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Int. Bedroom. Evening.

Title card: January 1995. Ballybrack, Dublin. My Gaff.

Me 

(to sister, offscreen)

What’s this? I asked for a New Order album. This looks like the front of a metal container or something, doesn’t it? Is this the proper cover? Are you sure? Look at the order form? The list? Give it to me. Ok. Where is it? I see, it’s listed under FACT-150. Id that the category number.

(delighted with myself)

FACT means Factory Records!

(to sis)

But are you sure? There is no band name on the front or anywhere I can see. Let me have a look inside at the inner sleeve. Yeah.

(to mother, offscreen)

What’s that? I can’t hear you, I’m in my room! No, I don’t want dinner now! I can’t eat those feckin frozen chicken things! I told you before Mam. Right, well I will cook a pizza or something. Is there one left? Ok, I will have that, thanks.

Where was I? Fuck it, I will just put the thing on will I?

I peruse the inner sleeve of the record – which is mostly white save for tiny track listings in black –

(to sister)

Ah yeah, I can see the name of the songs on here. It must be them so.

I close my bedroom door, remove the record carefully from the sleeve, blow the dust off and place it gently on the dusty 70’s relic of a turntable and wait…the needle hits the groove, the drums kick in, followed by some heavy synths and then the inimitable Barney Sumner vocal stylings kick in…this feels a bit heavier, quite Eighties but a bit rockier than their other stuff. The second track ‘Weirdo’, all wiry guitars, Hooky bass, desperate, breathless, joyful rhythms and I’m gone. I take my school jumper off and start jumping around the room. We get to the chorus….

Fuck!

(sings)

Just like the ocean of the sea/just like the blood that burns in me/someone like you cannot be free/just like a lock without a key….

Someone banging. What the fuck? It’s me Mam banging the ceiling from downstairs. In mid musical ecstasy, i throw a strop and open my bedroom door.

Me

(shouts)

What!!!? It’s not that loud Mam! I will turn it down a bit. No, I don’t want those chicken yokes! I’m listening to my album! For gods sake, yes! I will turn it down! I’m havin the pizza! Yeah, the one in the freezer! Thanks!

I slam the door, turn the volume down a but not enough to kill the delirium of my musical awe. Onto the next track. And the next. Then ‘Bizarre Love Triangle’ and…

Me

I’m lost to the misery, to the love, the joy, the mystery. This is mine. And right now, right here I don’t feel so alone.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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