1985 - first half

1985 was A levels and A level mocks – cycling to school. 

Life with my parents had become unbearable. Being away from home with people of my own age made me hungry for more. I had London in my sights, but first the A Levels were upon me. My drive to go to London, in particular was not as strong as my need just to get away. At that stage I was willing to consider almost anywhere, including Liverpool, Staffordshire and other places on the edges of reality.

I had to be nagged into picking up a pile of brochures(?) for each college – but only Polys, I wasn't university material after all, so I didn’t even try to apply. I had to go to a little careers office in Plymouth by the big cinema and Theatre Royal roundabout – Derry's Cross.  I sat in there and gleaned the bits of info I needed. Their entry requirements was pretty much it, and what the proper names of the courses was. I pretty quickly narrowed down the course to E&E engineering, the subjects I was taking more or less dictated that. But the Polys more or less chose themselves – the ones who would take me on a very low grade requirement. Thames was very low but I think Liverpool was the lowest – I’m sure they said I could go even if I failed. 

What went with my application – I think – was a letter from my headmaster detailing all the “issues” I’d had – allegedly mental health issues, but actually undiagnosed autism issues. At one point in ’84 or ’85 I was diagnosed as being schizophrenic. But I wasn’t. And also – clinically depressed – but I wasn’t. In reality I was asked if I was happy. I wasn’t. I was frustrated by my failure to get on with people. I was self conscious about my looks. I felt stupid but inside knew I wasn’t. There were a lot of issues, and any depression I suffered was perfectly natural due to all the previous issues, and it’s no good treating the smoke and expecting the fire to go out. So despite going to see a therapist right up until my entry into Poly, I went to see this guy once a week and talked about what was on my mind. I felt bloody embarrassed about the whole thing. I hated it, it did more to make me feel like I was on another planet and not fit to live on this one, than anything else. And I achieved nothing through it.

Parents had bought a new music centre - it couldn't play those new-fangled CD things but it played everything else and provided FM stereo radio. So I taped as much stuff from it as possible. Stereo was great! While I hated over-produced music for a time I became ensnared by it.

There was a particularly good show on Radio One sat afternoons – Richard Skinner and I think Andy Kershaw were on it. It was in some ways a music paper on the radio, and a bit like Whistletest in its outlook – not surprising as I think thingy from Whistetest was on it too. They actually discussed music. I heard James for the first time on this programme and Frank Sidebottom – both did sessions. On the negative side one of the early CD releases was Dire straits – who i already hated – “money for nothing” etc. Even now it makes me want to pull my own head off.

I think I was getting a bit lost with my musical direction at this point. Having gone from pop and new wave through electronic, punk, post punk, two tone, Bowie, The Stones, Dylan, funk, psychedelia, The Beatles, Led Zep, Indie...suddenly I seemed to be back to having no obvious place to call my musical home. Still discovering new music from all the artists I’d discovered, particularly Led Zep, The Doors, Dylan, Talking Heads, Lennon, George Harrison, Stones, and so on, there was very little new (to me), and easily available, i could pick up on. I'd gone and picked all the low hnging fruit I could find and stuffed myself on their juicy contents. 

Telly - The Tube was good for new stuff – saw J&MC for first time, and Tom Waits. What i needed was money so I could follow up with these discoveries by buying their records, and a friend or two who was similarly into the more obscure stuff. Both those things were to arrive within 6 months.

Going to the ski slope near Torquay in 1984 i remember Everything But the girl getting played on the coach. I don’t think they were very well known then. I'd been aware of them since I picked up the cherry Red compilation, Pillows and Prayers. 

Someone did me a copy of Queen's Greatest hits (Southern or Colin?) which had featured so heavily in the ski trip, I got some Springsteen from Colin, was listening again to some of the better-produced items form my own collection - Elvis Costello, late Beatles, etc.

There was a girl on the ski trip who was interested in me. There were a few who thought I was “cute” but none seemed to consider me as dating material except this one girl. When she hurt herself skiing I helped her walk back to the hotel. It was quite a long walk and I had to put my arm round to her to physically help her. I was so stupid that I couldn;t see the reasons why she asked me to help, out of about 30/40 boys and girls, including her friends, and the teacher. Still it’s a nice warming memory whenever I’m feeling down.

I became slightly sporty at this point too. Cousin Mark had taken me under his wing and was teaching me to canoe; evenings on the Barbican or at Fort Bovi; The Dolphin pub; Cap'n Jaspers, even arranging for me to have my first snog just before xmas 1983, with a slightly fat girl who was at least 4 or 5 years older than me. I was barely legal.

It felt a bit like in the last year in Plymouth I was desperately making up for all the years I'd not engaged. It was time to be sporty, to go surfing sailing and all that stuff, and then go out and get pissed, and find a person with whom to be intimate for a while, discard, then go back out there, but it was too much too late. Plymouth was lost to me and I was lost to Plymouth. 

Through the summer I was heading out sailing with Mark Wilkinson too in the school boat. We sailed on Friday evening in some sort of league which we were always bottom of, until the last race of the year when Mark ran us aground; I was just following orders.

My social disconnection was becoming very apparent here too. At the sailing club I just couldn't connect - (Graham --?-- ). The depression I felt was because of this disconnection...now i know to be autism, but at the time it was an alarming deficiency which I just could not overcome.

This was probably my most sociable period though. I was by now very attracted to girls which was my main motivation (but also boys, but I kept that hidden even to myself). I even went to clubs (which I always hated, but used to have some tolerance to). At the weekend I went out with "the lads" - which comprised as a core, me, Andy, Bill, and Colin though there were others. We would mainly go to an old man's pub and talk, have a few pints, then move on to something a bit more trendy in central Plymouth, finally ending up in a club on Union Street. The Academy was quite well known at the time around the west-country. i hated it, but considered it to be a necessary evil. It never did me any good though and to this day my head is polluted with the memories of power pop anthems and remixed Frankie songs.

A Levels came and went - I dropped out of Further maths and felt utterly relieved, on the pretext that the chain came off my bike when I was cycling to the mock exam and I was made late - weak I know. But it left me able to concentrate on physics, maths and chemistry. i was never any good at chemistry, and in retrospect should never have taken it, but it was forced on me by tradition and the time-table.

In the end I only got 2 A Levels - if i'd taken the subjects I wanted - Maths, physics, art, biology, I'm sure I would have passed all 4, and with better grades. god knows how badly I'd have done if I'd been forced to keep up the Further Maths.

The chain came off on my way to one exam and I just gave up and went home again. I’m really surprised my mum let me get away with it, but she did – or maybe she never knew…

Teacher was disappointed but he accepted that I didnlt feel I was ready for it.

Perfectly timed was Live aid - almost immediately after the end of term. I remember meeting up for the last drink with loads of my schoolfriends - and live aid was the main discussion point in the early part of the evening, especially queen. My brief flirtation with queen was already over by the summer, and I hated them again. Thought Queen's performance was embarrassing, and suspected their motives for performing as it immediately revived their career with, what was, quite frankly, pretty ropey material: Radio Goo goo Gaa Gaa. Do me a favour!!

The Morley Arms - family local