Day 57. I dream of wires. (26/2/19)

(Soundtrack: It's all about the soundtrack. I'm writing this because of the soundtrack. I've been working on Silver Meadows. The songs on repeat. Every song playing on individual repeat as I work on the piece of script nearest to it. And in the gap between songs, before clicking back to the start of the previous track, I hear 6 Music. It's been on all day, it's the day they announced that the 6 Must festival in March will be from Liverpool. Which is great. Admittedly there's very little I want to see but that's okay, loads of other people will want to see loads of what's on. And I really do fancy catching Julian Cope in conversation with Mark Radcliffe. That's my kind of day out.

And the music has been great all day. Lauren Laverne's show this morning was one of the best she's done since moving to breakfast. In fairness, her show since moving to breakfast hasn't been for me; too much dance, too much hip hop, too many keyboard washes. All a bit bland. I miss Shaun Keaveny. I miss sarcasm and a dolorous tone. I'm missing him right now, as Huw Stephens is in for him. And he was playing something brilliant a short while ago.

Lauren Laverne though. Two great shows so far. Valentine's Day and today. Valentine's Day's music was all chosen by listeners. Today involved some Liverpool stuff. Some bias from me there.

Notably, the three best tracks played on the show were, in reverse chronological order, 36 years old, 39 years old and 51 years old: The Bunnymen's 'Cutter', Talking Heads' 'Houses in Motion' and The Beatles' 'Hey Bulldog'. This is the genius of The Beatles: their lesser know numbers are better than most bands' careers.

Anyway. There was a gap and in that gap I heard Gary Numan's 'We Are Glass')

It's May 1980. James Winrow lives two doors down from ours and James plays keyboards. Has a piano in the living room, owns (at some point then or slightly later) a Moog (which, if memory serves, was bought from somebody who claimed to have played it on the first Wah! album. Which would make it later.)

He's a massive Numan fan. I'm on the edge of stopping being a fan and moving further to guitars. Telekon is out. Telekon contains We Are Glass. We Are Glass may have the muddiest production of any record ever made. I'm playing it now through a good amp and good speakers. It sounded better in the distance on a mono speaker DAB radio. Not sure how that works.

He's a keyboard player. I haven't bought a proper guitar yet but I know I'm going to be in a band. So we write a song. That gets played once. Stealing from The Bunnymen's 'Pictures on My Wall' and Depeche Mode's 'Dreaming of Me', it's called 'Pictures of Me' and has the memorable chorus line 'Pictures of Me hang upon your wall.' James was responsible for the music, he can take no blame for that lyric. At all.

I'm the singer. Except I can't sing. There isn't a second rehearsal/songwriting session/song. We have that one, Numan-esque moment. Unheard by anybody else at any point in the last 39 years.

I never buy Telekon. I buy the Living Ornaments live album box set. I lend it to a mate in 82. I never get round to getting it back. File it next to the copy of One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest I lent to a girl I worked with in Kwik Save the same year and never saw again.

Slightly earlier though:

I get Gary Numan's The Pleasure Principle for Xmas 79. It's part of the soundtrack to the beginning of the year. I remember staying over the night at my nan and grandad's in Westhead, near Ormskirk. The soundtrack to that memory is The Pleasure Principle though I doubt I had it with me. And the Walkman doesn't exist yet. The book I'm reading is Dune by Frank Herbert. Get Carter is on the TV at some point. I remember nothing else about the night but those things are vivid.

Music. It does this. One half heard song and you're a lifetime away. Good, isn't it?