(Forgive me if I've written about some/most/all of this in the pub space before, but it - i.e. memory of more recent events - don't come easy anymore.)
I know I probably sound as though steeped in a cauldron of mucus-y self-pity much (most?) of the time, here.
But, honestly.. I start thinking about how incredibly lucky I've been, and the guilt can opaque-over the most beautiful of starry skies for just how motherfuckingly disgusting said luck has been.
I mean, musically *alone*.
Sure, I wasn't old enough to grok the Beatles as an adolescent or adult when they were actively in their prime. But I enjoyed the fuck out of their songs still being the cornerstone of "AM" pop radio stations (one might get an entire album side on an "FM" station from time to time), and cobbling together whatever money I could to periodically spring for one of their albums at what in this part of the world is (was?) called a "K-Mart".
Someone in that pub bookshelf thread brought up the excellent point of book purchases often playing the role of strong memory markers.
Same for vinyl record album purchases, for me.
I can still remember holding them up to the light when there was more than one copy of the same to be sure I got "the best one" (how laughable that I honestly believed I'd possess them in their mostly original state forever...). Carefully biking them three miles home. The ceremonial removal of the thin plastic covering. Inspecting the twain surfaces for scratches, or the occasional chunk of vinyl artifact. Carefully lowering one on the turntable platter. (Jesus... I'm almost shaking writing this...).. that sound of needle finding groove. The sound of friction and/or microscopic impediments just before the first song began....
I'm honestly fucking *there* thinking back to it.
Now, fast forward to the 1990s.
Can you imagine being in your 20s in the 1990s?
Sure, most of my peers rolled their eyes at most of it, including the music. (The stuck-up pieces of sheeeeite were mostly the brain-dead whose inability to type went well with their "cherry on the top" conviction that pointing/clicking in Microsoft "Windows" constituted computer prowess.)
Not this muchacho - hence the "Gwen" reference in (TYPO INTENTIONAL ALERT!) teh previous post.
I still have inner debates on whether 1990s was my favorite musical period, and to me that's really saying something for someone that regularly experienced pop song par excellence in the 1970s. (I still think Looking Glass' "Brandy" might be the best NON-BEATLES pop song of all time....)
There was a bar (aka pub in this locale speak) I frequented called "The Whitehouse". It still exists.
PINTS OF GUINNESS!!!
Cozy.
PINTS OF GUINNESS!!!
Simple.
PINTS OF GUINNESS!!!
Seven foot pool table.
PINTS OF GUINNESS!!!
"Who's up next" chalkboard.
PINTS OF GUINNESS!!!
Jukebox.
PINTS OF GUINNESS!!!
I suspect you get it.
The owner was a cool motherfuck roughly my age... maybe a little older... probably inherited a bunch of money, because he was pretty well off between the bar and his living spread overlooking a famous river in "upstate New York", where he hosted a yearly outdoor summer party that boggled even fairly capable minds.
Mmmm.
Anyway... (shit... how did I drift to *that* topic...)
Oh yeah, the music of the 1990s hot off the CD press as a 20-something.
'Lucky' is too weak a word.
Music has never been a part of my life.
I was a teen in the 90s, but still look on it fondly compared to the following decade (which for me was just "Golden Age of the Internet" era)
I remember houses being relatively bare, with small furniture and large plants, and floral patterned dresses. Wish I knew what the pub culture was like back then.
One song that transports me back: Dream Academy's "Life in a Northern Town"
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5UXnulANF8g
It makes my heart ache watching the scenes in that music video.