song then and still feel somewhat fond of it today. That's pop for you.

We were now back from our coach tour of Europe and just days away from our flight home. My mum couldn't have been happier, although you would have been forgiven for not noticing give how she had become so preoccupied by packing. Wisely knowing that I was in absolutely no hurry to get my things together, she promptly began packing on my behalf while chucking away some stuff without bothering to consult me. The bulk of my copies of Smash Hits got tossed in the bin as did the giant goodbye card that my classmates had all signed. I was furious to discover that these cherished items had all been tossed but, in her defense, I probably left them all in a great big disorderly pile by my bed and she made a hasty decision just to chuck it all away. I guess the adult in me understands much more than the boy who wanted to keep everything.

Mum's spree of packing and tossing was probably done while the rest of us were spending our second to last day in Britain having a final poke around London. Though we enjoyed the British Museum the real highlight of this day trip was the acquisition of long sought after posters. At some point back in September or October I happened to notice a giant London Underground map in a tourist information centre and I immediately had my heart set on buying one. Happily, it was something I kept encountering and it wasn't hard for us to track one down this time. (Something in my subsequent travels that I've often found difficult to emulate: I seem to have a knack for spotting a souvenir that I just have to have, deciding that I'll get it another time and then never finding it again)

Saying goodbye to London was one thing but having to bid farewell to friends was the most difficult part of our last few days in England. Our year had begun by enjoying luncheons and days out with people we would end up having very little contact with but now we were having meals with close friends that I wasn't sure if I'd see again. One night we drove into Billericay for dinner with Mum's friend Sherry and her family. I haven't written much about them so far which is a shame since her children John and Rachel loved music as much as I did. Rachel and I spent some time on her swing set in the backyard as she caught me up on the week of music I'd missed while we were in Europe. Later, I listened intently as John told me about seeing the Pet Shop Boys in London a could weeks earlier, occasionally wistfully expressing how much I would've wanted to be there too. (Little was I to know that thirteen years to the day of this night I would be attending a PSB gig of my own) Sherry capped off the evening with a cake, lovingly decorated with maps of Britain and Alberta and an airplane suspended en route from the former to the latter. I was impressed but my mum was moved to tears.

It was also my good friend Neil's birthday just prior to our departure and a small party at his place would be a final chance to see some school chums. (There was always something rather bittersweet about going to Neil's: their place was cozy and inviting, they had a nice backyard and their neighbourhood was attractive. It was, in short, all the things our place in Laindon wasn't. Still, as I drifted off to sleep later that night I began to think about the roomy, welcoming house that was awaiting us back in Calgary and, suddenly, fleetingly, I was looking forward to heading home) It was a lovely day as we enjoyed a delicious lunch and kicked around a football for a while. Neil and I pledged to try to meet up in four years time and I immediately began to look forward to eventually seeing him again. Neil was that kind of friend you only find so often.

Neil's birthday should have been one last time for our school foursome to hang out together but we were reduced to a trio of the two of us and Richard. Sean was having a problem with his feet and he had to pass. I was very disappointed not to be seeing him but my dad offered to drive me over to his place in Wickford so that we could say our goodbyes and I could give him some gifts from our trip to Europe. We chatted for a few minutes in his living room but we had to be heading back. We were less than twenty-four hours from our departure.

That night was a Thursday and I glumly tuned into one last episode of Top of the Pops. My friends were all at home and, to them, it was as I was already gone. Rather unexpectedly the doorbell rang. It was my sister's friend Katrina who'd popped by to say her goodbyes. I envied Julie at that point but I also knew that she didn't get to have the nice farewell moments with her pals as I did with mine.

"I'm not ready for this," I said to myself as I got ready for bed. But I guess I was going to have to be.

~~~~~

young Paul's favourite: Wouldn't Change a Thing

older Paul's retro pick: Pure

23 July 1989: You're My Guts and He's My Head

1. Sonia: You'll Never Stop Me from Loving You
2. Bros: Too Much
3. Jive Bunny & Mastermixers: Swing the Mood
4. London Boys: London Nights
5. Bobby Brown: On Our Own
6. Gloria Estefan: Don't Wanna Lose You
7. Rufus & Chaka Khan: Ain't Nobody '89
8. Bette Midler: Wind Beneath My Wings
9. Soul II Soul featuring Caron Wheeler: Back to Life (However Do You Want Me)
10. Lil' Louis: French Kiss
11. Karyn White: Superwoman
12. Pet Shop Boys: It's Alright
13. Gladys Knight: Licence to Kill
14. Kirsty MacColl : Days
15. A Guy Called Gerald: Voodoo Ray
16. Michael Jackson: Liberian Girl
17. Simply Red: A New Flame
18. Waterfront: Cry
19. The Beautiful South: Song for Whoever
20. De La Soul: Say No Go
21. Monie Love: Grandpa's Party
22. Blow Monkeys featuring Sylvia Tella: Choice
23. Simple Minds: Kick It In
24. Prince: Batdance
25. LA Mix featuring Jazzi P: Get Loose
26. Danny Wilson: The Second Summer of Love
27. Raze presents Doug Lazy: Let It Roll
28. Inner City: Do You Love What You Feel
29. Double Trouble & The Rebel MC: Just Keep Rockin'
30. Norman Cook: Blame It on the Bassline / Won't Talk About It
31. Guns 'N Roses: Patience
32. Eartha Kitt & Bronski Beat: Cha Cha Heels
33. The Primitives: Sick of It
34. Alice Cooper: Poison
35. Gun: Better Days
36. The Stone Roses: She Bangs the Drums
37. Paul McCartney: This One
38. Jason Donovan: Sealed with a Kiss
39. The Cult: Edie (Ciao Baby)
40. Wendy & Lisa: Satisfaction

~~~~~

We spent this week on a coach tour of Europe and, thus, the UK Top 40 was on an embargo. It's a pity since it deprived me of the chance to potentially hear The Stone Roses and their extraordinary new single She Bangs the Drums for the first time. A week later we were back in Britain but this signpost for the future of English indie rock was already gone. A little over a year later and I was beginning to explore all sorts of realms of British alternative music, beginning with Madchester and on to grebo, a little bit of shoegaze before culminating with Britpop - but The Stone Roses failed to enter my world until the mid-nineties - and only then with a spirited if inconsequential remake of Love Spreads for Balkan war charity release The Help Album. I didn't seek them out at their very best - their '89 self-titled debut - until a year later. I've since outgrown it but She Bangs the Drums is something I still come back to from time to time - and it never fails to blow me away. With a little further ado, it's held together by some superb bass playing from Mani and the best Steve Lillywhite-Bob Clearmountain eighties big drum sound you're likely to come across c/o Reni. John Squire's guitar playing, naturally, is a tour de force - and should have made everyone who helped it squeak into the Top 40 realise that he was the ax's next big talent. Ian Brown has always been their weak link but his whispered performance works well enough, even if it's almost impossible to understand him. She Bangs the Drums was the last classic single of our year in England. A pity I wasn't able to hear it. Now on to Europe.

Day 1: Brussels-Koblenz-Ulm

Our hotel room was as dark when we awoke as it was when we wearily checked in some eight hours earlier. The Belgian capital, too, seemed to be every bit as grim as it appeared the night before. Not much interested in looking out the window of our coach, I chose to peer around the bus to get a glimpse of some of our fellow passengers. The pair in front of us were old and I think this gave me a false impression that the vast majority of our fellow package tourists were of the elderly persuasion. Our tour guide tried a bit too hard to break the ice between everyone on board but we weren't having her cockamamie idea of randomly switching seats. We stopped for an extended period at the Belgian-German border as the adults cashed in their Francs for some precious Marks; Dad was shaking his head when he eventually returned to the bus - the Euro wouldn't come into being for a few more years but it couldn't come fast enough for him. Koblenz was gorgeous but I wish I'd known how important the Danube would be to me as an ancient and medieval history student in university - a theme that would be all too common as I look back on this European coach tour.

Day 2: Ulm-Brenner Pass-Cortina-Venice
The Black Forest. Gorgeous though it certainly was, it was an unnerving and creepy region. I'd be looking out at the beginnings of the Alps and notice centuries-old castles belonging to well-bred/in-bred Teutonic counts with their obese mothers from the House of Saxe-Coburg who doubtless never left the premises. Passing into Austria and the Alps began to look like The Alps, more muscular mountains, more breathtaking passes, fewer Germanic throwbacks. Austria was there for just passing through: the sole stop the coach made was for lunch at a McDonald's in the middle of nowhere. We followed the Brenner Pass and crossed into our fourth country in two days. In The Wrong Way Home, Peter Moore writes of the stark contrast of crossing from Iran into Pakistan: pavement turned into dirt roads and civilization turned into abject poverty and destitution. I've never had close to that experience but entering Italy was eye-opening: the lush, serene landscapes of Austria suddenly turned into smokestacks and heavy industry as we crossed. But I gradually warmed to Italy though I was bitterly disappointed to discover that our hotel wasn't overlooking a filthy Venetian canal.

Day 3: Venice

Holy crap, this town is expensive! Okay, fine, I understand the gondolas being overpriced. But bottles of Coke? Ponchos for an afternoon downpour? Wholly unappetizing-looking pizzas in every restaurant window? Venice is fortunate that it's as charming and unique as it is because it has absolutely nothing else going for it. This was probably my first experience of travel being uncomfortable and annoying but nevertheless fulfilling. Self-righteous, I-don't-go-to-touristy-spots types probably wouldn't get much out of it but more than the inevitable gondola ride and visiting the Bridge of Sighs, the real treat in discovering Venice is losing oneself down its maze of ever-narrowing back streets. Definitely a place everyone should go to - even though once is enough.

Day 4: Venice-Assisi-Rome
My sister and I began making friends with some of the other young people on our coach. I especially liked Paul, a boy a couple years older than me and who may have been from around Birmingham, and Nealam (spelling?) who I think was in university and was travelling with his dad and sister. Music was something we all discussed at length and Paul and I bonded over the Italia 90 World Cup t-shirts we bought on a street in Rome. We took an evening bus tour of the capital which was mostly enjoyable due to the Italian tour guide and her peculiar habit of ending every sentence with a pronounced "uh". We were all sitting at the back of the bus and began laughing hysterically and mocking this speech tick. All the parents tried reprimanding us but their protests were undermined by not being able to fully repress their own laughter. It was twilight by the time we reached the Trevi Fountain - I'm sure others in our group had images of La Dolce Vita in their heads at that moment but all I could picture was National Lampoon's European Vacation. We were then taken to a superb multi-course meal

Day 5: Rome-Vatican City
The Heat. So much heat. Our day in Rome was all about the heat. As soon as we would step of our coach, I would think about soon getting right back on. We took in the Vatican and all I wanted to do was get back on the bus. I was awed by the Colliseum but my desire to get back on the bus was still nagging at me. It wasn't as if our coach was all that splendid: it was about as comfy as any other bus I've ever taken outside of Southeast Asia, the a/c was fine but it had one thing in its favour during these dog days in an Italian summer: a fridge filled with ice-cold Cokes and Sprites. At one point I boarded the bus and immediately opened the ice box to help myself to a can of pop. By late in the afternoon we were back at our hotel. Having opted out of our tour group's evening activity, we were on our own for dinner. Unfortunately, our hotel was way out on the outskirts of Rome and we were presented with very few dining options. The somewhat shifty manager of the Holiday Inn took forever trying to decide if my dad and I should be let in to their dining room because our shorts violated the dress code. He inexplicably stalled and that only made matters worse. We stormed out and that was my first lesson in dealing with mind-boggling cultural differences. (I like to think my techniques in that field have improved considerably since)

Day 6: Rome-Florence
The heat wasn't getting to some of the older members of our tour group. After taking in a Renaissance museum we had the afternoon to ourselves. While we were sweating up a storm wandering the streets of the once-great city of art and finance, they were sipping hot tea at an open-air cafe, their cardigans buttoned up. Florence's heritage made little impact on me but I did enjoy just having a look around, seemingly the first city we'd been to since Amsterdam that lent itself to a stroll. Taking a long walk in a stiflingly city is something I've always enjoyed and this was one of my first opportunities to do so. And, thinking about it now, I'm proud to say that I wasn't spouting out nothing but complaints as we ambled. That night we enjoyed the rooftop patio and bar at our hotel as I chatted with some of my new pals. We'd be on our way back to Britain soon.
Day 7: Florence-Lake Lugano-Lake Lucerne
And on to Switzerland. The Land of Milk and Honey is hardly most people's idea of an exciting place to visit but my increasing sense of boredom didn't help. I was itching to be back in Laindon with my tapes and my telly. We once again opted out of the evening activity but this time I was bitterly disappointed to be missing out on a fondue. I took a walk and sat by a gorgeous, peaceful lake and didn't want to be there. We ended up having a good time with some of the others who chose to stay behind but I was glad this coach trip was just about done.

We had one final full day left but it wasn't especially notable. I would go into it next week but I have more than enough to write about then. I had to enjoy our last few days in England.

~~~~~
young Paul's favourite: Swing the Mood
older Paul's retro pick: She Bangs the Drums

16 July 1989: I Won't Forget a Single Day, Believe Me

1. Sonia: You'll Never Stop Me from Loving You
2. London Boys: London Nights
3. Soul II Soul featuring Caron Wheeler: Back to Life (However Do You Want Me)
4. Bobby Brown: On Our Own
5. Bette Midler: Wind Beneath My Wings
6. Rufus & Chaka Khan: Ain't Nobody '89
7. Pet Shop Boys: It's Alright
8. The Beautiful South: Song for Whoever
9. Gloria Estefan: Don't Wanna Lose You
10. Gladys Knight: Licence to Kill
11. Karyn White: Superwoman
12. A Guy Called Gerald: Voodoo Ray
13. Michael Jackson: Liberian Girl
14. Prince: Batdance
15. Kirsty MacColl: Days
16. Monie Love: Grandpa's Party
17. Waterfront: Cry
18. De La Soul: Say No Go
19. Guns 'N Roses: Patience
20. Simply Red: A New Flame
21. Queen: Breakthru
22. Double Trouble & The Rebel MC: Just Keep Rockin'
23. Danny Wilson: The Second Summer of Love
24. Cyndi Lauper: I Drove All Night
25. LA Mix featuring Jazzi P: Get Loose
26. M: Pop Muzik '89
27. Blow Monkeys featuring Sylvia Tella: Choice
28. Sinitta: Right Back Where We Started From
29. Norman Cook: Blame It on the Bassline / Won't Talk About It
30. Jason Donovan: Sealed with a Kiss
31. Jive Bunny & The Mastermixers: Swing the Mood
32. The Cult: Edie (Ciao Baby)
33. Donna Allen: Joy and Pain
34. U2: All I Want Is You
35. D Mob featuring LRS: It Is Time to Get Funky
36. Raze presents Doug Lazy: Let It Roll
37. Madonna: Express Yourself
38. The Bangles: Be with You
39. Earth Kitt & Bronski Beat: Cha Cha Heels
40. Guns 'N Roses: Sweet Child o' Mine [remix]

~~~~~

"Gentlemen, you've recorded your first number one."

I think I'm actually quoting Nigel, the manager of Homer Simpson's barbershop quartet The Be Sharps but the above is typically attributed to George Martin, as soon as The Beatles had finished recording Please Please Me. The patrician, debonair Martin had been trained in classical music but his ear was acute enough to know a pop smash when he heard one. But who else has managed such prescience? Did Bjorn and Benny know they had struck gold as soon as Waterloo was in the can? Did the fifteen-year-old Kate Bush know she was on to something extraordinary when she'd just written Wuthering Heights? Were Suggs and co. aware that House of Fun had that je ne sais quoi about it that My Girl and Baggy Trousers and It Must Be Love were so clearly lacking?

As a fan, I often used to play a similar could-this-hit-the-top guessing game. Slushy love songs from films always seemed to hit the top, so those were easy to predict (the only thing surprising about Bryan Adams Everything I Do was that it stayed at the top for so damn long, not that it got there to begin with). Big artists who were returning from a not too brief yet not too lengthy hiatus were also safe picks to get to the summit of the chart. But what about numbers that just have something? Songs with a spark that will just get everyone interested even if there's no ulterior motive pushing it up.

We've now come upon the one time during our year in England in which I encountered a single and knew immediately it would hit the top. There had been obvious number ones previously - Cliff Richard's Mistletoe and Wine, much to my shagrin, and Madonna's Like a Prayer, which I was largely indifferent towards - but none by a no name act, with a lousy video and fronted by a nondescript character. 

Of course, the above could apply to this week's new number one, Sonia's You'll Never Stop Me from Loving You. I'd been a fan of Kylie Minogue and Bananarama and Rick Astley and I was even able to put up with Jason Donovan but this latest addition to the Stock Aitken Waterman stable felt like they'd finally overreached themselves. Tom Ewing, on his superlative Popular site, observes that Sonia was an attempt at The X Factor or Pop Idol before such shows existed. Rather than plucking an already established act (Bananarama, Donna Summer) or grooming an up and coming figure (Astley) or just snagging Aussie soap stars, this was SAW's attempt at making a start out of one of their fans. Once, we all wanted to look like pop stars but now they all look like us. Cheers, Sonia.

No, the number one I saw coming was just a humble new entry at this point. There's nothing especially great about Swing the Mood by Jive Bunny and the Mastermixers but the moment I first heard it on that week's Top of the Pops I knew it would quickly be supplanting Sonia's dreadful tedium (thinking about it now, I have to wonder if my opposition to the incumbent left me more well-disposed towards its eventual usurper than I would normally have been). A megamix of fifties rock 'n' roll hits, it was intended to be a merging of old and new, of Elvis and Little Richard meeting DJ samples and effects - and it worked at the time because I was convinced the sources were authentic. Listening to it now, I can't believe I was so duped; even the opening bars of Glenn Miller's In the Mood are treated to gauche synthesing and the voices of The Everly Brothers and Bill Haley are about as convincing as the Rod Stewart impersonator I once saw. Nevertheless, I was sufficiently charmed by it and had an inkling that I wasn't alone. I think I had become attuned to what suckers the British were - and still are - for a novelty hit and that it seemed to find a balance between being fresh and appealing on a nostalgic level. 

School was wrapping up by now but I was disappointed that it was ending on the sour note of an apparent rift with my good friends Neil, Richard and Sean. I'd been frozen out of the group for at least a week and I'd already angrily confronted them on it before growing resigned to the situation. Maybe they were getting used to the next year ahead without me around, I reasoned, and maybe they were right.

But it wasn't as if everyone was glad to see the back of me. One of my final tasks as a Mayflower student was to meet with all my teachers, ask them to sign a form I'd been given and, thereby, allow me to get out. It seemed a pointless task ("What are they going to do, force you to stay here if you don't bother?", one of my friends remarked) but one which I nonetheless complied. I, thus, spent the bulk of my final day's morning and afternoon playtimes, as well as much of the lunch hour, seeking out my teachers. They were all kind and graciously bid me farewell. Mr. McLean, the general science instructor who I was overly fond of, was surprisingly genial and even seemed apologetic that the British curriculum was far behind Canada's. I assured him this was far from the case.

For our final form room period, Miss Mitchell asked me to come up to the front of the classroom. She told everyone that this was my last day and that I'd be heading back to Canada soon. She then invited Neil, my closest friend but with whom I'd hardly spoken over the past week, up to join me. He presented me with a giant card signed by everyone in the class and a very nice gold pen. He then confessed that they'd been avoiding me in order to seek out donations to cover the cost of my goodbye gift. Everyone had been in on it: the likes of Grant, Daniel, Steve and the other Neil had been set up to distract me while the others were getting 50p out of as many Mayflower first years as possible. I was touched, though still feeling like a massive chump for falling for their ruse. But I was just happy to have my mates back for the little time I had left.

The end of school also meant the start of saying our goodbyes. As I stood in my dad's maths classroom at the end of my last day I bumped into Fraser, the lad who befriended me on my first nervous, uneasy day at Mayflower. Over the year, I saw him from time to time but we were clearly moving in different circles, a 1L1 lad could only have limited contact with a boy from 1L2. The night of my last day at Mayflower we drove up to Thorpe-le-Soken for a final dinner with our distant relatives. We first visited them soon after we arrived the previous August but, aside from attending a birthday party at their place on Guy Fawkes night, we'd had scant contact with them ever since. I'd previously written about meeting Chris and feeling like I had a new friend, albeit as it turned out one I almost never saw. I was now no longer under any such delusions. I was just content to play some records and mess about with my fourth cousin twice removed - or whatever we might be. Fraser and Chris, they'd once been so vital to my days as a newcomer to England but now I was saying goodbye to them. I haven't seen them since.

The following day my mum and I spent the day at Neil's place in Billericay. Our mums had become good friends over the past few months and this was a welcome respite from the farewells. This was just a nice day at my best friend's place. We listened to music, kicked around a football in their spacious backyard, took a walk around nearby Norsey Wood and enjoyed a lovely lunch prepared by Neil's mum Jessie. A nice day surrounded by all kinds of change.

Despite saying goodbye to schoolmates and relatives I still didn't feel like our time in the UK was rapidly dwindling. Part of this could be down to being just twelve-years-old and still in that childhood world of days that feel like weeks and weeks that feel like months - we still had loads of time left - but maybe it was also due to having to embark on one final trip.

That Saturday, we packed and caught a taxi. The cab ride wasn't too long but the destination was unfamiliar to me. We then got on a bus which probably took us to the town of Ramsgate on the coast of Kent. Finally, we boarded a ferry for Ostend, Belgium. And so began our ten day coach tour of Europe.

~~~~~

young Paul's favourite: London Nights

older Paul's retro pick: It's Alright

9 July 1989: Acid in the Calico

1. Soul II Soul featuring Caron Wheeler: Back to Life (However Do You Want Me)
2. Sonia: You'll Never Stop Me from Loving You
3. London Boys: London Nights
4. The Beautiful South: Song for Whoever
5. Pet Shop Boys: It's Alright
6. Rufus & Chaka Khan: Ain't Nobody '89
7. Gladys Knight: Licence to Kill
8. Bobby Brown: On Our Own
9. Bette Midler: Wind Beneath My Wings
10. Prince: Batdance
11. Karyn White: Superwoman
12. A Guy Called Gerald: Voodoo Ray
13. Queen: Breakthru
14. Guns 'N Roses: Patience
15. Cyndi Lauper: I Drove All Night
16. Double Trouble & The Rebel MC: Just Keep Rockin'
17. M: Pop Muzik '89
18. Michael Jackson: Liberian Girl
19. Monie Love: Grandpa's Party
20. Sinitta: Right Back Where We Started From
21. Jason Donovan: Sealed with a Kiss
22. De La Soul: Say No Go
23. U2: All I Want Is You
24. Donna Allen: Joy and Pain
25. Waterfront: Cry
26. D Mob featuring LRS: It Is Time to Get Funky
27. Danny Wilson: The Second Summer of Love
28. Kirsty MacColl: Days
29. LA Mix: Get Loose
30. Gloria Estefan: Don't Wanna Lose You
31. Norman Cook: Blame It on the Bassline / Won't Talk About It
32. Guns 'N Roses: Sweet Child o' Mine [remix]
33. Simply Red: A New Flame
34. Madonna: Express Yourself
35. The Bangles: Be with You
36. Clannad featuring Bono: In a Lifetime
37. The Cult: Edie (Ciao Baby)
38. Public Enemy: Fight the Power
39. Fuzzbox: Pink Sunshine
40. Blow Monkeys featuring Sylvia Tella: Choice

~~~~~

We're now less than a month away from our return to Canada - and, with it, the end of this blog - and I have to confess that I feel at something of a loss when trying to come up with anything substantial to say about the contemporary music scene. This isn't without precedence: back in April I was making a habit out of dissing the Top 40 but at least that selection of songs I didn't care for inspired me to spew some venom; now we're in July and all I feel is numb.

The singles on the hit parade don't help matters. I was thoroughly sick of Back to Life by this point (which, incidentally, brings to mind how easy it is to get bored by a month of one song on top - even when it happens to be a good one) and had little to no interest in the ever increasing number of bloodless American hits soundtracking movies I had no desire to see. Michael Jackson's first seven singles from Bad failed to raise me from my torpor so Liberian Girl, the eighth, didn't have much hope. I didn't care about the likes of Queen (still don't in fact) and Madonna and some of the new entries from Gloria Estefan and Simply Red were just more of the same. (The fact that I'm reduced to bringing up such acts speaks volumes to the chart's ennui)

With all due disrespect to the dullards occupying the chart, these latter stages of our year in England seem defined by an overall indifference on my part. A quick glance at my dad's notes from the time is a record of stuff I chose to take a pass on:

     Sun Jul 9               Train to London, walk: Southwark of Shakespear (sic.) and Dickens

     Wed Jul 12           Drove to dinner with John and Mary S__________

     Sat Jul 15             Drove to The Hoop in Stock and Summer Fair at Mayflower

Mum and dad invited me to come along for all three of these outings and each time I shrugged, declined and flipped on the telly. Not once did it occur to me that we only had so much time left and that I had to make the most of it. A Shakespear/Dickens walk meant little to me, dinner with a kind older couple seemed supremely unimportant and the last thing I wanted to do was spend a Saturday at my school. (My mum was especially disappointed that I spurned the Mayflower Summer Fair; she had a knack for bringing it up as much as possible for the next couple years) I was now twelve and more content just to do my own thing: lots of telly, walking over to Laindon Town Centre for a chocolate bar and to leaf through the records, just being an increasingly good-for-nothing adolescent.

Was this indifference on my part, however, getting to people? Were my chums at school fed up with me? It was about this time that I began to notice that Neil, Richard and Sean were avoiding me. I was initially taken aback when our General Science teacher Mr McLean began to allow us to sit with who we wanted, rather than being grouped by alphabetical order: the three of them promptly snapped up a table, leaving me reduced to sharing with Grant and the other Neil, boys I kind of liked but who couldn't fail to leave me feeling like I was being left out. Then, they began going off without me during playtime and lunch. Why don't they want me around? What did I do? Something was up. I suddenly didn't feel quite so indifferent.

~~~~~

young Paul's favourite: It's Alright

older Paul's retro pick: It's Alright

2 July 1989: There's a Statesman Standing at a Crossroads

1. Soul II Soul featuring Caron Wheeler: Back to Life (However Do You Want Me)
2. The Beautiful South: Song for Whoever
3. London Boys: London Nights
4. Prince: Batdance
5. Pet Shop Boys: It's Alright
6. Gladys Knight: Licence to Kill
7. Queen: Breakthru
8. U2: All I Want Is You
9. Cyndi Lauper: I Drove All Night
10. Guns 'N Roses: Patience
11. Double Trouble & The Rebel MC: Just Keep Rockin'
12. Sonia: You'll Never Stop Me from Loving You
13. Sinitta: Right Back Where We Started From
14. Jason Donovan: Sealed with a Kiss
15. M: Pop Muzik '89
16. D Mob featuring LRS: It Is Time to Get Funky
17. Donna Allen: Joy and Pain
18. Rufus & Chaka Khan: Ain't Nobody '89
19. Clannad featuring Bono: In a Lifetime
20. Guns 'N Roses: Sweet  Child o' Mine [remix]
21. Karyn White: Superwoman
22. Monie Love: Grandpa's Party
23. The Bangles: Be with You
24. Madonna: Express Yourself
25. Holly Johnson: Atomic City
26. A Guy Called Gerald: Voodoo Ray
27. Waterfront: Cry
28. Fuzzbox: Pink Sunshine
29. Public Enemy: Fight the Power
30. Bette Midler: Wind Beneath My Wings
31. Donna Summer: I Don't Wanna Get Hurt
32. Danny Wilson: The Second Summer of Love
33. De La Soul: Say No Go
34. Natalie Cole: Miss You Like Crazy
35. Cliff Richard: The Best of Me
36. Kirsty MacColl: Days
37. Placido Domingo & Jennifer Rush: Til I Loved You
38. Norman Cook: Blame It on the Bassline / Won't Talk About It
39. LA Mix: Get Loose
40. Neneh Cherry: Manchild

~~~~~

Twelve-year-old Paul didn't care so much but thirteen/fourteen-year-old Paul would have been envious - and, indeed, forty-year-old Paul is pretty impressed. Just to look upon the high end of the chart and note the presence of my two favourite groups of all time leaves me feeling good about the time but also somewhat despondent about the hit parade that awaited me back home. The nineties beckoned and North Americans were becoming more parochial than ever. It was about this time that I recall first hearing about a rash of kids falling down wells and the media circuses that resulted. This was my first exposure to the kind of sickening US freakshow TV news that would dominate the next decade - and gave birth to my one real phase of anti-Americanism. Female teachers sleeping with fifteen-year-old students, a woman cutting her husband's dick off, a Ford Bronco being chased by police on an LA highway: somehow this all - and much, much more - made for compelling news coverage and it was something we foreigners couldn't avoid. I hated the USA back then but I also despised Canada for buying into all this crap. The American music scene of the time attempted to belittle this craziness while at the same time being every bit as parochial - while insisting that they deserved an audience internationally as well. Kurt Cobain came along and demanded that someone, somewhere "entertain us" since he had no intention of doing so - and then he went to Britain and insisted that no lame "limey bands" share a stage with them on the same day at the Reading Festival. A class act to the end.

Rant over, back to the charts. Yes, there they are, Pet Shop Boys and The Beautiful South, in the Top 5. I wasn't to know it then but I was soon to confront a music scene that had no room for my sort of stuff - "limey bands" being as welcome on the North American charts as they were in the mind of a strung out grunge god. Upon our return to Canada I found myself almost immediately alienated from the pop scene and all that synth-pop, sophisti-pop, acid house, Celtic rock and throwaway pop that had been my jam over the previous year had suddenly vanished. It would be a long time before I would begin to come across some new music that I could get behind.

It's Alright is by no means a major Pet Shop's work but it is a bit of a turning point for the duo. While earlier hits were listened to and discussed, this one just sort of entered the charts, stayed for a bit and quietly disappeared. It was their first fanbase hit: a single that their following snapped up but the general public probably wasn't even aware of. Most big groups with a sustained level of success eventually get to the point where their core audience becomes, in effect, their entire audience and Pet Shop Boys were no exception.

It's strange, then, that their first single few cared about was one that touched upon topics related to despotic regimes and the environment coming undone. I've mentioned before about how late-eighties/early-nineties political pop was something of a bug bear of mine but I've always been fond of It's Alright. It certainly helps that it only masks itself as a protest song when in reality it's about just how helpless we are. (I came this close to giving a presentation on it the following year in my Language Arts class in a project about protest songs. I opted instead for Silver and Gold by U2 which gave me extra points for talking about Mandela and Apartheid and some malarky about how Bono taught F.W. de Klerk a lesson) Like The Beach Boys' infamous Student Demonstration Time, it's basically trying to convince kids to stop caring and, instead, turn that mother out: the earth may be dying but the music will last forever so everything will be fine. It's facile (not to mention naive: we're less than thirty years on and no one cares about music anymore) but that works in its favour. Not to mention that Tennant and Lowe's pop instincts were at their peak and they has a knack for spinning so-so cover versions into gold.

The day after Canada Day we were heading to Sandringham in Norfolk to wander around the Royal Family's cherished property. After Brighton, the Medieval Experience outside Colchester, the Christmas market in Lincoln, touring Harrow, the Norwich City football match and trips to Northern Ireland, Jersey and the Isle of Wight (and, I daresay, a few I've forgotten), this was our final Teacher's Exchange event. While my sister and I always wanted to meet up with some of the kids we got to know on the earlier outings, by this point we'd given up. We got to see Andy and Kelly the second time but maybe that was it. For us, then, to be greeting Allison and Jessica was a pleasant surprise - the one time we didn't expect to see them.

Allison and Jessica were sisters from somewhere in Ontario and who, just like us, were fresh off the boat when we first encountered them back in September in the University of Sussex student dining hall. We liked them a lot and they felt like kindred spirits. We shared stories about leaving Canada and saying goodbye to our friends and feeling disenchanted with England. It was more than a little strange, then, to find ourselves with them just as our time in the UK was wrapping up. I didn't find myself connecting with them like we had previously. Maybe they were still miserable in the UK and were relishing heading home, while I was perfectly happy and dreading going back to Canada. But it was probably also the fact that one - Allison -  seemed too old all of a sudden while the other - Jessica - I once fancied but now seemed just like a child: I was just finishing of my first year in a comprehensive but she was still in primary school. No, this wouldn't do.

My real companion around Sandringham that day was David, a gentleman from Norfolk we'd stayed with the weekend we went up to see Norwich play Manchester United. David was one of those kindly older fellows who respected me enough to actually talk to me and I thought he was the bees knees. I no doubt talked his ear off that day but he had the patience and thoughtfulness to remain interested as I elucidated about the state of pop music, Neighbours, Mayflower, living in Basildon and all the places we'd visited since I last saw him. Mental note for middle-aged Paul: be as kindly to kids who never shut up as David was to me.

~~~~~
young Paul's favourite: It's Alright
older Paul's retro pick: It's Alright