This week I have been

Reading

The 2011 Tour de France race guide.

Watching

An Idiot Abroad

Listening to

The xx

Discovering

(Or rediscovering) Hamlet - Nicki Greenberg's beautiful new version, thanks to the fabulous Snarkattack, who invited me along to see Nicki talk about the creative process behind the book.

Eating

  • An enormous serve of bangers'n'mash and a nourishing pint of Kilkenny at the Town Hall one dismal Tuesday evening.
  • A "Chachi" - chianina meatball sandwich - another brioche donut and some amazing chocolate tart at Beatrix, which Essjay has reviewed.
  • A lazy Sunday lunch at The Crimean. The Polish hunter's stew (bigos) was just the thing to revive me after a chilly bike ride.
  • Generous piles of fried food with oodles of chillies and sichuan peppercorns at Sichuan House
  • Succulent suckling pig at Liberteene.
  • An array of bright, zesty flavours at Chin Chin, where the only problem was having to choose only some of the items from what looks to be a menu that is all hits, no filler.

Links

The 80s called

And I answered. How could I not? Spandau Ballet and Tears For Fears.

I have vague memories of seeing Spandau Ballet the first (and last) time they toured. They probably played the Sports and Entertainment Centre and I probably managed to get tickets by phoning BASS repeatedly, back in the days of rotary dial phones and no redial buttons. Tickets for touring bands in the ’80s were probably as expensive, relative to the cost of living, as they are now, but working the checkouts at K-Mart kept me comfortably in Dachet jeans, Jakpaks, sandblasted leather jackets, blue mascara and special edition coloured vinyl LPs and EPs. I also have vague memories of writing about it in the late-80s equivalent of a blog: my year 11 English writing journal.

Back in nineteen eighty-whatever, it did not occur to me that I would be going to any gigs in 2010, let alone seeing Spandau Ballet again. Those times that established bands toured, drawing loyal crowds of 40- and even 50-somethings, it seemed kind of sordid, sad. Surely old people knew their place? Surely there was an age at which dignity demanded handing over enjoyment of public entertainment to a younger generation?

With that in mind, it was probably just as well the Ballet waited 25 years before touring again. Had they toured in the late 90s, I might not have gone, or may have bought tickets in an exercise of heavy irony. After 25 years, though, I had a sense of fond nostalgia. It was with without embarrassment that I showed off my tickets to my workmates1.

The actual gig was fine. Fun. Maturity may have taken some of the upper register from voices, and restricted abilities to dance and sing simultaneously, but it also gave a sense of … comfortableness. Contentment. A confidence that wasn’t based on knowing there’d be a queue of young girls lining up at the stage door and outside hotels2, but based on knowing that there was an audience who had fond enough memories of the music and performances to go out on a school night and sing along (and laugh with, not at).

I just… don’t think I’d do it for Paul Young. Sorry, Paul.

= = = = = = = = =

1. Well, almost without embarrassment. One colleague did smirk, but a younger workmate leaped to my defence. “I love ballet! I wouldn’t be embarrassed to go! I used to DO ballet when I was a kid!”. Oh dear.

2. Actually, there were probably some pre-menopausal women wanting to recapture something of their teens, which the repeated references to wives and children seemed designed to thwart.

4 comments to The 80s called

  • Hahaha, regarding that younger colleague I’m sure I remember my uncle telling us about how he did the same thing to one of his younger colleagues. I forget exactly what happened, but as I recall he and someone else were talking about Deep Purple… and his colleague thought they were discussing paint colours.

    Something like that.

    Except that he actually had even more fun laughing at her, because not ONLY was he a much older colleague, but he’d taught her when she’d been a little year seven.

    Given my present age I don’t know if I can comment on anything else about this entry. Actually, I can comment to say that I don’t know who Spandau Ballet is any more than your workmate did… but after my uncle’s story I think I could manage not to embarrass myself with comments like that!! (I hope)
    .-= Jess´s last blog ..Oh, for a life without History =-.

  • Katya

    You know what, I think I probably WOULD see Paul Young…

  • @Jess It was very sweet of her to defend me as she did. I knew it was a long time since I’d seen the band, but when I kept hearing “it’s great to be back after 25 years!” and “wow! 25 years! Melbourne, you’re still looking good!” I thought they were exaggerating. Rounding up for, I dunno, comic effect? Then I did some quick calculations and realised that it was almost exactly 25 years ago… which put them smack bang in the old fogies category. Ouch!

    It made me accept that “old” doesn’t necessarily mean “classic”.

    @Katya Well, we might have to cross the Paul Young bridge when (if?) we get to it!

  • A pity you did not post a pic of you from the ’80′s to illustrate your point. LOL.

    I was fortunate to be about one metre away from Spandau Ballet, needless to say any residual teenage crushes died.
    .-= Reality Raver´s last blog ..Brian McFadden Defends His F-Bomb Explosion – “I Did It For The Children” =-.

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