In a Childhood Far Far Away
This blog has been on an enforced hiatus due to work and study demands, however the recent unearthing of a 40-odd year old notebook deserves my attention, and perhaps needs to be displayed in the V&A immediately.
In 1977 having seen Star Wars at the cinema in Cannock with my Dad, I became an instant 11 year old fan. The perfect age for this genuinely ground-breaking film (I’m not even going to talk about anything released as part of this cinematic universe post-1983), I became a sucker for any Star Wars related merchandise tat. Hence purchasing with my pocket money Chewbacca’s Space Notes, a 56 page blank pocket book that could contain all my important thoughts, philosophies, and weighty considerations that a prepubescent boy growing up in the West Midlands could offer the world.
However, it has to be asked, out of all the characters from Star Wars, why was Chewbacca deemed the one to write down ‘space notes’? All he seemed to do was growl a lot and there is nothing in the 1978 seminal documentary about Wookie culture, the Star Wars Holiday Special, that offers any indication that Chewbacca was prone to pouring his inner-most feelings about Han Solo down on paper.
So what did I use the book for? It’s a notebook of two halves – music and football. Clearly both my passions at the time. Although whilst people who remember me from then will state that my attire seemed to permanently consist of an Aston Villa tracksuit, there is nothing in this book about watching TV, eating Monster Munch and doing Airfix models of historical figures. These I seem to recollect as being my favourite pastimes.
The music section starts off with a drawing of Gerry Cott, guitarist with my favourite band The Boomtown Rats. He wore sunglasses all the time, which obviously made him look cool and also slightly easier to draw.
It’s an ‘interesting’ start to the music section, but now we hit the real rock ‘n’ roll stuff with six pages of drawings of record labels. Basically, I’m profiling the suits. They’re quite well drawn (probably traced), but still.
I then list my Top Ten groups, which were …
1. The Boomtown Rats
2. The Jam
3. Sham 69
4. Darts (under-rated if you ask me)
5. The Stranglers
6. The Rezillos
7. Siouxsie and the Banshees
8. John Otway
9. Alberto Y Los Trios Paranoius (sic)
10. Rainbow
Some really strong punk choices there from this 11 year bedroom pogo-ing rebel. Weird to think I was to later book John Otway for the Theatre Royal and spend an evening drinking with him. Also proud that my penchant for bizarre groups was manifesting itself at such an early age. Alberto Y Los Trios Paranoias had a one-off hit with Heads Down No Nonsense Mindless Boogie and so in my brain instantly became ONE OF THE GREATEST BANDS IN THE WORLD. [1]
I have absolutely no idea what Rainbow are doing there.
Then in my bestest hand-writing I have written down the entire lyrics to Rat Trap by the Boomtown Rats and Hong Kong Garden by Siouxsie and the Banshees. I obviously copied them from Smash Hits, but I make sure at the end I state who wrote the words and music (protecting artists’ rights even then), as well as writing ‘Reproduced by kind permission of Chappell and Company Limited’. Here’s a secret, I hadn’t got permission at all. Please sue me.
The music section now fizzles out, with me listing albums and singles of The Boomtown Rats, The Rezillos and The Stranglers, and the band members of The Jam. Not too strenuous, as there were only three of them.
And I wonder why I never became the next Nick Kent or Paul Morley, writing florid prose for the NME. I think my work here reflects a need to list and catalogue, rather than try and live a punk experience. But then I was only 11.
The football section is simply pictures I cut-out from Shoot!, as well as some Panini stickers listing goalkeepers, defenders, forwards etc. There are classic names there, including Ray Clemence, Emlyn Hughes, Liam Brady to name just a few. However, there is a predominance of names from my beloved Aston Villa, although why I chose a picture of Andy Gray with a large dog and a 70s sideboard is beyond me.
Then there are pictures of various managers (including a separate list of Scottish ones), and pictures of team squads. All attached with yellowing and peeling ancient strips of Sellotape.
I’ve loved looking at this little notebook again, for whilst I have no connection with many of the things in it (mainly the football section), it is still me. After countless house moves and changes in life, I’m also amazed that I still possess it. Still wanting to cling on to some aspect of my childhood?
Anyway, my son will inherit it one day and it will become a valuable family heirloom (yeah, right). I’m off to listen to Rainbow and try and work out what on earth I was thinking.
[1] A genuine contender for one of the best ever song lyrics, with “I ain’t got no time for intellectual music, e.g. Hergest Ridge”
