That Boston moment

It doesn't seem that long ago since I used to wait anxiously for the next issue of Sounds and/or Melody Maker to come out. I would devour the lot, from headline stories through to the adverts for velvet loons. I dreamed of being the shape for such garments, inventing for myself a whole new biography which revolved around me effortlessly wearing cheesecloth tops and being regarded with awe by sixth-formers. Alas, twas never to be. Anyway, I have to admit to being a bit spottery when it came to music. I would pour over gate-fold sleeves, noting producers, third triangle players, studios, and so on. This was a bit unusual for a girl, I was told (but took no notice). It was partly strategy - when you aren't the floaty cheesecloth top wearer or instantly fanciable (Janis Ian, you know of what I speak) - you have to think of something to engage the chaps with (I'll have you know I was a founder member of the Wednesfield Grammar School Progressive Music Society), but mainly because I was just really interested. However, over the years, the intensity of interest wained, reaching a nadir in the 1990's when I cancelled my subscription to Q because I wasn't listening to enough new music and hadn't a clue about much of what was being written about. Sigh.

Luckily for me (and I do count myself as very lucky indeed), in my late 20's I found myself another Garrod and Lofthouse fan, with some common interests music-wise, but also into some music I'd never listened to, such as Style Council, Graham Parker and Joy Division, plus some weird learnings towards strange Dutch bands like Alquin.

Since then, much has been added to the collection, from all sorts of different genres, although we can be somewhat cynical about some of the newer offerings around. In our middle-age, our slightly jaded palettes have discovered a joyous game, which Richard has called "That Boston Moment". This revolves around us listening to tracks and picking out "influences", or what we prefer to call "riff-offs". The song that has been plundered is then sung raucously over the top of the newer song. The title of the game comes from Semisonic's "Closing Time", part of which has a distinct similarity to Boston's "More Than A Feeling". This is jolly good fun on a long car journey, I can tell you, although usually we are exhausted if Oasis pops up.