Three days late so far. Got to be a girl, keeping us waiting like this. Oh come on, hurry up and come and go!
For the commute I pulled the Stone Roses out of the CD collection and apologised for neglecting them for a while; been hanging around with young whippersnappers like Fleet Foxes and um, Paul Weller.
We keep accumulating culture. I wonder how long we can keep it all manageable? Our parents had the Beatles and the Stones – but so did we, their music never went away. And we also had the Stone Roses and Radiohead too, and our kids will have the Beatles and the Stones and the Stone Roses and Radiohead and Fleet Foxes and whatever else comes along.
There’s a weird foreshortening effect when you try to place things in time. Why do music videos date so much more quickly than the music itself?
Elephant Stone sings to me of Adidas Gazelles, sunlit concrete, fizzy cider, plastic footballs, Saturday nights, skinny jeans and trackie tops, girls at the Thekla, Britpop, lounging on the grass at the Ashton Court festival, four independent record shops on Park Street, tequila slammers (nasty), boomerangs on the Downs, On the Road, essay deadlines, dingy flats and Trainspotting posters...
Some of those things seem ages ago, some very near and some blend into the present anyway. I still generally have a pair of Adidas Gazelles on the go but skinny jeans are most definitely a thing of the past. (God, all these years with that song in my head and only now, thanks to the internet, have I learnt that that line is not “Teacher Ben and Butcher go…” but “Did your bed and bookshelf go, and run run run away?” Unusually, the actual words are a poetic improvement on the kissthisguy)
Responsibility looms. Is it really all over so soon? No, music lasts forever and time is meaningless. I’ll start Junior on Sally Cinnamon; it’s a song for All Ages.