Ok so I’ve started; we’re off. It struck me that I ought to set a couple of things straight at the outset. Relatively speaking, for a world of ‘digital natives’, whatever they are, I’m quite mature. My posts are therefore likely to be mid-century – in the best possible way – I hope. This blog won’t be the place to find cutting edge comment on the latest music releases etc. Try BBC 6 Music, Monocle or something I’ve not heard of if that’s what you’re seeking. Go on – that’s what youth is for – go and discover things so you can write blogs when you’re grey at the temples!
Here there’ll be lots of the things I love or have loved and which have helped shape me and continue to influence my world view. I grew up in the 1970s for goodness sake. Yep. I was really there. My Dad worked shifts, then the three day week, before successive redundancies. My Mum entered the white collar workforce of a post-manufacturing Britain. We had a Cold War, GDR Olympic Golds, Olga Corbett, Harvey Smith, Billie Jean King, bin strikes, power cuts, glorious scandals and in my formative years at the end of the decade, the country elected its first female Prime Minister. As 2017 unfolds there will be greater parallels.
So just a heads up that my musings don’t attempt or pretend to sit at the cutting edge of 21st century thought. They might though bring a certain (albeit personal) perspective. I promise to avoid nostalgia. Lest we forget, the 1970s and early 80s were really quite crap in many ways. The grinding harshness of 70s poverty, industrial disputes, terrorism, sieges, conflict and political scandal was, mercifully, lifted by a great soundtrack, many creative and cultural firsts (Bowie, Bolan, Mercury, Lydon, et al), platform shoes, metallic eye shadow and the creative appropriation of safety pins.
We’re not far away from those days if we look at our current context, but of course as far as I’m concerned we had better music and clothes. If you really want to visit those days Hanif Kureshi’s Buddha of Suburbia is still an excellent and instant way in. I recently watched it again with my husband who exclaimed ‘no wonder you turned out like this’.
There we are then. You have been warned.