13 was optimal timing for my angst-ridden indie years. Confirmed by my entire immediate and extended family I was a complete brat as tween. I felt gravely misunderstood and trapped by lack of funds and/or chauffeur. No one understood my pain. I spent the majority of time writing meaningless poetry vaguely sounding as though I’d swallowed a thesaurus, or at my best friend's house convinced the 4 hour analysis of our ‘love lives’ were the most earth shattering revelations of human history.
I made a natural progression from The Kooks to The Arctic Monkeys, to the Fratellis all seemingly incredibly ‘underground’ since they didn't chart in America. This was also the point I thought I discovered the late 1970s- early 1980s, blasting Blondie Heart of Glass, Cars by Gary Numan and Take on me A-ha as my new ‘discoveries’. I was horrified when my Mum told me I was 25 years too late for that band wagon.
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| Agh, Singing Star memories... |
With iTunes at my finger tips I was desperate to show-case the current most obscure songs trying to persuade everyone of my superior taste. Again the music quality varied considerably. My playlist could feature the current hit Madonna Hung up, followed by Verve Bittersweet Symphony interspersed with Gwen Stefani and then concluding with the Jingle Cats and Dogs (DO NOT BOTHER).
I still borrowed heavily from the charts although to distinguish myself I searched the British top 40 rather than mainstream America. What a hipster. It was time for move both musically and geographically. We were off to Tulsa Oklahoma, home of Bill Hader, Chandler Bing’s office and a truly disgusting section of the Arkansas river.
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| I JUST MET THIS 5'7 GUY WHO"S JUST MY TYPE |
Upon arriving to high school I soon found my American counterparts lived the 106.9 k-hits life. I largely abandoned the hipster path and settled on the radio and pure british top 10 including Estelle American Boy, Cry For you September, Coldplay Viva la Vida, La Roux In for the Kill and Duffy’s Mercy. I had no favorites and flitted from one artist to the next claiming that albums were out and singles were in.
This ideology soon crumbled as the chart didn't seem to change in Tulsa for 6 months and DJs played the same 5 songs on repeat FOR HOURS. I decided my parents might have taste after all and decided to rifle through their impressive CD collection. Eagerly I made out way through, Smash Mouth’s classic album entitled Smash Mouth, the Love Actually soundtrack, the Batman Forever soundtrack (feat. covers of Iggy Pop, U2 and Seal Kiss from a Rose), Jason Mraz Waiting for my Rocket to Come and in my desperate moments KT Tunstall.
Worse was on the horizon. Due to the ridiculously long American summer holidays I needed time fillers. I was too young to be hired so established a schedule centering around re-runs of Drake and Josh and Sonny with a Chance. I predictably fell madly in love with Drake Bell and purchased all his Nickelodeon singles and his hopelessly failing solo album. Listening back, It’s Only Time has the most odd mishmash of genres and worst lyrics of any album I’ve ever owned.
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| Only on Nickelodeon though |
That didn’t stop me from playing it on repeat and tragically for them my family can now recite all the lyrics too. The only music from this period I can look back on without shame was the discovery of Amy Winehouse Back to Black album and The Beatles 1 album both unearthed in my local library.
Stay tuned for Part 3 where I finally ditched Disney channel.
