Friday evening, Saturday morning… it’s all the same for some of us, right?<\/p>\n
Anyhow, I received some feedback earlier this week about our musical feature here: Loyal Reader Keith expressed some dissatisfaction with the songs I’ve been choosing for Friday Evening Videos. He lamented the fact that, despite our long years of friendship, he’s never been able to drag me over to the dark side — his words, not mine — of post-New Wave\/alternative music.<\/p>\n
This is an old, old rivalry between us. The battle lines between rockers<\/i> and Wavers<\/i> were drawn by forces larger than ourselves way back in high school — maybe even middle school — and I picked my tribe very early. I was a rocker<\/i>. Not a metal head<\/i>, mind you — that’s a whole other kettle of guitar picks — but I always identified far more with the earthy, long-haired fellows in the leather and acid-washed jeans than the twee weirdos who played that bloodless synthesizer crap. At least, that’s how I thought of things back in the day.<\/p>\n
The irony, of course, is that most of my friends and girlfriends — including Keith and The<\/i> Girlfriend — were Wavers. The universe can be truly perverse at times.<\/p>\n
In any event, I’ve come in recent years to appreciate (or at least tolerate) a lot more alternative music than Keith probably realizes; hell, I took Anne to see Depeche Mode last year, the very epitome of everything I always disliked about New Wave synth bands, and I even had a reasonably good time. My mulleted 17-year-old self would be stunned to hear that, I’m sure. But the fact is, the label “alternative<\/a>” covers a pretty broad spectrum, and I started realizing at some point that it wasn’t all<\/i> bad, and that I’d actually liked a fair amount of it all along, even back in my militant teen years. Without realizing it, of course. I mean, they played The Cars on Rock 103, so that made them okay, right?<\/p>\n If I could trace this awakening to any one song or event, I think it would probably be learning a few years ago that Stuart Adamson, the lead singer of the band Big Country, had died in an apparent suicide. Not that I was ever a fan of Big Country back in the day; if I was aware of them at all in the ’80s — and I don’t think I was — I would’ve sneeringly dismissed them simply because the radio stations on which they were played were not my<\/i> stations, i.e., the rock<\/i> stations. But a funny thing happened as I was perusing the online tributes to Adamson: They all referenced Big Country’s hit single “In a Big Country,” and when, purely out of curiosity, I tracked down this song, it turned out that I liked it. I liked it a lot<\/i>. It wasn’t sung in that weirdly passionless style that so many British imports of the ’80s had, and which I’ve always found so off-putting. The orchestration was sweeping and dramatic, the chorus was catchy. And what was that? Was there a guitar<\/i> in there? I was, quite frankly, surprised by this song:<\/p>\n