Monday, March 07, 2011

It was one curious afternoon, months before I cancelled my gym membership. I was half-heartedly ambling on a treadmill, listening to Paul Artrocker's radio show on my then-intact iRiver. I had made the habit of listening to Artrocker in places that were completely incongruent with the Artrocker credos. This music was clearly intended for the emaciated cool kids of Camden. I had visions of them in their dimly-lit squats, hungover and hungry, sniffling and sitting on green milk crates. I wanted a place to sniffle and sit with my own fold of Camden cool kids. Instead, I could only listen to songs and details of their antics, as I ambled alone with an alarmingly high heart rate, half a world away.

Quite aside from my desire for a milk crate, Paul Artrocker happened to indirectly touch upon a frustration which I felt so keenly, one that was so relevant to my own isolated listening practices. Paul was to report of all the goings-on for the week in London. He was to detail all the gigs, instore appearances, club nights and related musical antics, but alas there was nothing to report. Nothing was going on in London town. As he appealed to the good listeners of Resonance FM to email with their forthcoming events, I couldn't help but detect that hint of dissatisfaction in his tone. It made me wonder whether it was even possible that my favourite city could be completely bereft of musical activity. Perhaps Paul had grown weary and disenchanted with the scene? It made me wonder: what can we possibly do when we think we're over it?

The prospect of getting over music is commonly brought up by those who don't really care about anything. Occasionally the words getting over would be replaced with the words growing out of, almost to suggest that engagement with pop culture has something to do with being a hormonal adolescent. It is a fearful and offensive prospect, to imagine that something so central to our existence is merely a phase. After all, to those who really care about music, it dictates who we spend our time with, how we spend our time and how we spend our money. Perhaps even more obviously, it is a sign of heartfelt allegiance. It is an indication that we identify with a gang who shares our tastes and ideals. We can wear badges on our blazers, indicating that we're a mod or a punk or even an artrocker. We can protest that this allegiance will be forever, but there is a part of us that can never truthfully guarantee it will always be this way.

I admit now, as I have admitted on previous articles on C&CM that there have been genres I have grown weary of. There have been times where I have lost my direction and focus. I can see now that my loss of passion had nothing to do with the scene, as such, but my unwillingness to further explore the recommendations of others. I know, particularly from the construction this week's Italo Disco podcast, that a scene need not have local gigs or club nights. It may be a scene that could be accurately described as "extinct", but even still, the mere act of discovering undiscovered music can be one that is so exciting and so thoroughly stimulating. The prospect of discovering the undiscovered is one that we should hold onto, tightly and to our chests, when we ask that question: what can we possibly do when we think we're over it?

Cassettes & Chocolate Milk: Italo Disco Podcast #30
B.W.H. - Livin' Up
Hugh Bullen - Alisand
Barry Leitch - Lotus Turbo Challenge II
Grant Miller - California Train
Jimmy & Susy - Come Back
Savage - A Love Again
Rose - Magic Carillon
Esavu - Sia Siou (Breaking Up)

Download (61.2 MB)


Anonymous said...

Maybe you'll want to place a facebook button to your site. Just bookmarked the article, although I must do this manually. Simply my $.02 :)

Eleanor said...

Hey! Thanks for your feedback!

Blogger's given me a little bit of grief in respect of the "Share" button for each respective post. The buttons won't show up and I suspect I will need to reformat the whole blog.

Instead, I've put a Share C&CM button for Twitter and Facebook in the right hand column for all your sharing needs! I hope this will suffice!

Don said...

Just stopped by to say that I'm anxiously awaiting your next post. Hop life is treating you OK.

I also had trouble getting the Share button to show up. The Facebook and FBCDN javascripts were being blocked by NoScript in Firefox. Once I allowed them, the button shows up.

Then I turned them off again. I don't run Facebook code on my machine but people visiting my site are welcome to.

Eleanor said...

Thanks again for your encouragement, Don! Been a little snowed under, but I'm making the new episode as I type, hopefully it should be up in the next few hours! Fingers crossed they'll be out with a bit more consistency from now on.

I'll have to see if the script works on another computer! Who knows what the blog could look like!

George Hysteric said...

"Magic Carillon" is a classic!
The video is amazing too:

btw was nice to meet you at Automation on Saturday night, hope you enjoyed the music.

For my Top 100 alltime Italo-disco records you can check:


Eleanor said...

George Hysteric! Such a great pleasure to meet you too, I've been listening to your mixes and enjoying them so much!

I am absolutely SHOCKED to realise that that Discogs Top 100 List is yours! I've been going through that very list and listening to every song for at least a week now, maybe even two! I adore Hysterical Fit, Sue Sadlow and 93rd Superbowl, but that goes without saying really. Everyone needs to love Forever and a Day.

Your night got me onto Clio's Eyes and I haven't been able to stop playing it since!

Oh yes and agreed, Rose looks incredible in that clip. What I would do to make it onto that dancefloor.

Anyway, my email is elle.gray (at) Keep in touch about upcoming events, I'd love to come along!

El x