In Between Days - The Cure (Head on the Door, 1985)

This one I associate less with a specific event or person, than with period of transition of which The Cure - and bands like them - were a part. I gave myself a bit of a 'makeover' in 1983. Gave up the jean jacket, feathered hair and wispy moustache, in favour of a somewhat 'cleaner' look. New Wave was well underway; I was mid-way through High School; and realizing the headbanger look wasn't working for me, but lacking the nerve to be a punk, I chose a middle ground (not the last time). The 80's were all about the floppy (foppish) forelock, paisley shirts, cardigans, desert boots, and all kinds of self-absorbed nonsense. If you are interested in better understanding the sub-urban Prairie experience of that era, watch the two great and harrowing documentaries of the period: Fast Times at Ridgemont High and 16 Candles.

Take the Skinheads Bowling - Camper van Beethoven (Telephone Free Landslide Victory, 1985)

I'm really not sure why I chose to put this on the CD. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that 'Take the Skinheads Bowling' appeared on a compilation published by the UK magazine Uncut in December 2005 called 'John Peel's Festive 15'. Listening to The Fall put me in mind of John Peel (Peel's favourite band) and... here we are. It's a silly song, but with the recurring image of skinheads in a bowling alley, it neatly lampoons the absurdity of being a bald headed racist in 18 hole Doc Martens, suspenders and a bomber jacket... in Southern California to boot. Anyway, to see how skinheads look bowling, there is, inevitably, a video on You Tube. Got big lanes... got big lanes... look the same... look the same.

How I Wrote 'Elastic Man' - The Fall (Grotesque, 1980)

Grotesque was (after Patrik Fitzgerald's Gifts & Telegrams) the greatest of Michael's Southgate Public Library discoveries. Easy to see why he couldn't resist the cover. Rapidly dubbed to cassette tape, Grotesque was the soundtrack for many late night adventures in Michael's Dad's Toyota Corolla. I can honestly say that, at the time, it was the strangest thing I'd ever heard, not least of which because of the snarling, lazy, almost spoken, vocals of Mark E. Smith (seen here in 1985). He hasn't aged especially well, competing with The Pogues Shane McGowan for the ravaged face of rock award.

The Fall were huge favourites of the hugely influential British DJ John Peel. Of course, we had absolutely no idea at the time, we just liked the cover and the nasty music. When Peel died in 2004, the BBC called in Mark E. Smith for an opinion. He wasn't especially helpful...

I had to wait until September of 1994 to see The Fall, in Vancouver at The Starfish Room. One surviving account from that night suggests he wasn't very helpful on that occasion either.