It’s the beginning of the school year, 1983, and I’m on the cusp of turning 14. I’ve been a slave to pop music, common radio junk that’s been force-fed to me by the radio. I am recovering from hillbilly rock and the trailing ends of disco at this point – Michael Jackson is trying really hard to get me to like his stuff.
My mom had just remarried and we had moved to a new town, a new High School that was 8th through 12th grade. I’ve always been the kid on the fringe, so this was nothing new to me. A girl comes up to me on my first day of High School, sees me sitting by myself, and we start to talk. She’s a Michael Jackson fan, of course. Strike one. But we become fast friends anyway.
A month (or few?) later we walked to her house after school, probably a good five miles away, up in the hills. She pulled out her step-dad’s records of Van Halen and The Police, and I found music for what felt like the first time.
Here’s one of the songs we listened to that first time we dug into his stash. An interesting side note, it’s supposedly written about Carl Jung’s theory of Synchronicity, a philosopher I’d study ten years later in college, not making the connection to this influential song.
Happy end of week to you.