Friday, 14 December 2007

Guest Blogger #16: Alice Bevan - "Alice's High Fidelity stylee songs of the year and all the emotional baggage they bring with them. Boohooo, wahhhh."

Righto, since this thing is about the songs of my ENTIRE year, I'm going to get chronological on your faces and start all the way back in January. Can I get a rewind?

The first notable song of 2007 that I can think of is 'we are your friends' by Justice vs Simian. Yes, yes, I know it was out in 2006, but when I returned to Sussex after the Christmas holidays and a few hours of 'argh I kind of really want to stay in Oxford' this was the song that made me think, 'hmmm, actually, ok, maybe it's alright here'. Granted I was drunk to the point that any song that I heard would've probably evoked equally 'YEAH!' emotions, but when this beauty came at my ears in the arc on the first night back I thought, 'WOW, they ARE my friends'. So, yeah.

The January to February period was all about that Killers album (have they already done another one? Surely not, but I heard they had? Maybe we were just really slow in getting the second one...?) and singing 'thisriveriswiiiiiiiiiiild' at any given opportunity with Carl. This was during our 'we're freshers, let's stay up until 6am every day for absolutely no reason and fail our courses' phase. Because of this sort of logic, we also spent FAR too much time at the arcade, so daytona song gets a mention. Yes, the daytona song is that song that the daytona driving game plays out when you put money in it... it kind of sounds like 'daddy owned herrrrrrr'. Good times.

March was when I started spending a lot of time wandering around Brighton on my own in the day being melancholy. Chkchkchk got a lot of plays for angry value, I was not a very happy bunny. Also, was this about the time that Britney Spears done her mental hair cutting trick? Because I remember being on a train in Portsmouth, looking at the paper and thinking 'WTFFFF' and I was listening to TV on the radio, and somehow this combination of events stuck in my brain like a very sticky brainy thing.

April. Some of you know what April means. April means: MOROCCO. AAAAAAAAARGH!!! For those of you who haven't heard my delightful tale before, I went to Morocco with my Sussex friends during our Easter holidays. We thought it would be fun. And it was... until I got dysentery. Mmmm, my fave. My notable album of April is Justin Timberlake's album, because that's what we were listening to as we drove through the desert for 4 hours and I vomited all over myself and everyone else. Yum. I gave the album to our taxi driver as some kind of poor compensation for sicking all over his van. He was pretty chuffed, that album is rude in every sense of the word. Driving into Marrakesh with the windows down and dancing to sexyback was also a highlight of the year; the combination of being out of the desert and back in a town combined with dancing deliriously combined with our taxi man bobbing his head to the music like a massive P.I.M.P was aweeesome.

May is when I decided to move back to Oxford. I was drunk for most of the month. I remember going to see the walkoff on Sara's birthday at smash disco and falling over a lot, and Sara's brilliantly ambiguous text message to the boy she didn't want to get off with: 'feel sick like 2 go home'. Oh Sara, punctuation is the way. Was this when foals did the cellar too? I dunno. If it was, that was an awesome night, I was yet to be involved in the Oxford scene to any proper extent and I spent the night dancing like a spaz with Blakers and Khai and Lewis and Sara and Tamara, and being uncool, and not caring.

June I moved back to Oxford, it was around this time that I remember sitting at the bar in the star and watching Axl and James dance to chromeo and thinking 'yeah, I was totally right to move back'. Chromeo solve all.

July to August was the HMV period. Working full-time for 'the man', or in my case, 'the Melissa'. Grrr. Lots of stacking dvds. July was all about Rihanna, mostly because July was the month that Oxford was absolutely shat on by the weather. Truck was cancelled, sob. So I thought it was funny whenever I was on an early shift to bang on 'umbrella' at 8 in the morning. We also had to listen to a lot of Now 67, which I now grudgingly love.

September: TRUUUUUCK! unfortunately I didn't like very many of the bands this year due to poorer than usual lineup/my own musical ignorance. Spent the entire weekend getting absolutely smashed and pining for Sara love. Without a doubt my set of the weekend was jonquil. We'd spent the duration of Sunday daytime sat up at camp young'uns drinking wine from a box and doing jonquil singsongs. The jonquil set was also my last one of the weekend, so we gathered our gang together and wedged in at the front and heckled our hearts out. Sorry jonquil. This set was also notable for awesome drunken comeback: 'Err,'can you tone down your singing please?' 'Err, can you tone down your outfit please?' (this was aimed at Michael Barry's short shorts).

October was birthday month. I remember very little about my birthday, apart from dancing to the Smiths on the stage at the cellar. It was also when I started working at the cellar (or was that September?) and we coined 'HEY! HEY! ROO! ROO! I like that you're Jewish!' So it stuck in my brain at ARF? that month when they played 'girlfriend' by Avril Lavigne and I yelled it at Roo as we cleaned up.

November I became obsessed with Kate Nash. Her lyrics are genius:
'And my friends were like "Whatever,
you'll find someone better,
his eyes are way too close together
and we never even liked him from the start.
And now he's with that tart'
November was also when I went to the WORST party of all time and had to sit and watch some weird men listening to the cribs while I wondered WHAT I was doing there. Eww. It was ok, Chelsey and I went and hid.

I won't do December, I'm hoping that someone more memorable is yet to happen, like, err, maybe BLOC PARTY AT ALEXANDRA PALACE OOOOOOMMMMMGGGGGGGGGZZZZZZZ.

I may be a tad excited.

And that was my musical year.


Merry kissmass

Written and e-mailed to the potato farm by Alice Bevan. All rights reserved.

No comments: