It's 1987. The dreamy effeminate boy in your drama class with the asymmetrical haircut and steel-toed combat boots is finally coming over to hang out. You spend your entire geometry class ignoring theorems and planning the perfect soundtrack for the event. You come to the decision that it should probably involve either the angular egde of early Cure or the poppy-but-goth synth intro and powerful warbly vocals of "Cities in Dust." God, wouldn't it be awesome if you could get both in one track? Alas, you're American and all of the mall record stores in your suburban hell totally suck, so you can forget about even attempting to find a copy of The Glove's Blue Sunshine, which you read about once in Star Hits. Besides, what's the point without Siouxsie's vocals? Next thing you know, he's already in your room and before you can stop him, he presses play on your obnoxiously pink plastic Sharp tape player. By the the time it hits the second verse of "People are People," he openly mocks you for buying "this faggy sell-out shit" and announces that he forgot that he had "um, something better to do." He leaves and you're crushed, all of your insecurites about your alterna-cred validated. Man, if only Eva had been there for you then. You could have at least maybe made out with him a few times before he announced his bisexuality the next year (and his homosexuality the year after that). There just weren't enough Polish coldwave Cure tribute albums back in the day. Sigh.
Thursday, April 01, 2004
Transparent tart.
It's 1987. The dreamy effeminate boy in your drama class with the asymmetrical haircut and steel-toed combat boots is finally coming over to hang out. You spend your entire geometry class ignoring theorems and planning the perfect soundtrack for the event. You come to the decision that it should probably involve either the angular egde of early Cure or the poppy-but-goth synth intro and powerful warbly vocals of "Cities in Dust." God, wouldn't it be awesome if you could get both in one track? Alas, you're American and all of the mall record stores in your suburban hell totally suck, so you can forget about even attempting to find a copy of The Glove's Blue Sunshine, which you read about once in Star Hits. Besides, what's the point without Siouxsie's vocals? Next thing you know, he's already in your room and before you can stop him, he presses play on your obnoxiously pink plastic Sharp tape player. By the the time it hits the second verse of "People are People," he openly mocks you for buying "this faggy sell-out shit" and announces that he forgot that he had "um, something better to do." He leaves and you're crushed, all of your insecurites about your alterna-cred validated. Man, if only Eva had been there for you then. You could have at least maybe made out with him a few times before he announced his bisexuality the next year (and his homosexuality the year after that). There just weren't enough Polish coldwave Cure tribute albums back in the day. Sigh.
