50 Ways To Prove I’m Rubbish #1

In September this year, confounding everyone who ever knew the chain-smoking, pill-popping, line snorting me, I’ll turn 50.

Which means that I am now in my 50th year. I have completed 49 years, and the next level for me to tackle is level 50.

I mention this because I feel I have to. I’m a good few years older than all of my friends, but not inappropriately so, and I’ve watched them all hit 40, years after I did.

And this is by way of an apology to Hel.

For she had her 39th birthday when we still shared a flat together. But, unable to resist the temptation to pull someone closer to me in age years, to my eternal shame, I said this to her:

“Of course, you’re actually in your 40th year now. Your 39th birthday was just you marking having completed 39 years. After that, you’re in your 40th year. Welcome to your 40s.”

In my defence (by which I mean, I have no defence), I’d had a drink and was trying to be funny.

I won’t repeat her answer.

Whilst that’s techinically correct, I shouldn’t have vocalised it, of course.

I’m not sure what hit me first: the pint or the wine glass. Deservedly so.

(In case any of you wonder why I’m still single here, that’s your answer, right there.)

So, I thought I should mark the impending anniversary by way of a new series, where I acknowledge my age – yes, I’ve completed 49 years and so I’m now in my 50th year.

I’ve seen many bloggers do something similar before, by posting their favourite fifty records for example.

And that’s fine, I’m not criticising that, but I figured I should do something different.

I think, especially when you’re younger, the records you buy, or at the very least admit to liking, lead you into circumstances and company that you may not have experienced had you not pledged your affintity. Maybe it’s far more interesting to have a look at the records that I wish I’d bought, that I recognise now as moments when I could have been cool, when my love of the Quo or my Shakin’ Stevens patch on my parka could have been overlooked by my peers because at least I liked *insert name of cool band/record here*.

Here’s the rules: I’ll post songs which I love and own now, but which I didn’t buy at the time of their release. They must have been released after I bought my first singles with my own money, which was in 1981

So here we go, in no particular order, with 50 songs that I wish I’d bought at the time, but didn’t.

Because his plunge from the public eye was just as meteoric as his ascendancy, it’s very easy to forget what a massive pop star Adam Ant was back at the start of the 1980s. After quitting Adam and the Ants – who I really liked, but who, suprisingly enough, I never bought anything by at the time – he released today’s record,  which I’ve mentioned before, and love: mostly because it’s ruddy great, but partly because of his appearance on Top of the Pops, where he seemed to have the whole studio and every stage at his every whim:

So here’s the first single I wish I’d bought at the time to make me look cool, but didn’t, so I wasn’t:

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Adam Ant – Goody Two Shoes

More soon.

Sunday Morning Coming Down

It’s a Bank Holiday weekend ‘2 for the price of 1’ special offer here on Dubious Taste’s Country slot.

But that’s just because these songs are really short, and I’d hate for you to feel cheated.

Back in the late 80s/early 90s, when I was properly obsessed with all things R.E.M., I bought this album, as Michael Stipe not only produced it, but also supplied backing vocals and, most impressively, handclaps on a couple of tracks.

These two:

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Chickasaw Mudd Puppies – Omaha

Chickasaw Mudd Puppies – Superior

More soon.

Late Night Stargazing

I mentioned, I think, that after Llyr died I’d reignited some lovely old acquaintances, one of which had led to a suggestion of a collective camping weekend.

That’s been put on ice for a while, but, somewhat inevitably, led me to think of this, not least because when we worked together, one of the potential camping party, my old mate Mikey G (hello mate!), was often told (unfairly, in my opinion) that he looked like this chap:

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Badly Drawn Boy – Camping Next To Water

More soon.