Well hello, you scintillating thing. You catch me in a reflective mood. I've been listening to an old mixtape I made in the mid 1990s, and I've got to say it's raising a lot of questions. Questions like, "Why on earth did I include these songs?" and "Is this why I had no friends in the 90s?" That kind of thing.
Join me, as I wander through the contents of this tape, compiled nearly thirty years ago. If you wish to listen along, you'll find the contents on this Spotify playlist, from track 153 onwards. Or you can just click on the links to the Youtube videos I stuck below. Or you can sit in silence, like a serial killer. It's up to you.
Always - Bon Jovi
We're off to a terrible start. But wait - I can explain. I've recently split up with a woman, as I make this tape, and I'm quite keen on sharing that knowledge with the world. There's going to be quite a lot of songs reflecting the end of relationships. My basic rule in my 20s was this: If I'm feeling something, everyone around me is feeling it too.
That said, this isn't a very appropriate song, is it? This is very "You have my heart for all time, here is a big ballad about it." Which is pretty much the opposite of what was going on. I suppose Bon Jovi never wrote a song called, "Two years of this feels like slightly more than enough - I'm off."
Need You Tonight - INXS
This is more like it. A whip smart piece of astonishingly precise pop. This swaggers along, walking a straight line between outright confidence and a kind of beguiling honesty.
I keep forgetting I like INXS. The parent album for this song, "Kick", is like a "best of", with loads of elegantly simple songs and the kind of production that makes you look at other albums and shout, "Why aren't you doing this?" I'd been into it when it came out, in the late 80s, and I assume I'd recently bought a copy of it when I made this tape.
What Do You Want From Me? - Pink Floyd
Ah, a return to the fun "Cool/Not cool" whiplash effect that my playlists tend to provoke. I love this kind of music, but anyone listening along might wonder why we'd gone from the sharp, clean pop of INXS to this self indulgent abyss of guitars and chaos.
Well, the answer is that I had bought the album a while ago, and by God I was going to get my money's worth from it. I'd used up the obvious, attention grabbing singles and now I was into the album-only tracks. This took me a while to warm up to, but I reckon it's miles better than it's supposedly more catchy stable mates.
I suppose there might also be an unconscious message to my ex-girlfriend, who was reacting badly to me suddenly and arbitrarily ending our relationship. She was hanging around our shared house, covering the place in tears and crumpled up tissues and sadness, and generally killing my buzz. Stop letting her in, housemates!
Crying in the Rain - Aha
And... we're back with the relationship misery. Except, again... I was feeling pretty chipper about being single and so this is less about actual sadness and more about the idea of loss. I'd kind of got used to having her about, and wasn't sure what it would be like when she suddenly wasn't there.
It's a bit like being in a bath that's getting colder. You don't want to get out, because the cold air will be momentarily worse. But the longer you stay in the bath, the more the heat drains away and the more uncomfortable you are. Plus, if you get out, you can start dating other girls.
This is a great song, with a particularly strong start. That 'Drunngggg" chord at the beginning is awesome. And Morten's ascending vocal in the 'I may be a fool...' bit is sublime.
I like the way it pretends to finish, then comes back for a little more thundery banging about. Kudos to you, you sneaky ruffian.
King's Highway (live) - Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers
This was a B-side, I think, from one of the many CD singles that littered my life at this point. The album version is a perfectly good, driving rock song, so I wonder why I chose this?
I'm a fan of stripped back versions of songs, I guess. They were certainly more of an interesting novelty back in the mid 90s. Nowadays it's hard to find a song that hasn't been pulled apart, and reimagined using only the kazoo and some string. But this version - with a gentler guitar and that lovely delicate piano - is a delight, revealing the structure underneath the bells and whistles of the studio version. Love it.
Your Town - Deacon Blue
If you've read my previous blogs about my tapes, you'll be aware that 1994 Rob is in a period of buying lots of 'best of' CDs. Partly because it's a quick way of getting a collection together when you earn basically no money, and partly because he's stupidly joined Britannia Music - an organisation that sends you CDs through the post faster than you can say, "No, stop, I can't afford... ah well it's here now."
One of those best-ofs was a Deacon Blue collection. It's a pretty good CD, with lots of songs that had bounced around the charts a few years earlier. But there were also songs like this - darker, weirder things that pulsed with strange, distant energy.
I found myself very drawn to this. It was quite a way from what I knew about Deacon Blue, who seemed like a bunch of excited puppies who'd stumbled into a room full of synths and trumpets. I guess I still had traces of that adolescent philosophy which could be summed up as, "The darker the music, the more meaningful the music." Sily boy.
I do still like this song, but I can see why they put it on the other end of the CD from 'Dignity' and 'Real Gone Kid', where it couldn't upset them.
I Don't Want to Talk About It - The Indigo Girls
Here I go again, pretending I'm all cut up about breaking up with that woman. I think that this track's inclusion is more of a happy co-incidence, though. This version of this - excellent - song hails from the soundtrack to Philadelphia.
I'd bought the 'Philadelphia' CD for exactly two songs: the Neil Young song and the Bruce Springsteen song. Remember that? When you had to buy an entire CD to get maybe two or three songs that you liked? Madness. Except it had the benefit, didn't it, of accidentally finding tracks like this, that you might never have stumbled across otherwise.
Gorgeous harmonies and lovely arrangements. Lovely.
Never Tear Us Apart
Do you realise how sad my life is yet? Are you overcome by how sensitive I am? Do you think, maybe, that you should give me loads of sympathy and maybe let me off doing the washing up?
What a great song this is. We're back to that amazing INXS album, and it's just a treasure trove of stunning songs. They even stick in a "Hey hey it's the 80s!" saxophone solo, and get away with it.
But yeah. I am sad. Honest. Go to the shops for me?
One Better Day - Madness
My favourite Madness song. I can remember the day I bough the 45 single of this. A rainy Thursday in what must have been... 1984? On holiday from school. Wandered into town and spent my scant pocket money on this, and a 'choose your own adventure' book called 'Lone Wolf' or something.
There's stuff going on in this song that I've never quite been able to quantify, and that's probably why I love it. A heartfelt combination of melancholy and yearning... maybe the flowering of new love, or perhaps the sun setting on something that lasted years. I don't know.
And it's a great example of the things I've always loved about Madness. They're a seven piece, all contributing loads to the song, but somehow there's lots of space in the music for everything to breathe. Interlocking elements - the sound of musicians listening to each other and leaving room for everyone to shine. Listen to that lovely, constant bassline, loping casually along, never getting in the way but always nodding along with the emotions of the piece.
Glorious. Genuinely one of the best songs ever.
Dry Land - Marillion
Great news everyone, it's time for some Marillion. This had been a top song of mine for a few years, by 94. A single from their 1991 album, it had sound-tracked most of my college years. If you spent any time with me then - or, to be fair, in the 30 years since - you'll be familiar with this.
This is a version of Marillion that I like a lot, and would have liked to see a lot more of. For one thing, it's short. By which I mean "Not that short, actually, but relative to most of their stuff, it at least you can listen to it and still get to bed on time". It has a sensible verse/chorus structure - something Marillion seem hell bent on avoiding at all costs. And it has an absolutely delightful, soaring chorus.
Do more songs like this please, Marillion.
I know. You won't. Fine.
Fading Lights - Genesis
This song would have rounded off side one of the C90 cassette, and it's a long one. So I'm guessing the tape ran out about half way through. This is from "We Can't Dance", Genesis's last album with Phil "Lot of work for charity" Collins, and it's an odd beast.
The album is mostly full of chart friendly stuff, embracing Genesis's slightly weird move from 'Mad Prog Nonsense-mongers' to "Machine Like Producers of Top Pop Hits." It's quite good stuff, for the most part, if not a patch on the Gabriel era weirdness which, you'll be unsurprised to know, I preferred.
But. There were two or three tracks on there which seemed to hark back to their early days, when they made great big ten minute songs about weasels and knights, with great big wibbly keyboard solos and giddy diversions into experimental rock. This is one of those tracks, and I very much enjoy it.
Another reason for its inclusion, of course, is that opening line... "Another time it might have been so different...", and all the references to fading memories and goodbyes. Yes, I'm still determined to create a kind of aural tombstone for the relationship I deliberately killed. I only hope I didn't make her a copy of this, and present it as some kind of artistic statement.
I'm worried that I might have. It's exactly the sort of thing I might have done...
Wanted Dead or Alive - Bon Jovi
More from Bon Jovi, to open up side two. What a way to kick off - with that excellent jangly guitar bit, which every guitarist I know spent ages replicating, with diminishing returns.
This is quite fun, as far as it goes. It's not quite 'my' kind of song. Its all very masculine and alpha, bristling with super hard imagery where real men sleep under the stars and eat whisky and kill each other as a way of saying hello. I am quite a long way from being this kind of man, and would cry every day if I had to do any of the things mentioned in this song.
I take some comfort, however, from the fact that this kind of masculinity, far from being a hard-as-nails representation of how a man should live, is in fact a silly cartoonish masturbation fantasy, fooling only small boys and, it seems, some social media influencers.
Devil Inside - INXS
Kaboom! It's the boys from INXS again, flouncing back in with some more extraordinary pop rock joy. It's a lovely counterpoint to the last song; a kind of magical art-noise that is somehow incredibly sexy and cool without feeling the need to shout "I eat guns for breakfast! See my motorbike!"
Apart from its simple aesthetic beauty, I liked this song for its sentiments. I'd been breathing in a lot of Christianity which said things like, "Demons are everywhere! If you listen to Iron Maiden, the Devil will sneak into your brain during a guitar solo!" I knew that sort of thinking didn't sit right, but I was also interested in concepts of good and evil and stuff like that. I liked the idea, espoused in this song, that perhaps we should take responsibility for our own actions, rather than shouting, "Satan told me to do it, and then ran off!"
Market Square Heroes - Marillion
Here, for your pleasure, is Marillion's first single. This means that I must have bought their CD of B-sides, and was rejoicing in that. Do you know what it was called? Marillion's collection of B-sides?
It was called 'B-sides Themselves'.
Yeah! You didn't think you could like Marillion any less, did you? Well. Every day is a school day.
I like this song loads. I'm an absolute sucker for the bouncy, arpeggiated keyboards that wimble happily along, all through the song. This takes me back not to 1994, but to about 1987, when my mate Ian lent me a big bag of Marillion albums and 12 inch singles. Oh, the absolute joy of finding this music, sitting in my parents' lounge in the sun and letting all these wonderful noises pour into my life.
Yes, it's sparse and kind of ropey, and ever so daft. But earnest and silly go together like bacon and eggs, for this boy.
When Will You Make My Telephone Ring? - Deacon Blue
A lovely, soulful song. This is a very consistent collection, isn't it? Not consistently great, perhaps, but there's a kind of solid, mid-tempo pop feel about the whole thing. I should have got into making CD compilations for Father's Day, I'd have been rich. Too late now.
I used to cover this song quite a bit when doing open mic nights. I'm not sure anyone ever recognised it. They probably just thought, "Why has this man written a song that he can't quite sing, doesn't know the words to and often forgets how to play?"
If I ever put this song on these days, my wife will, 100% of the time, call my mobile half way through, and then laugh hysterically. Because she made my phone ring, you see. Like in the song.
Dancing With Tears In My Eyes - Ultravox
As I'm listening to this, I'm realising that I bought most of these CDs in Bradford. This is from a Midge Ure greatest hits. Don't laugh - he was sort of popular in the mid 90s. It was a mixture of his solo stuff and things like this, from his generally higher profile time with Ultravox.
Why did I buy it in Bradford, when I lived in Wakefield? I'm pretty sure I bought the Bon Jovi album there too, and the hilariously named Marillion B-Sides CD. Was I scared of the staff in Wakefield HMV or something? Weird.
This is a good track, which I'd liked since it was in the charts in 84. Hey - that's the same year as the Madness track. Is my 1994 self having some kind of 'Oh, how I remember ten years ago," thing? Ha. Try 30 years, mate.
My Sex - Ultravox!
Whoah, what's this? Two songs by the same band in a row? That's literally not allowed.
It's a different version of Ultravox, though, so maybe I decided that this made it alright. I mean, it's a very different kind of song, isn't it? If I hadn't told you it was the same band, you'd hardly be on the phone to the mixtape police, screaming, "He played two songs by the same band! Yes, in a row!"
This is another song that I absolutely adore. It's the saddest, most wistful, gorgeous thing I've maybe ever heard. That dislocated vocal is about as fragile as a human can sound without turning into dust and poppy seeds. I love the contrast of the warn, organic piano and those ethereal, alien synths. And yet the synths sound kind of sad too, as if they're in melancholy conversation with the piano.
This is a song from a world quite unlike any other. As much as it is possible to be in love with a song, I am in love with this.
Solitary Man - Chris Isaak
Well this doesn't make any sense at all. What's this doing here? Like a super cool guy who turned up at a club, thinking it would be full of hipsters when it fact it's a load of geeks setting up role playing games.
Good song... unremarkable. Is this a Neil Diamond cover? Yes, the internet says it is. And the internet would never lie.
I can only assume I included it because of the title. Because I was a solitary man, you see. Did I mention that I'd recently ended a relationship?
Never Say Goodbye - Bon Jovi
Ok, this is getting embarrassing. I'm clearly desperate to create some kind of massive emotional narrative to this break up I've just had, and really there wasn't one. I suppose that's the reason, isn't it? I felt like it should be a bigger thing, after two years. And I suppose I wanted that thing we all want - to imagine our lives as great stories where everything has some kind of lasting consequence and materially affects the world.
I reckon the only genuine consequence was that I've included rather more maudlin, sentimental songs on this playlists than I might otherwise have done. I guess when it comes down to it, we're all the victims of my cavalier actions. I'm very sorry. Please don't come round my house and sniffle and cry for two weeks.
Living Forever - Genesis
Another quite long song from that Genesis album, with some pleasing boopy synth bits. It's interesting hearing the band trying to remember who they once were, years ago when they were way less successful and much more hairy.
Are they trying to prove something, do you reckon? "Hey guys, we never sold out - those playful, arty instincts are still here, under all the glossy production of the chart hits." I heard them once being interviewed, and defending the move to shorter, less complex music. They said something like, "We say the same things as before, it just takes us less time." As if getting to the end of a nice thing faster was some kind of virtue.
Mind you, I was complaining about the exact opposite thing earlier, wasn't I, when I was talking about Marillion? Why couldn't they do shorter, poppier songs?
Can anyone please me? Why don't you try, and we'll find out together.
Made Again - Marillion
The last track on the tape, and another absolutely baffling choice for inclusion.
This is a quite charming song, and it works really well on its parent album, Brave. It comes at the end of that album, following a quite heavy onslaught of tracks that are musically dense, emotionally fraught and - obviously - very, very long. The drop to this sparse, acoustic number works really well. Maybe that's what I'm going for here.
Thanks for joining me on this journey through October 1994. As you can see, I was quite desperately trying to create some kind of cathartic soundtrack to an emotional disaster movie, but instead ended up making a collection that could easily be called, "Now That's What I Call Self Indulgent Dad Rock".
You'll be pleased to know that my pain is short lived and, indeed, basically non-existent. When you join me for the next mixtape, you'll find I've already got my eye on someone else.
In the meantime, why not look back in time, to see what I was up to, musically, in September 1994? It's right here and it is, of course, amazing:
I Made You a Mixtape - September 1994
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