Frankie Goes to Hollywood - Two Tribes

I was a little girl when Frankie said Relax. I was a little girl when I saw Frankie's video to 'Two Tribes'. I must have been about 7 or 8 years old. What does a 7 or 8 year old know about the world? The Cold War? World Leaders? Apparently enough to be fascinated by the video. I remember being captured by the television when they showed the video and still the song stands the age of time (sadly). The biting off the ear. The bizar nature of the video and how this was reality. I knew this, I must have known that the world was a weird place to be with world leaders battling each other over idiot issues. Politics was something that hit me at an early age, apparently.

The ballad of Michael Steele

One of the first musicians I admired for who they were was Michael Steele, the red-haired bassist from the Bangles. I don't think I saw it like that at the time but looking back she may be very well the first famous woman I had a crush on. I was a big fan of the Bangles, also after they split (I'm not so after 2005 when Michael left/got kicked out of the Bangles) buying all their records, all versions of the singles, etc. As far as Michael was concerned, I wanted her hair, I so wanted her hair. My mother tried to help me with it ('That's henna red' she said so I tried that, it's disgusting and had little result) but I never got it red so I settled for a Vicki Peterson blond string of hair in my dark brown hair (as where lay the key for not getting that red hair from the drug store). At art class in high school we once had to make an advertisement poster using a certain technique, advertising a product carrying your name. I made a concert poster, advertising myself 'and my bass guitar' drawing a gigantic bass guitar. The teacher had no idea how to deal with a concert poster and gave me a 6/10. But still, Michael Steele ruled!

And she still does.

After the Bangles split new music game into my life and with that punk and grunge. I do see, and try to convince people, that the Bangles very well could have fitted into the riot grrrl scene if they had started in the early 90s rather than early 80s. They were very garage before Prince decided to step in and write them a very sweet Manic Monday. The Bangles have been marketed by their record company and the women all regret not having stepped up more for themselves. It didn't all went the way they wanted it too go which in the end was the reason for disbanding the band.

But, like I said, other music game into my life and the Bangles moved a little bit to the background with me occasionally picking up their records again, mostly their older records, rarely 'Different Light', their pop-album featuring 'Manic Monday' and 'Walk like an Egyptian' (their break-through album). I have always loved Michael's songs the best. Her voice is raw and still very warm. She has written the best songs in my opinion as well. Michael Steele always stood out with the Bangles, it wasn't just her hair, but it was also her attitude. The more internet came to live, the more I was able to look up and the more it became clear. Michael somehow was the black sheep of the Bangles. None surprising she was the one with the least media attention after the split, she kept a low profile with underground bands, taking care of dogs she had rescued from the shelter, with her garden and her painting. She's mysterious, hence her quite cult-like following. And none-surprising, she was the last Bangle to re-join the band issuing concerns about the band still being taken seriously. She left 5 years and 1 year later, feeling that the others in the band didn't take it as seriously as she did. The others quite blamed her for not being understanding. I think it went down pretty ugly.

Due to Michael, I can't get into the Runaways. The oh so cool it hurts Runaways. She was a member of that band, has recorded 1 album that's only been released as a demo-re-release in 1993, and she was the bassist and main vocalist for the time that it lasted. She never wanted to be reminded of that time, called some song ideas retarted and couldn't conform to the sexist wishes of their management. The Runaways were a pretty marketed concept, young girls with guitars exploited for being young girls with guitars. Something young women with guitars 15 years later would rebel against. I do believe that the film made a few years back gives you a wrong picture of the band, Michael not being the only ex-member not wanting to be involved, hence you have a fictional band member in that film.

Michael Steele, she's a hero. She's a true musician. She's such a special lady and still looks amazing after all these years. You could say that unknowingly to myself, she's been an inspiration to me all my life. She still is. She still is in my top 5 musicians list (which only include bassists and drummers, I'm a sucker for the rhythm section, it started with her!). The Bangles can do whatever they want right now, I do not care. Michael Steele rocks. She got class and attitude and you better believe it.

It's a Rockabilly Party! By Quasi, of course

It took me a while to see the light, so to speak, but ever since I 'got it', Quasi very much grew to be one of my favourite bands rapidly. The anticipation for their 2010 album was huge. When I heard 'Repulsion' early 2010 I instantly bombarded 'American Gong', the album they would release a few months later, to be the best album of 2010. To say something like that in the first two weeks of a year is of course insane. It was the first new music I heard that year. I know good stuff when I hear it though, 'American Gong' remained the best release of 2010 and it's one of the albums I would take to the deserted island.

I grew to love their entire discography. Dear God or whoever is in charge, they have some amazing tunes. I just purchased 'Featuring Birds' on LP on a record fair and to hear 1m22s of bird sounds coming from vinyl is amazing. Never mind the lyrics, Sam Coomes is certainly one of the best lyricists of our time. Unless you're a party-head with no sense of what happens in the world and the concequences of that.

I saw them live in a tiny venue in Amsterdam. One of the best shows I've visited that year, possibly the best even. Not just the performance was spot-on, the band brought an unique energy. It sounds overly dramatic but I left the show a changed person. I often sit and think back of that show, the energy, meeting Janet Weiss and Sam Coomes, cursing myself not addressing Joanna Bolme after all (she was breaking down the equipment, thus working and it just felt inappropriate. Now I have a signed setlist with her autograph missing which is inappropriate as well) and about the amazing music I heard. The setting wasn't anything special, it simply was a huge contrast to all the hyped indie bands I deeply disliked so much and held a grudge against. The grudge made room for don't bother. Furthermore, I haven't felt old and out of place at any gig attented any more. I'm not too old mind, I'm just not 20 anymore and who cares.

The video I posted at the top (with a reason, if you don't like reading, JUST WATCH THE VIDEO) is recorded the same day I saw them perform in Amsterdam, it's taken on a roof top nearby the venue. It makes the footage the more special. For me anyway. Thanks guys.

If you play this stuff backwards, it says 'This sucks!

"Hey Butthead, what is teenspirit?"
"You mean you don't know. Dude, then I'm not gonna tell you."

The nineties. The Wall was down, the Cold War was over, Bush invaded Iraq, the Internet knocked phonebills sky high, Napster was still unharmed by Lars Ulrich, the economy was booming, Generation X wasn't doing much, MTV still played music videos, Britpop somewhat ruined rock music, there was Nirvana, flannel shirts. And Beavis & Butt-head. I AM CORNHOLIO! I NEED TEEPEE FOR MY BUNGHOLE. MY BUNGHOLE WILL SPEAK NOW. BOOIIIINNGGG!!!!

Anyway, Beavis and Butt-head are cult heroes. They commented on music videos and many artists considered it a honour when they slaughtered their video on the show. If you think about it rationally the show is incredible lame but that was the strength. Generation X embraced them. Loved them. Laughed like them. They had books, a duet with Cher and a movie. Beavis and Butt-head ruled! But as MTV slowly went down, the show ended as well. After four year of utter nonsense Beavis and Butt-head ended in 1997. The end of an era.

But they'll return! Mike Judge is making new episodes for MTV. The boys will still me obnoxious teenage boys but the show will be a little updated. I'm not quite sure if this will turn out well. Sometimes you need cult to rest. You can show re-runs but new episodes? It's like Pavement doing a reunion tour, that's fine. But let's be honest for a second, a new Pavement album wouldn't be much of a good idea. But we'll see where Beavis and Butt-head will be heading. At least the commenting on current music videos will return. Now that's something to look forward to. "Aaaahhh!!! Aaaaah!! What's that? Is that a dude?" "No dumb-ass, that's Lady Gaga. She's a Lady." Stay tuned for more lame-ass, nineties brilliance.

The Kaiser Chiefs and I - a tragic lovestory

As it's more and more evident that Kaiser Chiefs wil return this summer, here's a little something I'd like to call 'Kaiser Chiefs and I'. If it remains an exciting Trilogy is entirely up to the men from Leeds themselves.

In the beginning...
I was majorly into Kaizers Orchestra. I ompaad through my days. Kaizers were King. A band called Kaiser Chiefs came along but I ignored. My sister poked me, saying that I should check them out because they were good. But you know, there can only be one Kaizer and for me that was the Orchestra. Up until I saw 'Oh my god' in the last days of MTV showing music videos. Then I heard 'I predict a riot'. I bought 'Employment' and realised that there can be indeed two Kaizers.
Their club shows were unbelievable. Such energy. I enjoyed everything from the balcony and they became my favourite band. I ignored their 5,000 capacity HMH gig until the moment I thought that I might give the band a go in that venue as well, realising it was sold out. I didn't mind. Slowly I became aware of the fans and how they rocked and rolled. I'm not a big fan of fans (or it has to be the SBS6 tv show 'Fans!'). I've never really fitted in with any fanbase. Though with the Chiefs I became a regular on the forum. And thanks to Ricky Wilson's amazing appearence in Never Mind The Buzzcocks I started to realise that these friends of theirs, The Cribs, are actually pretty nice guys too. Making great music. Heavier. But greatly amazing.

Everything is average nowadays...
Ruby Ruby Ruby!! Album number two was highly anticipated and my sister arranged a special hearing session for me (in our living room) and I loved it upon firts hearing though I already spotted some dodgyness. It sure wasn't 'Employment' but it was good. We went to both Paradiso shows, my colleagues knew me as nothing more or less as a Kaiser Chiefs fan and I left the front row for Interpol at Lowlands to run across the grounds on my own to get a somewhat decent spot to see them Kaisers. My love for Kaizers Orchestra had somewhat run down. There's only so much love for a Kaizer you can have. I met nice people through the band's forum. I never actually met them at gigs but with a select few I kept in touch outside the forum. It's amazing how music connects. I wanted to diss the 5,000 capacity HMH but in some weird run down of affairs I ended up there anyway. It wasn't that bad. Though I liked the support band no one liked a lot more than the band that everyone adored. Something about the band started to irritate me as well. Especially drummer Nick started for no particular reason to get on my nerves. There was something weird about the band and it wasn't just the fans. It was the band itself as well. As my love grew for the Cribs I started to see how much they grew apart, the Chiefs and the Cribs, and that was actually kind of sad. The Cribs due to their raw live shows filled with raw energy and their pure honesty got the best of me. They overtook the band who made me aware of them in the first place. Outch?

Off I say, off with their heads, off, off! (or the Show Down)
Riding high on success, they didn't really want to release an album but then there was Mark 'Horn section' Ronson and he wanted to work with them, they didn't plan it but they wrapped up an album for ragerdless. Of course, the fanbase loved it. To me it was the most uninspired piece of garbage compressed in 30 minutes. I couldn't get myself around on spending money on that album. I found it later for 3 pounds in Tesco's and I still couldn't get myself to spend even 3 pounds on that piece of crap. I was quite vocal about that commercial suicide, honesty doesn't pay off well. But to me, how could a band that always claimed to stay true to themselves, sell out so shamefully? Hanging out with celebrities they hated so much, making bland music, claiming they were doing so well where instead I wasn't the only one who thought the album was by all means really shit.

I did go see them volunteerly in the HMH. It was sold out. I met up with the girls I met at a radio show earlier which was the highlight of the entire event. I stood front row and hated, absolutely hated the support act. What was I doing here? This is the new indie and I hate the new indie. Kaiser Chiefs had become the new indie. They had sold out. It became so evident when they hit the stage. And I realised the love is gone. The band I had adored for the past years was gone and it was a tough thing to swallow. I knew that it would stop right here right now. Early on in the show they played 'Modern Way' from their first album and I let myself go, I sang my heart out, that song still is my favourite. I cried, front row, I was sincerly sad to know that this band is not my band anymore. It sounds overly dramatic now but I wasn't having a good time in overall as they played most from their latest album. The grand final 'Oh my god' was cut short which didn't do my mood very good.

One person however told me to get over myself for not liking what they were doing right now. He had seen me at the gig and wondered why on earth a person on front row would cry and look so incredibly depressed. I know I have no pokerface but that this person was telling me he saw me in that state was quite shocking. This person was band member Simon Rix. I stood on the left side of the stage, he on the right side. And he had seen me. It's not a nice knowledge to know that the band is indeed able to see the people in the crowd. Fuck my life really. After that came anger. Who the hell was he to tell me to get over myself and that they were doing so well with great songs they loved playing? Kaiser Chiefs from then on were a done deal for me. What a band of wankers.

The Kaiser Chiefs make a return this summer with a festival tour and a new album. I'm curious but I don't have my hopes high up. I think them Chiefs have showed their true faces and I didn't like them. It's not a big deal. Loads of people will like it and that's fine. There will always be something special attached to the Kaiser Chiefs for me. But that awful third album will never make it to my record collection and I doubt the fourth will as well.

The Kaizer's empire will fall down, it will fall down.

It's the sad ballad of anyone who loves a band. There will be a point in your life that this band will end. No more new albums, no more tours. No more. Up until the time this band runs out of cash, but that's another story. Let's just asume that when a band calls it a day, it's over. The end. Finito. And even though you know bands come and go, that there are other bands in the sea, the world won't end, every ending of a band is a heartbreaking affair for any fan.

I had my first favourite band in 1981 and have been through numerous band-endings with various reason such as breaking up due to popularity of the band, band members fighting, dying, running out of inspiration, not feeling up for it anymore, you name it, it has happened. A band member dying always has a double effect, any break up of a band hits hard. No more new music, no more gigs. It's a tough thing to swallow.

But what happens when you know that the band you like has just released an album, will be releasing another two albums, is touring and really don't hate each other at all, make it known that in two years it's over. 2013 it's going to be all over. That's in two years, you know that now already. What is that all about?

It's weird and a little unreal. It makes you aware of that you need to enjoy that show because it might be the last, in fact, it'll be one of the last. You know that. I've left a show thinking 'wow, is this the last gig ever?' (known as Gary-Gate), I've been to shows where months later the band announces a 'break', I've been to reunion shows assuming it's the last gig I'll ever go to see them. This is different. There's two more years, two more years of two new albums, new tours, two more years of regular fan behaviour. Or isn't it?

It hasn't sunk in yet but Kaizers Orchestra will be no more after 2013. A band active and about more than ever. This is their grand finale. And they're doing it with a bang. With a final trilogy. The Kaizers very last story. It really hasn't sunk in yet. But I will be try and enjoy it to the max.

People, get a (vintage) grip!

"Oh my god, will you look at that? He had tapes, I mean, TAPES, when he was a little kid." I know it's cool to be a vintage whore (is it? I'm not really up to date to things cool, and hip for that matter) and to listen to TAPES is oh so marvelously vintage and damn, don't we all love a good old mixtape.

I love tapes too, I do. I got a few left from when I was a kid/teenager and bought some on a record fair a few years back. All in the name of nostalgia. I would love nothing more than make genuine mixtapes and send them out to people. Problem is, who still has a cassette deck?

My sole and only point writing this is: look, if a thirty-something tells you they found their old collection and you scream out "OH MY GOD, TAPES!", it just makes me think 'how much of a retard are you?'. It's all vintage and cool now, but back in the days, it was all we had because LPs were expensive to buy with our pocket money. Every person over thirty owned tapes. We're sorry for being cool by the faith of time.

Revolution is of all times and ages and there's a new one coming

If I had been granted unlimited internet access, lived in Olympia or in a sleepy UK town and a little bit older and had the right friends (absolutely nothing wrong with the friends I had, they lacked the exact same things I lacked), I probably was a riot grrrl in the early nineties loving all the riot grrrl bands playing it right at that time. I probably wouldn't have been able to see them play, I'm not even sure how I would even know about them, being a teenage girl in Rotterdam, the Netherlands who's friends were into Metallica and Dream Theatre and (later on) Nirvana. I would have had to rely on mixtapes from America. I had none. But without all that I think, looking back, I might have been one all along and ever since. Because, it's not a music genre, it's a social subculture. This is pretty much what it was and what it still is. It's not death, it never was. A movement can be small and pushed back by male dominance and the media (which could be regarded the same thing).

I've always loved music more than the average person (except a few years after Doe Maar broke up, I must have been that upset that I shut down from music altogether and when I saw a poster of ballet shoes in the room of a friend I thought 'So, this must be this Spandau Ballet everyone is all about.' No shit.), listening to the lyrics of one of the Doe Maar albums I seriously questioned why my mother would let a 6-year-old listen to that, it's Dutch so I understood every word, I just didn't know what they meant. But I'm grateful today and my mother told me she let me have the albums as she found them educational for me. I enjoyed playing DJ in my room, made re-mixes of my favourite songs with my records and a tape recorded, made hit lists, made my own music magazine, wrote my own reviews, even about albums that didn't exist. My music evolution knows some questionable choices but you got to know your enemy before forming an opinion right (coughs)? And one Easter break I sat with my sister in a caravan and we talked about forming a band together. I wrote down some lyrics and we both were content with them. The idea of forming a band together returned a couple of times in our lives. I own a guitar, an electric guitar, a ukulele (a green one and it's the coolest you'll ever see). I've played drums on a friend's kit back in high school to which he informed me I was the best player of everyone there (I at least knew how to hold the sticks). I wanted to be a harmonica player and owned a few cheap ones (much to the stress of my parents). My aunt actually gave me her guitar when I was about 14. I've always been aware of the politics of our country, I've always questioned the role of women in this world, I'm a socialist ever since I was able to vote (and probably before as well), every job test I made in school said I should be a social worker (not regarding I'm really socially awkward and don't trust people that much. If you're my friend consider yourself lucky), I've been called a true punk throughout my life without seeing myself as one ('I don't have the looks!'), and if I do something on a regular basis it's kicking against society. In the comfort of my own home.

Why on earth did I never form that band you say? There's one very good reason and it's not even my voice (I auditioned for a band once and let's say my friends were not impressed though they never told me directly). I have the music ability of a penguin. Place a penguin at the carnival in Rio and it will dance as hopelessly I will. A penguin has just as much chance to play a decent chord on a guitar with its wings than I have with my hands. I often do not sing at concerts because I don't want to insult the band. Usually the only person who can hear me sing is myself and that's enough to put me off. I may have all the inspiration and intentions to be in the best punk band you've ever seen but, to use the wise words of Joost Belifante about violist in my own situation; I'm a trans-musician. A musician in the body of a total none-musician. It sucks doesn't it?

There are others things I could do. Yesterday when I saw the Socialist Party handing out their newspaper for the States Election this March I approached one of them and he happened to be the chairman of the division where I live. If they needed some helping hands. I have no idea if I'm able to do it, if I can get out of the comfort zone of sitting on my couch with my laptop and being utterly passive aggressive behind a screen, ranting about music, politics and social atrocities in a blog and on twitter. I feel a revolution happening. And who knows, I might dis my inner penguin and play protest songs for real. I'm not too old. No one is too old. As Ernst Jansz told me "It's entirely up to you".

The beauty of aging

How to describe a band no one has heard of, I didn't even know what they sounded like until yesterday, playing a style I usually don't listen to and not that familiar with (except for knowing it exists). How to write a review when you don't know the titles (except for the 3 Nederpop classics they played plus one more). As far as the band regards, they are described as being 'the Dutch oldest hippie band' (founded 1967) and posting a fairly recent photo of them below, it could give you an idea. The audience? It's fair to say, 50+, men were either grey or bald, women grey or having good dye-jobs. Add three giggling young men dragged along with their parents and their friends (who turned out to be Massive Fans) and me. In a small theatre with the most comfortable chairs. Not knowing what to expect but knowing Joost Belifante is in the band, who most notable (for me) wrote and performed Doe Maar's classic song 'Nederwiet' (a 7 minute spoken word epos on how to grow your own weed) and two other Doe Maar legends being Jan Hendricks and Ernst Jansz who is my hero in many ways. I couldn't describe them and I still can't.



So this is not about the band. Being the youngest person there for the band felt weird but I soon realised the people were incredibly nice. And really excited about the show. The anticipation was high. And the responds massive. After every song there's be clapping, not just polite but filled and fueled with appreciation. Every note was appreciated, and people waited until the last note echoed away only ti burst out in a wave of appreciation. 'Beautiful, this is wonderful' I heard so often around me. Feet stomped on the floor to the rhythm (I'll try to explain the sound, think Seasick Steve as a band). And these men, all well in their 60s, had so much joy playing the songs. They talked about them with passion. They told anecdotes, they made jokes about Amsterdam parking (Belifante was being fined for unloading his vehicle in front of the venue). It was that joy they desplayed that also came across in their playing that made it wonderful, so incredibly enjoyable. They loved it, everyone in the theatre loved it. Everyone was loving it and it felt great. And again, the appreciation, it's something you don't get that often, it's not that when I'm in a crowd at a gig I feel the appreciation from the crowd. They're loving it, sure, but don't we take the band not for granted? We expect them to play for us but where's the appreciation? It's not in record sales, downloads, t-shirt sales. It's a feeling and you can express that. It's not often I felt it before and I'm not playing holy saint that I'm always full of appreciation, I'm having a good time and loving it, love it when they play that one track I love so much. Of course there is some form of appreciation. It's hard to describe, it was just different last night.

Maybe it's because when you're older you start to appreciate things more. If that's the way to go I'm signing up. Well, I have. Officially. I told Jansz that they are truly inspiring and he said that it's all up to you whether you keep on loving music that passionately. What I'm saying is, never stop loving music. Appreciate it. Keep on going to gigs even when you think you are too old. Or too young. You love it, keep on doing it. If there was anything learnt last night, even though I already knew it, it's that. And I will. Janet Weiss said in an interview that she could see herself playing covers in a band at the age of 70 and that it wasn't a bad faith. Not at all. She's right you know.

Please note I completelty left out the surprise guest musician. Who was, I may add, golden.

The dream of the 90s is still alive (Portlandia)

Here are the boys from the Opel Gang!

The first time I got consciously in touch with punk music was in a rather delicate time in my life. In the summer while my parents were going through their divorce I was sent to my grandparents in a little village in Germany. My uncle had just bought a double album by German altpunkers Die Toten Hosen and while I was going through his rather cool record collection I found it and practically claimed it as well. I'm not sure what went through my mind when I heard them for the first time but reality was that I went home with a couple of cassettes of Die Toten Hosen - and my uncle's CD. A young teenager with parents going through a divorce getting her hands on a punk record. It might be every parents' nightmare. For me it was an eye-opener, especially when they released 'Learning English, lesson one' only one year later which included only covers by their favourite punk bands, mainly with their favourite punk bands. Of course I already learnt about the Sex Pistols and the Ramones but there was so much more! It was like they sent out a mixtape with punk favourites. No such thing as youtube, wikipedia, google, spotify, lastfm and internet my friends, we kids had to learn about music in other ways.

I spent the majority of the nineties listening to Die Toten Hosen. I also got to learn about another german punk band, Die Ärzte, who I've seen live a few times, met even (really nice guys, very laid back) but who I quickly fell out of love with because they started to somewhat annoy me by flirting with commercialism. With then releasing an album about a barber shop they lost me completely. I'm not sure why I stopped listening to Die Toten Hosen after a while as well because they didn't quite do that, even though they were fairly decent cover stars of German pop-bible Bravo. But I guess I got other interests and with me not being in Germany so frequently, that was a connection that somehow cooled down a lot as well.

I never stopped liking Die Toten Hosen and to be honest, these guys are still cool after all these years. They released their fun punk album 'Opel Gang' in 1983 (my cassette looks like it was purchased right then but I bought it 7 years later) and as the years went by they got more political but never lost their fun side either. For instance, on their 1996 album 'Opium für's Volk' (my favourite album and the last one I was massively into) they had 'Viva la revolution' followed by 'Zehn kleine Jägermeister' which lists down what happens if you drown 10 Jägermeister, or something like that anyway. It's quite genius and they get away with it as it's their nature. They sing mainly in German as you might have guessed but started to sing more in English which personally I don't like that much. It's not that Campino's (the singer) English is bad, his mother after all is British, but his voice is very German in my ears. They're not only being political in songs, but also in campaigns such as posing naked for an anti-fur campaign. And they are big football fans and with their cash they have sponsored their favourite team Fortuna Düsseldorf which indeed resulted the players wearing a skull on their shirts.

I'll leave you with this classic clip from 1993 (hence the bad quality) of 'Wünsch Dir was' before diving into my archives and getting a Tote Hosen fix.

A vintage feeling

Thanks to the internet we often have already heard the albums we've bought. It's not a bad thing, you at least know that what you bought is good, but the magic of cycling home with an LP, hoping that it will stay unscratched until you're home is a little lost. Also, the CD has taken care of that issue already.

The unthinkable happened yesterday. I found two LPs, that's these big, heavy, black round vinyl things with grooves in them, of Quasi. The turn up of about 50 people last May when they played in Amsterdam massively surprised me, who in the Netherlands does know about the band Quasi? I'm one of those 50 and how do I know them you may ask? The internet of course so I'm not dissing the internet by one bit. Only the nostalgia is a bit lost. But there, two albums! As if a light shown down from the heavens on these albums and angels were singing hallelujah. I do not have a poker face so the salesperson behind the counter knew very well he made one person very happy that day.

There was something extra special about these albums, dating from 1999 and 2001. One was completely unknown to me. I knew they released that album but I had never heard it. So today, it was like 1987 again. I took the vinyl out of the sleeve, placed it carefully on the record player and softly put the needle into the grooves. And while cutting my photos into a nice square (talking about vintage activities) I heard 'The sword of god' for the very first time. On an actual music carrier. Just like the music gods have always meant it to be.

This is burning an Eternal Flame

If you read my blog before or if you are lucky enough (or not) to know me personally, you'll know that I'm a fan of the band The Bangles. The fab four of the eighties, those four women who had so many hits in the eighties, the band with lead-singer Susanna Hoffs, that band of the song 'Eternal Flame'. Of course 'Eternal Flame' is the highest entry of the Bangles in the top 2000 at 427 and has been in the top 100 in that very list once and of course it's a beautiful ballad. It was that song that made me fan of the band, even though I always sang the chorus of 'Manic Monday' unaware it was the same band and secretly (not even sure why that was a secret but young teenagers are even weirder than teenagers) loving their version of 'Hazy shade of winter'. I got their 'Everything' album, the album that features 'Eternal Flame' and I loved it. I played the single 'Eternal Flame' so many times it actually turned grey. The b-side of that 7" was the non-album track 'What I meant to say', a raw rock song, not sung by Susanna Hoffs but by the Peterson sisters Debbi and Vicki. Every Bangles fan will be able to tell you that Hoffs is not the lead singer of the Bangles, all the women sang. In 1989, 'Eternal Flame', my 'Eternal Flame' ended up being the biggest selling single of that year. And I was proud.

In 1989, the Bangles split up. The final straw in the friction between the members was the release of 'Eternal Flame'. That, however, is my version. The story of the split of the Bangles is not one to tell in one paragraph, there's a back story to be told. But, if you ever needed to tell this in one sentence, you'd use 'Eternal Flame'.

'Eternal Flame', even though it's the song that turned this girl a fan and glued to the television every time the video appeared on screen (which was an awful lot those days, we still had an MTV that played music videos), is by far not my favourite song by this fab four. It's not even because of the split association. It's a nice song, it's lovely, it's highly romantic. But on 'Everything' you'll find one song, which comes right before 'Eternal Flame' that is even more beautiful, romantic, heartbroken that that, it's Michael Steele sung 'Something to believe in'. That song is gorgeous. Steele's warm, bluesy voice is amazing, which is also evident in the first song of side B 'Glitter Years'. The Bangles are no matter what a rock band. They made fantastic pop songs, but their rock songs are so much better.

Still, I'm really pleased by 'Eternal Flame' featured in this List of All Lists here in the Netherlands. Be it the one that isn't their best and doesn't do the band justice for what they really were. It's the one people remembered and still cherish. People still remember the Bangles and that's great indeed.

Riding the Bicycle Race during the Top 2000

According to my mother, and who would know better than her, my first ever favourite song was by Queen, 'Bicycle Race'. Things could be loads worse than that of course. The song was released in 1978 (I was 2 at the time) and my mother was a big fan of Queen, playing the album 'Jazz' a lot of times (also on that album, 'Fat bottomed girls' and 'Don't stop me now'). And according to my mother I always asked for the bicycle song and when she played it I was dancing in the living room, it were the bicycle bells in the song that appealed to me most probably.

Even though both my parents have an embarrassing record collection (my dad loves German Schlagers, think Heino and Udo Jürgens, my mother also owns records by Barbara Streisand), I think my love for rock music comes from my mother. I can recall sitting in front of the record player with my mom and playing LPs, mostly Queen, but also Janis Joplin, Bee Gees, Michael Jackson (Off the wall and later Thriller), Kate Bush and Kiss. I remember taking her singles to my room and rocking out to one of the Kiss songs and wondering about the men in make up on the sleeve.

When I started to develop my own taste (at the age of 5 or 6) I got into reggae and ska, considering I was crazy about the song 'Pass the Dutchie' by the Musical Youth and my unconditional adoration for Doe Maar. My mother was very supportive of that, getting me the albums and most notable the '4us' album which a lot of kids back then were told by their parents to take the album back to the store because of the swearing on the album. My mother however told me I had to keep it because the swearing was educational, noting that the swearing was placed in relation to heroin and the song is the biggest and most in your face anti-drugs anthem this country has ever known.

But my love for music started with Queen. Like I said, could have been worse. Loads worse.

Doe Maar in the Top2000

The Top 2000 is a trip down to memory and if there's several songs in the list by the first ever band you loved, you can't help but dust off the albums (or in my case desperately trying to get more songs on MP3 and loud them to my walkman) and enjoy them all over again. In my case I've spent plenty of time on my bicycle listening to Doe Maar. The Netherlands' most popular band ever. They played a mix of ska, reggea, pop and a bit of punk and sang their critical, free-thinking, relationship, political songs in Dutch. The band introduced merchandising in the Netherlands. They produced such a demand for the band that they had to call it a day. And when they did I sat crying in front of the television. I was 8 years old but I can still see them in the dressing room. For a very long time I had a serious gap in my music history, apparently I said goodbye to music when they split (must have been the time I read every book about the weather our library had in stock).

Doe Maar songs are a document of the early 80s in the Netherlands. I'm not here to give a national history lesson but we all know the phrase 'history repeats'. Their songs are relevant all over again. I could always relate to songs as 'Pa' (about how you're not like your dad wanted you to be) and 'Ruma Saja' (about how you're also a stranger in your father's country, I was able to tell this to the singer of the song, Ernst Jansz, earlier this year which was one of the best moments in my life), but songs such as 'Doe maar net alsof je neus bloed' (about closing your eyes for what's going on in the world) and 'De bom' (The bomb, chorus goes little as 'Come on drop it already, it's going to happen anyway, it doesn't matter if you run') are relevant again. They have timeless classics everyone older than 30 is able to sing along effortless. That's what makes a great band. I'm really not a fan of Dutch music, but Doe Maar, I have to admit this once and for all, is a part of me.

Here's 'De bom', a song that captures the main aspects of the band the best. Curiously it never appeared on an album.

Tour of Duty or For what it's worth (a flashback)

As a young teenager I enjoyed watching the US war TV series 'Tour of Duty'. It was the close friendship the Vietnam soldiers maintained that made the show what it was. Every week I sat in front of the television to watch the 'adventures' (it's a little wrong to call it adventures, this is war and not quite Indiana Jones) of Zeke Anderson, Danny Percell, Marcus Taylor, Ruiz, Duncan and, of course, Myron Goldman. The show didn't focus on the actual war cruelties on fight, but more on other issues such as racism, suicide, fragging, terrorism, civilian deaths and drug abuse. It made the series human.

What also heaviy featured was the music of the era. Sixties music. The theme song was 'Paint it black' by the Rolling Stones. This song will forever be connected with how the helicopters landed on the field and the actors jumping out with their shot guns and Zeke looking back over his shoulder, pausing and showing the name of the actor (Terence Knox, in case you're interested). A few years later I was at a Rolling Stones show and waited patiently until they played this song and went nuts for the few minutes it took. The show was a huge success in the Netherlands and was shown on Veronica, then still part of the Public Network. They knew how successful it was, not just the show but also the music and always being a music pioneer (Veronica originally started as a pirate radio network, making radio from a ship at sea, just outside Dutch waters), they released a few compilations, releasing the music from the TV series, a mighty fine collection of the most delicious sixties tracks. Even as a young teenager I wasn't too keen on 'modern music', so that cassette bought from my own money was played constantly. As always, the first part was better than the follow ups. And on that tape was Buffalo Springfield with 'For what it's worth'. I instantly fell in love with that song and I'm both surprised and worried about how valid the words still are today.

I had to think about that just now, as it played on the radio. I had to think of the TV series. I decided to share this song here. Very fitting to my sixties mood I'm in at the moment. Enjoy this (sadly) timeless classic.