countertext wrote: ↑Mon Mar 18, 2019 10:44 pm
Rick Springfield
Growing up in grim patterned carpet 1970's Scotland in a house with life size tapestys of the pope, my musical path was forged more by what I didn't like (everything I saw in the family home and in other homes), than what I liked and therefore I was almost thankful for all the shit I was exposed to which made me desperately look elsewhere.
It was all also most non visual, just record sleeves if I was lucky and sounds on the radio, since my dad wouldn't let us watch anything on the TV.
I remember going to see our relatives in Canada in the late 70's, they were unaware punk had happened, bar some comedy sketches, let alone anything I liked, considered disco to be fags music and were deep in their Rick Springfield and Styx period which meant I could barely stand being in the same country as them. I think it was one of the times I decided that guitars were most often in the wrong hands.
However I think I decided I wanted a guitar while my sister was watching
Animal Kwackers, not in a positive way but I think purely to keep it out of the hands of one of the Kwacker cunts (though I probably called them diddies) and in deep resentment that the TV people decided that this was the sort of thing to show in the short hour before my dad got home and took control of the TV. The Kwackers also left me with a lifelong disinterest in the Beatles and a desire to run as fast as I can away from the worlds many Beatle bores.
It's wasn't until
Matthew Ashman's Falcon that I think I saw a guitar I really wanted (but had heehaw hane of owning), prior to this all my pennies were spent on records and I really just dreamt of having 'a' guitar or 'a' anything while my parents were too poor, too holy, too repressed, too fogey and too uninterested to buy me a guitar of any sort or anything I actually wanted if the truth be told.
Gravel...all I had to eat was gravel.
D