The seventies were notable for a few trends in music and style that now leave me shaking my head in wonder at what we, as teenagers, must have looked like to the adults of the time.
Twindaddy’s asking for his 24th question which song we remember dancing to with our best friend.
Going to the dancing was a very mixed experience. Some places favoured punk rock and the patrons embraced that with weird and wild piercings and multi-coloured hairdo’s of high jagged proportions.
That wasn’t me.
A few venues catered more to glam rock. ‘Poseurs’ strutted their stuff with every imaginable make-up and clothes combo, hair sprayed into full flamboyancy or left to hang moodily over one eye. Guys too.
Not my thing.
If you wanted soul music you could have that in abundance too at dedicated clubs.
I never did.
Glitz and disco glamour pervaded many places and spangly jumpsuits weaved their work on the dance floor.
Never owned one.
In and around the streets of Glasgow – as so many other places – a veritable Hallowe’en parade of styles could be found wending their ways to rock, pop, mod, punk, glam fests, all sporting the look that best suited their musical tastes.
I just liked dancing. As did my best friend. Weekends were for dancing and we tried out various places before opting for ones that catered to eclectic musical tastes.
With this in mind we could be found dancing to heavy rock, pop, punk or whatever. So long as it had a good bass or drum beat we were on the floor.
As for our style. We favoured a more arty, hippy look – long flowing skirts or dresses to go with the long flowing hair. I cringe now at the scarves or love beads wound around our necks and the scent of patchouli oil still lingers in my olfactory memories.
Our dancing then quite often reflected that look and the song I can see us both letting go to is ‘Wuthering Heights’ by Kate Bush. All wild abandon. When questioned what we were on, our honest answer was Coke – as in Cola. We just didn’t seem to need any stimulants other than music and life.
My passport photo from that time reflected that look and I had to live with it for 10 years – long after I’d abandoned being a pretend hippy. Thank God, though, I hadn’t been a punk.
…..but I’ll be busy tomorrow. And I might miss my chance to play along with Steve’s Music Mix. You might not mind. But I do.
So here goes. Thursday’s the new Friday. But just for this week.
Here’s a reminder how it works:
Each week I will post 3 new questions so…
(1) Go to the music player of your choice and put it on shuffle
(2) Say the questions aloud and press play
(3) Use the song title as your answers
(4) NO CHEATING
Question 1 What I Should do….
Stuck In The Middle With You, Stealers Wheel
‘…clowns to the left of me….jokers to the right….I’m all over the place….please….trying to make sense of it all….don’t think I can take any more….stuck in the middle with you….started off with nothing….slap you on the back…I’ve got a feeling that something ain’t right….’
Well, it’s not as bad as that. But I do get perplexed. From time to time.
Take this week. Well, don’t take this week. It’s pretty much already been taken. And I’ve loved it. Off school. Lots of free time. Weather improved. Kids entertaining themselves. Me reading, writing, blogging. But I’ve taken in so much information one way and another I’m in a kind of spaced out, pass the joint sort of place. Almost euphoric but with a little of the munchies thrown in. Long time ago. But I remember. I also remember wanting to vomit when someone offered me a Mars Bar. Obviously wasn’t going to do the trick. Never mix alcohol with weed. Nor Mars Bars. I, at least, had the sense to decline and thus prevent major embarrassment to myself. Although, I suppose that could be debated. Anyway, back to point. If there was one.
Yes, I do get perplexed. And the more I read and see and observe the worse it gets. Which is why sometimes I hide in the corners of rooms and rock. Nearly. And I was 12 when this came out! Heading to a corner now. 🙂
Question 2 What I Shouldn’t Do….
The Monkees, Daydream Believer
‘…I could hide ‘neath the wings of the bluebird as she sings….cheer up sleepy Jean….what can it mean to a daydream believer….a white knight on his steed…how happy I can be…good times start ….without dollar one to spend…how much do we really need…’
Yeah. A bit of a dreamer here. But I want my own wings to hide under. Then I won’t be dreaming.
Which kind of brings me back to hiding in corners or underneath wings and things. Isn’t escapism a wonderful thing? Now and again. But not too often because then we lose touch with reality. Except what is reality? Other than our own perceptions? See, anyone got some wings till I can grow my own?
Now when I was six I thought I could fly so this is quite apt ‘cos that was my age when this came out. I never wore any of those clothes but I’m pretty sure I recognise a few hair do’s/don’t’s in there. And maybe a dance or two. Btw, did you know Michael Naismith’s mum invented Tippex or Snow-pake or White-out or whatever you want to call it? Google it. I found that out quite by chance some time I can’t remember.
Question 3 What I Will Do….
On A Day Like Today, Keane
‘…I looked at you and I saw something in the way you stared into the sky…..sick and tired…wrong turns….love to tell you….but I ….could never seem to say the things I needed to….on a day like today no other words will do….I saw you…if you only knew….the way I feel….can never find the words….don’t know why…I don’t know why…’
Well, it’s not like me to be short of words. But I suppose there are the odd occasions. Like there’s no way to change someone. People need to change themselves. I know. Sounds obvious doesn’t it? But there’s no changing someone unless they’re at the point where they want to change. I’ve changed. More than once. But I was ready to do so. Fair enough, things had happened, people had said, I had noticed. But in the end, it came from inside me to want to make the change. Good or bad. We’re responsible for ourselves. So yes, sometimes there are times when I’m lost for words because nothing I say may change the heart or mind of someone else. And I think that’s probably true for us all. Gandhi was a smart cookie, wasn’t he?
“Go confidently in the direction of your dreams! Live the life you’ve imagined.” Thoreau?
‘…At least it said the words were Thoreau’s. But the attribution seemed a bit suspect. Thoreau, after all, was not known for his liberal use of exclamation points. When I got home, I looked up the passage (it’s from “Walden”): “I learned this, at least, by my experiment: that if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours.” ‘ http://www.nytimes.com/2011/08/30/opinion/falser-words-were-never-spoken.html?_r=0
Funny how we interpret things to suit ourselves. And lose the meaning. Or find it.
Happy weekend when it comes. 🙂
OK. Sheesh. It’s not Friday tomorrow. I was just testing. 😉
No, I’ve lost the plot. But that’s good news for me. I have a whole other day’s holiday. 🙂 See what happens when you’re not reminding kids what day of the week it is. x