Wednesday 30 October 2019

I made you a mixtape - Summer 1993



I started making playlists in 1993. Scrappy little C90 tapes, full of tunes I'd recorded off my own limited CD collection and those lying around the shared house in which I lived.

I know what you're thinking. "Please Rob," you cry, "please reconstruct these playlists online, and share them with us, ideally with a track by track commentary on why you chose those songs."

Oh, alright then.






You can play bits of the songs direct from here, or jump to Spotify to experience the full joy/horror.




My first playlist came about in the Summer of 93, as I tried to work out what to do now I had left college. The answer, of course, was make the best mixtape known to man.




Perfecting the Art of the Common Ground - Ultravox

I fell in love with Ultravox in 1985, when their best of, 'The Collection', was passed between me and my best friends, Ian and Paul. Like all bands, they split up the second I declared an interest.

Then, in 1993, they suddenly released a new album. Except it's a bit of a cheat. No Midge Ure. In fact, no most-of-the-band. I think only the violin guy was still around. This is a pretty great song, though.




Satellite of Love - U2

I was, at this time in my life, a massive fan of U2. I loved - and it must be said, still love -  Achtung Baby, and had watched their Zoo TV concert on a loop for most of the early 90s. Their version of Satellite of Love was my favourite moment. A gorgeous, peculiar song which I'd never heard. This version comes from the B-side of the CD single for 'One'.





Fields of Gold - Sting

For a while, in 1993, it was OK to like Sting. That's because he had just released one of the greatest albums ever, the still amazing Ten Summoner's Tales. My parents bought me the CD as slightly sarcastic congratulations for graduating university.

It brings back strong memories of unpacking in my first post-student house, Regent Street. My room was the attic room. The other residents spent some time away that Summer, so I was alone in the house for several empty weeks, rejoicing in the quiet, and the sunshine, and the freedom from degree stress.

And this album, which I played on repeat all Summer. Glorious.




Graduation. I belong in a cape.




Love Theme - Vangelis

Yes, alright, OK. I never said I was cool. I've always loved Blade Runner, though, and I had a Best of Vangelis CD, so this just kind of happened. There's nothing wrong with it, is there? It's nice. It just kind of sounds like I should play it while inviting ladies in white dresses up to see my pad.

I didn't. I had a girlfriend. She frowned upon such behaviour.





Numb - U2

My first job out of university was at a place called Speedibake. I applied through a recruitment agency. The job was awful.

12 hour shifts, standing at a conveyor belt, putting donuts into plastic packaging. Soul destroying and dull, and certainly not the future I'd envisaged when I'd been studying Literature and Sexuality the previous month.

I got paid £2.10 an hour which, while worth more in 1993 that it is now, is still toss all. And, conversely, CDs were really expensive back then. I'm pretty sure it took me five hours to earn enough to buy the new U2 album Zooropa. But I think it was probably worth it.

This song suggests a much more interesting future for the band than would transpire.





Love's Great Adventure - Ultravox

One of my favourite Ultravox songs. It had been something of a soundtrack to our student days, most specifically when we made our 20 minute student film "Heroes and Villains." During this masterpiece I ran around a forest in a hat, rescuing damsels and fighting my college housemate Dave with a large stick, while Ultravox played.

If you paid tax in 1991, some of your tax paid for me to do that.


An amazing deconstruction of good vs. evil, using sticks.





My Country - Midnight Oil

Like everyone else I decided that I liked Midnight Oil in 1988 when they released their great song 'Beds are Burning'. The album that came from, which I bought for £2 in Rocksoff in Bradford, is excellent and worth checking out.

Thus, when I saw the CD single of this song in a bargain bin, I jumped on it. Our Price often had really cheap CD singles, and I bought most of them. Did I mention I only made £2.10 an hour?





Love is Stronger than Justice - Sting

At this point it probably starts to become apparent how few CDs I owned. Back to Ten Summoner's Tales for this playful, joyous song. Sting is much better when he's having fun, isn't he? Hell, isn't everyone?






Few Hearts Change - Daniel

Now I can't honestly say what's going on here. I know that this song was on my first compilation, because I keep meticulous records and have everything listed in a big red ledger. Everyone does that, right?

But what is this song? Why did I own it? It's Christian music, and I did identify much more with Christian culture at this point, so maybe I owned the album? It's odd, now, when I've become much more progressive, or liberal, in my Christianity, to hear music that's so patronising and lectur-ey in tone.

That was the kind of Christianity I was into then, I suppose. Kind of arrogant. Sorry.



Enjoying myself at a Christian Summer camp.





New York Telephone Conversation - Lou Reed

My interest in U2's cover of Satellite of Love led me to investigate the original, which - as I'm sure you know - can be found on Lou Reed's album 'Transformer'. A tremendous discovery, not least for this crazy old song, which really appealed to my sense of the ridiculous.

I retrospect, it's interesting to see such a vibrant, playful, human song show up on my playlist straight after one that's so conservative. That's where my character was in the early 90s, I think. Torn between a very straight kind of religiosity on one hand and the desire for something much weirder and exploratory on the other.





Stay (Faraway, So Close) - U2

I really like this song. I like to sing it, except I can't get the high notes of the chorus. Another song from Zooropa, where U2 seemed to be playing with a dislocated kind of humanity, and letting interesting sonic things happening. I so wish they'd continued in this direction.






No Turning Back - Ultravox

Another one from the "Ultravox but not really" album. It's OK. But it's becoming apparent that I have a C90 to fill, and not really enough songs.



My friendship group, in the early 90s. 





Satellite of Love - Lou Reed

At first I didn't like the original version of this. Having sought it out in great excitement, I was a little sad to find it a bit... jaunty. I liked the spooky, ethereal nature of the U2 version and I wasn't ready for this.

I was wrong, of course. All part of my slow journey to stop taking things so seriously. The "whoo-eee--ooo" bits by Bowie, at the end, are among the best noises ever made.





I Am Alive - Ultravox

I think that, on the original tape, this was an extended mix. You'll be pleased to know I've spared you this. It's quite a good, exciting song, but no-one needs to hear it go on for twice as long, with breakdowns of all the individual synth parts.






Cold, Cold Heart - Midge Ure

You might be getting a sense, by now, that I had a fairly narrow range of musical interests at this point. And you'd be right. I was a child of Live Aid, don't forget. I was a sucker for guitars and earnest bombast and posing about in stadiums.

This song was a favourite party piece for me and housemate Antony. He'd do the flute, I'd do the guitar. We were delighted with ourselves, which put us in something of a minority.


A room full of people rejoice to the tunes of Antony and Rob.




A Day Without Me - U2

U2 again, but a different album, so don't go calling me "Mr. Only Likes Three Things." This is from U2's first album, and it's very exciting to hear them so young and full of energy. A real ear for melody. Still pretentious, though, They got that in there pretty early on.






If I Ever Lose My Faith in You - Sting

Probably my favourite song from this amazing album. Check out my restraint, leaving it until near the end. I used to put a lot of effort into the sequencing of these tapes. I got - and still get - real pleasure in the ebb and flow of a series of songs.

Recording on tape had a real immediacy to it, as well. You had to commit to the recording, to see how a transition sounded. And then it was cut into the tape, and kind of permanent. Oh yes, you could tape over it. But nothing sounded as good as that first fresh imprint.





The Wanderer - U2 w/Johnny Cash

I almost left this off this Spotify reconstruction. It's not very good, is it? I was clearly running out of available music, and this does me no favours. But the discipline here is to recreate these playlists as truthfully as possible. No matter the sins it reveals.

The inclusion of this exists, I think, to provide a buffer between the last Sting track and the next one. Actually, there was another song too - a cover of Dylan's Hurricane, by the Miltown Brothers. But that doesn't appear to be on Spotify, so we'll have to live without.





Shape of my Heart - Sting

Another beautiful song from Summoner's Tales. I think I use them all, over the course of the next few tapes. And with good reason. It's one of those albums that's like a best of. Everything on it is good. This song hasn't faded with age. Familiarity has affected it, I suppose, but it will always have its roots in a long, empty Summer, at the top of that quiet house in 1993.






An Cat Dubh - U2

One more U2 track to finish things off. I promise things get more varied in the future. Not better, necessarily. But more varied. I got a bit more money to buy some more CDs, and exposure to other, cooler people broadened my tastes a little.

What is that title about? Eh? An Cat What? Honestly U2. Honestly.





Next mixtape - Autumn 1993




Monday 28 October 2019

Time is Relative - The Sontaran Experiment

And a very good morning to you sir!

You join me in the mid 1970s, watching another series of Doctor Who. I've taken photos of the best bits, and - lucky you - I'm going to present them to you, with a half remembered account of what is going on. 

God bless the internet, eh?



The Sontaran Experiment



In this story, Doctor Who's best friend Sarah finds herself on a hill, in the middle of nowhere, in a horrible outfit. Last week, they were all having an adventure in space. Then Doctor Who said 'Let's go to Future Earth and see what that's like." 

I think the big shiny ball things are there to help you magically zoom down to Future Earth. Sarah has zoomed down, only to find that Doctor Who either 

a) hasn't bothered, 
b) got distracted by something he found in his pocket
c) did some bad maths and is now asphyxiating in space
d) is playing a trick on her, and is somewhere laughing hysterically at his own brilliance. 







Harry, meanwhile, has fallen down a ravine. He also followed Doctor Who's mad whim to go play on Future Earth, only to find that Future Earth is full of holes. 

I can't remember who Harry is looking at here, but I wouldn't want to be them. His face suggests that yes, he is a reasonable man who puts a high premium on good manners and tolerance, but also - if you don't help him out of this hole - he is quite prepared to break your skull in half.










This is the bad guy for this story. He is a Sontaran. You may remember the Sontarans from "Doctor Who goes back into history and meets the Sontarans and tells them they are jerks, and ugly jerks, and stupid ugly jerks who should stop messing about in history."

Doctor Who had a point. This guy looks extra nightmarish. It's like someone gave a child a crayon and asked it to draw Freud's concept of the Uncanny.










The Sontaran - who is called Styre or Stick or something similar - is here on Future Earth to do Experiments. At least that's what he tells Doctor Who, when he is caught tieing men up out on the moors. He says it's all about testing the psychological limits of human endurance. For military strategic purposes. 

That's why he's dressed in leather, and leering out of his spaceship at the tied up men in a manner that can only be described as coquettish. It's all to do with military strategic purposes.

I think I've worked out why he subsequently tries to murder Doctor Who and his friends and silence them forever.









As well as Styre, there is some kind of glam rock robot wandering around on Future Earth. It is helping with the Experiments. How is not clear. It just glides up and down the place, doing a beep. 

Here it appears to be dancing.

I imagine it gets bored.







Doctor Who punches Styre to death and blows up his spaceship. He gathers his friends back by the magic shiny things and prepares to go back up into space. 

His victory appears to have got his blood up, and it looks like he's saying, "If anyone else wants to try have a go, I will absolutely kick your head in too." Sarah and Harry stand behind him, trying to communicate, "We're very sorry - we're taking him home."







That's all for this story. If you enjoyed that there's more...