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mbv 2

Further thoughts following up the original review/appreciaton: ‘mbv: A Remastered Review’ piece (

What started as an attempt to be quick to respond to an unprecedented new album release ended up turning into a kind of ‘m b v’ journal. It also got confused by an intervention from real life that made me concentrate on something other than music for a week. I have tried to edit these ramblings. I don’t know how successful I have been. Dates and references may be all over the place. Beware repetition and mixed connectives. I’ve kept the production values hazy to retain an overall effect, don’t you know.

So I didn’t spend Saturday afternoon (February 2nd) and evening eagerly trying to be among the first people to get the new My Bloody Valentine album, listen to it twice and quickly post a review thus the massive outpouring of blogging that went on. The reviews are now appearing (February 5th) but no reviewer has had more than 3 days to get their head around the album. There were clearly no advance copies. You might as well buy it and do it yourself. You may even have an insight into the idea that maybe music journalists regularly knock something off during lunch rather than listen to a review copy over a week to get familiar with it. Is it any good? It’s a late 90s MBV album, what do you want exactly? If you are interested, if you already own ‘Loveless’ or more, then you are bound to like it. It’s that simple. Does it break new ground? Maybe it did but it doesn’t really break much now. How could a groundbreaking album even be humanly possible? Someone is supposed to have recorded consistently groundbreaking music over 5 years and then kept it in the vault for 15 and none of those ideas have since been developed, done to death or even started to sound dated. Impossible unless you believe Kevin Shields to be some sort of actual prophet.

However, some of the critical reception seems to suggest that this is an even more perfect album than ‘Loveless’. Now, it seems obvious to me that Loveless was far from perfect, ‘Soon’ already sounded dated when preceded by the rest of the album. It was recorded 18 months before, imagine 18 years… ‘Loveless’ is a seminal album but at the time it was one of many that came out in 1991. Nirvana were the biggest name in alternative music when ‘Loveless’ came out and would remain so in its wake. Shoegazing bands who borrowed heavily from My Bloody Valentine’s sound had vanished as a going concern by the mid-1990s when this ‘new’ album should have come out. Only Spiritualized really survived only to later become a tad predictable and Stereolab either took the scene forwards or backwards depending on your opinion, or the Stereolab album for that matter. We may joke about Ride going on to become a source of a new Bonehead in Oasis, but Shields was an extra in Primal Scream too. A lot of the reviews of ‘m b v’ seem to forget the context it would have had if it appeared way back when.

Of course, another reason to not take the announcements of an imminent release seriously was that there has been plenty of form in that department. Sudden announcements have been made before and turned out to be inaccurate. How do poorly remastered reissues result in a delay of over a year? The new album was supposed to be delivered before the end of 2012. Why am I going to waste Saturday waiting around for another rumour to play out false regardless of who starts it? Clearly plenty of people did. It is as if the sudden December announcement left fans almost feeling spoiled for choice after so little material for so many years and then this reaction ‘inadvertently’ created a massive blog hype machine of people checking daily for a new ‘m b v’ album like Marquez’s colonel waiting for his pension or J.R. Hartley tracking down a copy of ‘Fly Fishing’. Did New Order fans do this once ‘Lost Sirens’ became delayed? More on New Order to come. (Probably too much on New Order so that the point becomes laboured. The point is also weakened as ‘Lost Sirens’ is so dull, that I still can’t be bothered listening to it again for this piece…and still can’t now as I edit this for a second time.) Does this instead reveal something about MBV fans of the past 20-odd years? We are either still pissing around waiting for alternative albums to appear rather than mowing lawns or frantically barbecuing or our lawns and barbecues become instantly tedious when compared with a new album from a band from another era. Either way, we may have failed or missed a few boats somewhere along the line. Let’s start trying to pull ourselves together.

Indeed (no idea what this ‘indeed’ follows but I like it’s tone so it stays), on Saturday itself, the website crashed, trying to pay without Paypal was still proving impossible on Sunday afternoon in my case. However, after a break for a late lunch, I got myself an incorrectly registered Paypal account  (I still have to get back to them to sort out my account which is currently registered as being in both Shropshire and Chiapas for some reason) and downloaded the album fairly easily despite iTunes attempting to create two albums, the first of which just contained the opening track. By 7pm Sunday, I was using ‘m b v’ to soundtrack my Superbowl experience. I had spent an hour or more attempting to achieve this and it had cost me over a tenner, had they just stuck the album on iTunes I would have merely had to pay £6 at Mexican prices (actually 4 if a recent 3 for 2 offer on gift cards is factored in). Can’t quite see how we are supposed to be behind the self-releasing and publishing revolution on those figures. The sound is also poorer than my usual iTunes downloads and needs a boost of a good 20% to get the full effect on headphones much like an old Northern Soul collection. This could be deliberate as those old albums tend to be viewed with much more affection than an artificially loud recording that lacks both depth and substance. Oasis were guilty of this in the past and history shows the lack of depth it masks. However, this quiet album might have been drowned out by the tedious bombast of Britpop had it appeared in the second half of the 90s. The quality of sound and price of ‘Lost Sirens’ is better but this is like a teacher praising a child for an immaculately produced but ultimately vacuous essay.

The delays, the hold ups, the mistakes, the general fannying around and the cost had seriously irritated me before I began my listening experience. That may be why I was ready to bathe in backlash. I was wrong but also notice that the backlash seems to be disappearing as the week develops and reviewers have actually had time to listen to the album PROPERLY and reflect on something special rather than just vent their frustrations as I would have done on Sunday. However, Monday morning felt good with a new My Bloody Valentine album to enjoy afresh and which sounded so familiar as to be comfortable. It is a form of nostalgia, albeit a nostalgia for something that sounded like nothing else at the time of its release.

Did I give ‘Loveless’ the same attention? At the time I seem to recall being more of a Nirvana and Galliano fan. Yes, that is quite the combination. Good job I didn’t start a clothesline pushing lumberjack corduroy. ‘Loveless’ almost seem to deliberately arrive at a time when it would not attract too much initial excitement compared to what would ultimately grow afterwards. It’s reception and reviews of the new album do suggest a lot of people, experts even, only becoming fans long after the initial release. With ‘m b v’ the group have successfully created the exact opposite effect. I imagine that this will lead to ‘m b v: 1 year on’ articles arriving in Stereogum in about 11 months.

Too many reviews and reactions, more depth. (That note was written some time after reading through endless reviews)
This still seems to be something of an issue despite attempts at improving the responses after initial reviews had been rushed out. Time may be the enemy of the blogger but it is necessary for truly great music to take hold. I suggest we might just like to revel in that indestructible fact rather than frantically aim to disprove it by comparing ‘m b v’ to ‘Finnegans Wake’ just because Shields and Joyce are Irish and took years to follow up on their most fondly remembered work. ‘Finnegans Wake’ is a nightmare for any reader to deal with and may only work properly if read out loud with the emphasis in all the right places for the phonetic jokes to work. That is clearly very different to ‘M b v’ which may even be more accessible than ‘Loveless’. FW is more like Terrence Trent D’Arby’s 2nd album or ‘The Second Coming’ but with more depth.

Why didn’t people react this way to ‘Lost Sirens’? I guess that’s the true value in not keeping a legacy going when uninspired. Essentially, that seems to be what Kevin Shields has done since 1994/5-ish when the rough demos for this album must surely have been recorded but left far from completion. Does ‘m b v’ sound dated? Yes, of course. The most substantial aspects of its recording  are at least 18-years-old. It does not sound as dated as ‘Lost Sirens’ which must have been recorded about 10 years later (I swear it only gets one more reference. They should have called it ‘n o’ for convenience). However, there are clues that suggest the album is from the vaults rather than a new idea or a reflection of where Shields is at in 2012. The Primal Scream remix (‘If They Move, Kill ‘Em’) sounds more modern than the first 6 tracks and they must surely pre-date it. Afterwards comes ‘Wonder 2’, the 2 tracks prior to it could be contemporaries of the Scream mix but ‘Wonder 2’ seems like the next step – which makes this album a summary of My Bloody Valentine 1992-1998.

That makes it hard to dislike. That makes it exceptional, like if The Beatles anthology series had turned up an entire album of unreleased tracks secretly recorded after the group had ceased to function and assuming they weren’t as dull as their solo work. Like the ‘Caribou Sessions’ bonus CD that you get with the Dennis Wilson ‘Pacific Ocean Blue’ reissue that did so well and inspired so much affection a few years back. Affection is the only reaction possible from fans from the original era. Later fans who picked up on the legacy cannot fail to be blown away by 9 new tracks which are not completely new and thus reveal weaknesses compared to current sonic experimentalists. Television or Big Star’s comeback albums and so many others did little to add to their legacy, more taint it. Would you want your favourite cult band to release more albums after they were close to the zeitgeist than when they were it? Just ask Mission of Burma or Dinosaur Jr. fans, it’s a false economy. The new cannot be better than the old when there has been such a gap in development. In that way, this new album may promise more to follow now that a line can finally be drawn under the 1990s.

So is it any good then? (I have since decided that it definitely is.)

Initially I have to say I thought it quite bland. The muddy production and mastering don’t help. The sound quality on the mp3 means turning up the volume every time I listen to the album, which is a bit much if you have been listening to old My Bloody Valentine b-sides immediately before as happened later in the week. However, it is noticeably familiar from the very off. The album still hasn’t leaped out at me (after a day or two?) and still seems like it would have made for an excellent additional release in 2012 to draw a line under the 1990s. I initially view it as something like Can’s ‘Lost Tapes’ or even a good version of New Order’s ‘Lost Sirens’. ‘Loveless’ didn’t immediately grip me as ‘Nevermind’ did around the same time. I always felt that it was excellent but there was always room for improvement as ‘Soon’ seemed to spoil the end of the album as it sounded like it belonged elsewhere. ‘Isn’t Anything’, the ‘You made Me Realise’ EP and ‘Strawberry Wine’ were almost if not more enjoyable than ‘Loveless’ to my ears for a year or so. It was only later on in life that it became my go to MBV album above all others. I had also, presumably, stopped listening to Galliano by that point after being irritated by their appearance at Glastonbury 1994.

Then (not sure when) the listener starts reflecting.What would lost albums from other groups from this period sound like? Would they be any good whatsoever? Did anyone get excited by the lost Screaming Trees sessions that appeared a couple of years ago? Another issue to consider is whether this album would have been as well received then as it has been now? Oasis kind of blew subtlety out of the water in the second half of the 90s ands only Spiritualized seemed to come out of the shoegazing era relatively unharmed. (I know, I know, I said it already.)

A similar joy to ‘m b v’ can be found on the second Bark Psychosis album, ‘Codename: Dustsucker’ which appeared 10 years after their debut but didn’t create quite the same buzz. Err…that’s it on Bark Psychosis I guess, but both their albums are worth seeking out – especially if you find them in a clearance sale in El Salvador for about a fiver for the pair as I did.

Those last 3 tracks…I may have already covered all of this in my previous review.
‘Nothing Is’ is excellent in its relentless de-tuned glory. An excellent build towards the most talked about track, ‘Wonder 2’ which someone summed up simply as “relentless helicopters”, I forget who or where but can always credit it if someone tells me. It is a brilliant two-word review though. After hearing ‘Wonder 2’ a few times on e realises that it is the most developed sound in terms of progression but perhaps not the album track that you will return to repeatedly. That honour seems to fall to ‘In Another Way’ which does all the shimmery stuff in the right way and would make for great headphones in the bath listening. To some extent it is comfort food but it also hunts around and finds the uplifting melody that transports the listener that none of the first 6 tracks quite manage to do. This is the track that you will whistle or smile while listening to, much to the disbelief of the passing pedestrian – these are MBV melodies after all.

‘Isn’t Anything’ was my MBV album, complete with the introduction of fairly nondescript titles. The ‘You Made Me Realise’ EP lifted MBV to the status of fabled band for me and therefore I found ‘Loveless’ a little disappointing when it first appeared. The muddy production can’t have helped. The preceding EP suggested something odd and then the album returned to more familiar territory in a number of cases. ‘Strawberry Wine’ really needs to be properly reissued though it may not suit Shields’ tastes, it was a beautiful piece when it arrived, much more so than the scrappy yet exploratory ‘Ecstasy’ mini-LP. Prior to that, ‘This is My Bloody Valentine’ was weak, but single tracks like ‘Sunny Sundae Smile’ and ‘Lovely Sweet Darlene’ are not that far removed from future MBV sounds if only a little more cute and Sarah Records in style. One thing is clear, from 1988 onwards, MBV were always near the top of my lists of favourite artists even if I might not have realised this during their late 90s. The feelings inspired by ‘m b v’ tell me that if nothing else.

Can this album create a legacy like ‘Loveless’ managed to do? It shouldn’t. In 22 years, there should by now be plenty other superior albums which explore, remind and uplift in the same way without arriving way after the event. It has been incredibly well received. It probably averages higher review scores than ‘Loveless’ managed but would any of those reviewers dare go a step further and claim it to be a better album? A more perfect sound? Forever? Still, it beats listening to Hot Chip discussing Hall & Oates in interviews. ‘Wonder 2’ or ‘Maneater’? It’s not a difficult choice as to which will inspire the better music in the future if not the least derogatory. Blah, blah, blah etc.



Music of a More Innocent Time (197?-1982)

In reality there were plenty of innocent times to come but this entry seems to stem from a pre-aware time where cool did not matter and neither did a genre. There may be some overlap with other eras and a similarly bland period also arose in-between metal and indie and , arguably, the Britpop era lacked that aloof quality although I did pollute that ‘music for the people’ time with numerous obscure drum and bass 12”s among other oddities.

This is an attempt to try and look at the earliest musical influences on my soul. Some were purchased by others, a couple by myself but others were from television and many of those examples remain forgotten. I can remember the silver jubilee of 1977 but punk was a long way from my consciousness at that time. Pretty sure all these memories come from my primary school years though I’m not sure that that’s really an influence. It may even be that these memories stop long before my final year in primary as I am pretty sure that my heavy metal years had started by then as suggested by my light blue body warmer to which was attached a Deep Purple, Gillan and Saxon patch – 3 for 1, bargain!

The earliest remembered record is ‘Remember You’re A Womble’. It’s hard to say when this was bought as at its chart peak in May 1974 I was not yet 2. There was something about the chorus that made myself and a friend wait outside the lounge at Rose Cottage before we burst in when it reached a crescendo – I say burst in and yet that sounds too anarchic. My mother would have been there and so bursting consisted of merely waving hands and jerking about a bit without the possibility of any devastating minor ornament damage. However, these memories surely didn’t occur in 1974 and so my earliest musical memory is already a back catalogue affair, bursting or otherwise. As an aside, had my mother or father selected a different single from the time that ‘RYAW’ was at its chart peak of 3, they could have come home with ‘Waterloo’ (number 1), some Stevie Wonder or even Bowie’s ‘Rock nRoll Suicide’ – but the latter especially would have been rather unthinkable. Also new on the chart that week at 34 was my favourite Motown single, R.Dean Taylor’s ‘There’s a Ghost in my House’ but I’m pretty sure that my parents weren’t really into the Northern Soul scene. The song later peaked at number 3 in June thus equalling the Wombles’ achievement, something that our R. no doubt aspired to when he started out as a performer if not before. It can also be noted at this point that The Wombles must also be the first example of my liking for artists with an abundance of hair.

I guess most early exposure to remembered music would have come from childrens tv. I don’t wish to get too deeply into 70s nostalgia here but will just briefly mention a couple of notables here. A foretaste of later desires for fuzzy and generally flanged guitars in the name of various genres and sub-genres from garage punk to shoegazing probably stemmed from the Roobarb and Custard theme which also somehow verges on children’s blues once the harmonica kicks in. But, come on, does it really ‘kick in’? Hmm…  It turns out that the show was always called ‘Roobarb’ and only managed one series in that seemingly vital year of 1974. Again, I’m sure I’m dealing with repeats here. Also, my later jazz and acid jazz tendencies were preceded by a love of the original Tomorrow’s World theme music by John Dankworth – a Brit jazz journeyman and husband to Cleo Laine. The opening titles of the programme varied a lot but I do recall being fascinated by the idea that the yolk of eggs in the future might be fried into the shape of an ‘l’. Oh, one more, ‘The Flashing Blade’ – I could even remember some of the lyrics to this and it always seemed to be on television in the mornings for school holidays. It is of course a pop-sike classic from 1967 despite being French and was called ‘Fight’ by The Muskateers. It might have been a late 60s hit if it had been about peace instead of being about honourable fighting – again, despite being French. Similar shows include other future pop references as a mad person from southern England once taped me the theme for ‘White Horse’ and another show was of course Belle And Sebastian.

Essentially, from here one could disappear into a nostalgia trip coated in brown and peppered with references to Spangles and Vimto but that’s not the aim. Instead, I aim to understand a bit more about myself and my relationship with my parents through this writing and so, as one gets a mention, perhaps some background is wise. My mother’s favourite word might be ‘moderation’ or ‘sufficient’. Music was something religious to her or it might have involved The New Seekers. Harry Secombe was also part of this seemingly alliterative experiment but sadly not Eek-a-Mouse and happily not Deacon Blue – though I think she thought that Raintown was nice many years later. It’s rather disturbing that I managed to cross paths with that album – I blame my Prefab Sprout obsession for that.

Where was I, ah… mother would sing along with Songs of Praise along with her mother and I wouldn’t. Though encouraged to sing and go to church, it never really took hold – much like ecstasy didn’t properly grip me in the early 90s. I think the idea of owning more than 5 records may have been some kind of sin in her eyes, much like the sin of making too much noise – something which the best music is prone to do. Occasionally, there are snatches of a musical consciousness beyond light classical that emerge, a recent observation she shared with my wife that I was singing ‘Build me up Buttercup’ and the frankly turgid cover versions of Eva Cassidy.

Anyway, my mother may have been behind my godmother’s purchase of a single for me at some point in 1977. My godmother can never really think beyond Marks and Spencers in terms of presents and so occasionally needs a push to get something that the receiver might actually like. This once led to the wonderful gift of a Gabriel Garcia Marquez novella being offset against the hilarity of her enquiring after ‘Memories of my Melancholy Whores’ at a local bookshop which is surely right up there with my mum asking for N*****s with Attitude in Woolworths.

Curiously, this single seems to have stuck in my memory as my first single. Worryingly, this suggests that either my mum, dad or nan owned the Wombles single. I suspect dad here. So, what epic slice of seminal genius has stuck in my memory as my first ever owned 7”??? Mull of Fucking Kintyre…Mull of fucking Kintyre. Christ I hate that record. Tediously nice, number one for ever during the punk era and even featuring one of my most hated instruments. Do I have to mention it or should I say them? No, I can’t. All I can say in my defence, is that I recognised that the b-side was not as bad but wasn’t exactly wonderful either. What this also demonstrates is that, in 1977, I clearly didn’t like music at all. Further evidence of this might be provided by my mysterious ownership of the ‘We’ll Take More Care of You’ flexidisc from British Airways adverts. You received it along with a badge by joining some aeroplane geek club but the most important aspect of it is that the flexidisc itself would become a format so frustratingly impossible for most, that I of course had to love them in the late 80s as they were usually filled with the music of tweeness and often made by Shalala which would later morph into Sarah Records or a pre-Caff records flexi which was released by Bob Stanley of St. Etienne.

More background? My dad liked calypso and boogie woogie. This paints rather an interesting portrait of him which is at once both ridiculously untrue and grossly inaccurate or maybe that’s synonomy right there. He could also memorise song lyrics, but only if they were disgusting rugby songs which caused him and remarkably few others to laugh loudly. He claimed to have the original 78 of the test match theme but may have been confused here as Booker T and the MGs didn’t make 78s in as much as my father would never have bought an album on Stax. He also remembered hearing Elvis doing ‘Hound Dog’ when he went for his first curry in the first Indian restaurant in Oxford. My dad, not Elvis. Did Elvis like curry?

Dad and music are a very hazy memory at Rose Cottage. I seem to recall a Christmas Top of the Pops broken up by another row over something trivial between the two of them and so I focused intently on playing Connect 4 on my own and whistling along to Peter Gabriel’s ‘Games Without Frontiers’ and somehow feeling jealousy towards the children in the video who got to dress up and eat a big turkey whilst Gabriel lurked around them. If my parents had been there, they would have been in tears and Gabriel would have walked off – so every cloud and all that. The single was around in early 1980 and yet my wonderfully warm Xmas TOTP memory makes me 8 when this happened. This must have been the second Christmas after dad moved out. The first one would have been less grim and more memorable if either parent had invested in the recently released ‘London Calling’, but there was never much of a chance of that happening.

My dad also introduced censorship into my musical world. He banned me from watching ‘Y.M.C.A.’ on Top of the Pops when it was number 1 (early 1979…but it had been around for a while already) as it was considered “both cheeky and disrespectful”. I wonder if it was the gay thing? I’m not sure that he would have picked up on that entirely. I think he probably hated Rod Stewart more. Thankfully, the ban didn’t have the usual reverse effect that these things have and I also think that he started to respect The Village People once they appeared to be a little ‘cheeky and disrespectful’ towards the navy in the follow up as he seemed to share their derision – especially towards submariners as it would later turn out. I have no idea what he thought of ‘Macho Man’ and I don’t really want to know if that was when he realised that there may be sexual issues going on below the surface. In the middle of all of this ‘Mary’s Boy child’ was also a hit for Christmas so it was a fairly confusing time for all. Funkadelic even scraped the top ten at this point in history with ‘One Nation Under a Groove’ but my father presumably didn’t get down just for the funk of it even if I later loved this tune despite preferring their earlier ‘druggy’ efforts when Ed Hazel was around . I seem to recall my father being more supportive of another big hit of the time even if he probably did not share the political views of its performers, Ian Dury and the Blockheads. I think he was keen on the concept of hitting people with sticks, rhythm sticks or otherwise. ‘Car 67’ was soon to become a top ten hit and possibly the only one whose performer’s London flat I have crashed in but that was much later.

Later in February 1979, The Bee Gees’ ‘Tragedy’ arrived in the charts and I vaguely remember singing a rude version of this at primary school but this is oddly mixed with memories of a girl called Sian presenting me with the lyrics of ‘Geno’ by Dexys’ Midnight Runners – which, of course, came out the following Spring – cut out of Smash Hits. She didn’t like them and moved to Swansea. She also liked Adrian Matthews, not me and was very, very blonde…translucent even though not albino. Either way, I lost the lyrics or ditched them because I agreed with her…or ditched them because I thought agreeing with women was the best way to get on with them, ‘even then’ you may wryly add.

What next?

The first single that I ever bought with money in a shop – actually, I think it was in Manchester airport bizarrely or at least on a day when I visited Manchester airport to look at some planes and the shop was nearby – is a slight improvement on one of McCartney’s experiments in reaching new nadirs, but may be a nadir for original fans of the artist in question. It was also pretty poor indeed and yet I had a curious reason for selecting it. Through hearing this song on the radio in the car in the morning, I had managed to design my own black country version of it. I am not from the black country…and neither is Steve Miller. Yes, The Steve Miller Band – Abracadabra was my first purchase. I thought it was hilarious to sing along in a black country accent and produced the following:

Eyebrow, eyebrow Kid-eye* Brow

I want to reach out and gribe yow.

* – clearly the first ever reference to Kid A and knicked by some lesser lyricist with a wonky eye.

It’s not bad for a just turned 10 year-old, but it’s not great. The b-side, ‘Never Say No’ also sometimes still creeps into my consciousness which is strange as I didn’t realise that until just now when I looked up what the b-side had been. What is going on here? Things could have been worse, ‘Happy Talk’ was at number one and my mum liked that even if the singer had been a punk once.

Another single followed at almost the same time – clearly the makings of my later binging on vinyl and cds…and downloads for that matter. The Beatles movie medley was a hodge podge of Beatles’ movie songs that at least got me into the b-side which is a far more lovely prospect – ‘You’ve got to Hide your Love Away’. One wonders if mum, put off by the brash American world of Steve Miller, had managed to push for this release. Or was I just able to remember to buy two records in a fortnight?

Anyway, what startles me is this jump from 1977 to 1982 in terms of record buying. I had not realised that there was such a large gap in my musical interest. Can it be explained by football? Was it something to do with the final and inevitable collapse of my parents’ marriage. To me there separation and eventual divorce was something natural as the idea of them wanting to be together seemed so profoundly unnatural and painful for anyone who had to share the same space as them.

Another pre-proper interest memory of 1982 is the phenomenal revelation that ‘Night Birds’ by Shakatak made me feel genuinely nauseous or possibly it was car sickness in hot weather. Either way, the idea of Night Birds by Shakatak still makes me feel a little sick in much the same way that mashed potato does.

Going back to conclusions because doing so doesn’t make sense (???). The music contained within this memory seems desperately uncool. Never mind things I might listen to today, it seems uncool for the time. This suggests that far from a hipster of my age, I really was just a kid from a small village with little idea that music would become the main thing in my life that I could not be without and certainly no sign that this would happen within 5 years of the end of this piece.