FEATURE:
Set Adrift on Memory Bliss
IN THIS PHOTO: Resident, Brighton/PHOTO CREDIT: @residentmusic
at a time when we are inside and unable to appreciate the here and now as urgently and physically as we’d like, many of us are regressing to better times and childhood memories. I am going to publish another feature soon that looks at compilation albums and the best year for music. Right now, I have seen a lot of posts online that relate to fond memories of the past and treasured music memories. It might sound morbid or defeatist, but I think now is a perfectly fine time to be nostalgic and look back. For me, I have missed the tangible delight of looking for albums and browsing. When things start to get back to normal, I hope to get down to Brighton and visit Resident – a fantastic record shop. Of course, I will do other things whilst in Brighton, but I very much miss record shops and leafing through all the new releases; seeing which older albums grab my fancy and, inevitably, spending too much money! Of course, I can still order from Resident online, but there is something to be said for the mingling and being among like-minded people. I do worry about record shops at the moment, and I wonder how many will be forced to close because they cannot trade and sustain themselves. Thinking of buying albums in 2020 turns my thoughts back to when I started visiting music shops to buy singles and albums.
It must have been in the early-1990s when my curiosity began, and I think one of the earliest music-buying memories I have is purchasing NOW That's What I Call Music! 24. That album was released back in 1993, and it was a compilation of the best tracks from the year – and some older ones too. With Snow’s Informer and Shaggy’s Oh Carolina, I am taken back to middle school and a very happy time. One of the hard things about now is we cannot be sociable with music. Before lockdown, most of us listened to albums alone and streamed them; how often do you see people swapping albums and chatting about new releases? Now, we have this physical distance, which casts my thoughts to school. It was a very playful and collaborative environment where tapes would be swapped; I’d often chat with a group of friends about Top of the Pops or what was going to be number-one for that week. High school intensified my passion, and the school playground was awash with conversation about music. As I started high school in 1994, it was Britpop that was all the rage. There was terrific Pop, and a wonderfully colourful musical landscape that was irresistible to impressionable and hungry children. It was during these high-school years where I started to buy a lot of music and, in a way, that was what lit my eventual path to music journalism.
Getting the bus into town and buying a single by Basement Jaxx or the latest Manic Street Preachers album was a simple joy that, now, we long for. Pre-streaming days, having an album in your hand and going home and playing it was the highlight of the week. I had a pile of C.D. singles, and I would often buy compilations and all the biggest studio albums that came out. Once or twice, I would queue early to get an album, and so much of my savings went to music. I think I grew up at the right time. Born in the 1980s; at the peak of my fervour in the 1990s, the physicality of music was what connected me to artists. This is a reason why I still buy music as much as possible and get so much pleasure from visiting record shops. Sure, the sounds and flavour of modern music is very different to what it was in the 1980s and 1990s, but record shops give me a nostalgic buzz every time I visit – even if I am buying a new album. From high-school and the schoolyard sharing and after-school bonding, music was a source of joy, comfort and education. The fact the music industry has been contracted and repurposed during a very rough period means that, for now, I am spending a lot of time going back to music I grew up around. Not only does the warm recollection of better times give me strength to move forward; I am also rediscovering music that I have not played for a while now. I used to listen to quite a bit of Club and Electronic music when I was in high school and sixth form college, and it is wonderful dipping back in.
I publish special lockdown playlists that each cover a particular timeframe in music – I cover three years per playlist -, and that is a nice way of reacquainting myself with some cherished tunes. I feel too much escapism can be a bad thing, but a lot of people are doing it right now. Whether it is a protective blanket or a way of accessing past pleasure in order to find stamina to stay upbeat right now, I am not too sure. For me, I am hoping for a bright feature when this is all done. I know, in the span of our lives, this crisis is a very small part; it will pass and, years from now, it will be a distant memory – though we will not forget what we learned and encountered in 2020. New music is providing fuel and enjoyment, but I am pining for all the great singles and albums that I enjoyed growing up. When I hear these songs, memories of school, home and life in general come back – it gives that little boost and fond nostalgia that I feel we can all do with. I think I am also listening to music more right now than I ever have; not just older stuff, but newly-released material too. We will get through the other side of this with a new appreciation of musicians, live music and albums in general. One of my first desires is to go record shopping, but I have been streaming too much, whereas I should be buying more – that will change soon enough. Whilst we adapt to a new way of life (for now), think about the albums, artists and moments that soundtracked your young life. It provides a wonderful solace and ray of sunshine. I am going to cast my mind back to school-time jams and…
SET adrift on memory bliss.