The Soundtrack of Our Lives
A Double Album in Prose
by Annie Christie
Genre: Drama
Swearwords: None.
Description: For anyone who has ever got lost in music!
Swearwords: None.
Description: For anyone who has ever got lost in music!
Disc One
Side One
Lost in Music
We're lost in music
Caught in a trap
No turnin' back
We're lost in music (Sister Sledge)
Side One
Lost in Music
We're lost in music
Caught in a trap
No turnin' back
We're lost in music (Sister Sledge)
Track Five
You were evidently the exception to the rule (Jimmy Osmond)
~ Puppy Love,1976 ~
You were evidently the exception to the rule (Jimmy Osmond)
~ Puppy Love,1976 ~
Teenage girls are much taken with obsessive love. They learn it in their pre-teens and we had Donny Osmond, David Soul, David Essex and the Bay City Rollers to practice on before we transferred our obsessive natures onto a real boy. That real boy being Billy McGinley. I blush to admit it, but it’s true none the less. These days you’d call it stalking, I suppose, in those days it was just ‘a crush’. Just ‘puppy love’. Just what we did. No one paid attention. No one batted an eyelid. Most of all no one knew. Certainly not Billy. But it meant that I saw the first time Rachel saw Billy and I know what she saw because it was what I saw too. To her, in that moment, he wasn’t a silly wee Scottish boy aping a silly wee boy from America. He was Sex. On. Legs. Given our somewhat naïve understanding of sex in those days, of course!
~ 2013 ~
Laura phoned me some time later – we always preferred to talk rather than text – she’d obviously not got over my revelation. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe me, but she couldn’t believe that ‘the first time ever we saw his face’ she wasn’t there.
Billy was a Bowie fan. First and last. She said, ‘I’ve looked back. Bowie’s Starman was in the charts then.’
‘So?’
‘So why would he be singing Long Haired Lover? Not really his style.’
I laughed. It was ludicrous to think of the primary school Billy McGinley as having ‘style’.
She had a point though. There was Starman, dropping like a stone in the face of Donny Osmond’s Puppy Love. It must have been a difficult time for Bowie. Donny’s spotless face all over the charts like a rash. Must have been hard to hold your nerve against that.
‘Ah, but Billy didn’t know that, did he?’
‘What do you mean?’ she asked.
‘I mean, he hadn’t discovered Bowie then,’ I said.
‘How do you know?’ she said.
I gave it my best suspense pause, then said, ‘Because I was there when he heard Bowie for the first time.’
She put the phone down on me. But I knew she’d be back. Although a part of me wondered whether on such small things life-long friendships could be lost. Perhaps it was a revelation too far for Laura, who hadn’t come into our lives until August 1973, when we all started at the High School. But I reckoned she’d be back. So I let it be. I didn’t phone her back. I felt sorry for her. I mean, it’s kind of sad that still, 40 years later, she holds a grudge that I knew Billy before she did. Especially since… I’ll just say Benmore and leave it at that. Though there’s another song, in another decade, which has a relevance - Twisting by the Pool. It was 1983. But you’ll have to wait. There’s a lot of troubled water passing under Simon and Garfunkel’s Bridge before we get to 1983.
~ 1976 ~
If I try to paint you a picture of 1976, I can only do it through music. Music was everything to us then. And back in 1976 – post Bohemian Rhapsody – we were all obsessed with the charts and the monthly school discos. But between discos we took whatever opportunities we could to enjoy all that co-education had to offer. And that meant ‘extra curricula’ activities. The school offered all sorts of opportunities and we took them up partly as a way to relieve the tedium of O Grade work – we’d picked ‘subjects’ but few of us actually had any interest in Latin or French or History or Geography. None of us had interest in Maths or Home Economics. That wasn’t what school was about. That was just the part you had to put up with in between the ‘good’ stuff.
Sport was a bit of an issue, because the girls were always at a disadvantage. Not just because they were weaker than the boys but because mixed sport meant having to walk around in fewer clothes than any of us liked to be seen in by boys. This was before girl-power. You probably don’t remember but between the Swinging 60s and the Spice Girls, your average teenage girl did not want to flaunt her ‘changing’ body in front of anyone, especially the opposite sex. Only when a gym teacher was sick did we have to take mixed classes. Then they tried to be ‘fair’ by making us play mixed netball rather than mixed basketball and mixed hockey rather than mixed football.
Once a teacher tried to give us a mixed gym circuit class – climbing ropes and vaulting horses – and the girls just caved. And as for swimming. Well, we didn’t like changing for that even single sex. The swimming pool had windows open to the world so that once in the goldfish bowl you could be leered at by any and every one outside which put the kybosh on any desire to participate and the only reason any of us agreed to undertake the indignity of synchronised swimming was that it was safer in the pool than standing at the side. But mostly swimming circa 1976 was an exercise in how many times you could claim (in hushed tones) that you had your period. Failing that it was a headache or a note from your mum. Lucky we all learned to swim at the public baths in primary school – complete with the packet hot tomato and finger of fudge bribe at the end – and memories of mucking around with a young Billy aka the Long Haired Lover from Liverpool tribute band were just that – embarrassing memories from a childhood long trampled under the weight to adolescent angst. If I was thrown into the sea I could swim a regulation 100 meters, but life’s waters, I knew I would drown while still in sight of the shore.
There were sports we happily took part in as mixed groups. For me and Laura it was fencing and skiing. You’ll note in both of these you are more than fully dressed. Masks were an absolute must-have accessory for the enjoyment of mixed sport. You might think of both of these as ‘posh’ sports but in our school in the 1970’s remember they were trying to show that comprehensive schools could be every bit as good as fee paying ones and that manifested itself by money being spent bringing in tutors for fencing and hiring buses for ski-trips to the dry slope at Hillend and, through the winter, to Glenshee.
Billy and Rachel took part in every mixed after-school club except Badminton. This way they had maximum time to spend together and of course he walked her home every evening. Fencing and skiing had the added bonus of giving them time together at the weekends because those of us who got good enough were encouraged to take part in inter-school competitions in fencing and obviously skiing involved an early start and a late arrival home on a Saturday or Sunday.
Irritatingly, of course, while their reason for participation was less about the sport than the time together, they were both good at sports, though Laura and I were picked over Rachel for fencing competitions on more than one occasion. Each time it happened Billy agreed to compete and then pulled out on the day. And Rachel turned up at school on Monday with a high collar – the tell-tale sign of a love bite which gave testimony to their own sporting activities! When Rachel made the team Billy was there and they travelled together. Holding hands on the bus. They never missed a ski trip.
In April 1976 Brotherhood of Man was still number one, but we were singing a song romping up the charts – Lying in the Arms of Mary. We were arguing over whether it’d get up there and knock Abba off the top slot. The boys had got fed up with this game because as Stevie said ‘all the tunes are lame’ these days. They were starting to lose patience with the charts. They watched the Old Grey Whistle Test and listened to John Peel. They were arguing over the likes of The Ramones and Kiss. Laura and I preferred the Bay City Rollers but we didn’t dare say.
That summer term was the big inter-school competition where Laura’s older brother Grant first put in an appearance. Grant fenced for Scotland under 18s. He was doing Highers. He was at another school. He was everything a girl was supposed to want in a boy. But he was my best friend’s brother.
Rachel had Billy. So in 1976 Grant had to stand in line despite being a year older than Rachel and two years older than Billy. Grant is a big part of this story – but not yet. When I look back he wreaked all kinds of havoc with all of us. Intentionally? I still don’t know. You’ll have to judge for yourself on that score. I can’t help but think of the Jaws theme tune when I think of Grant – but judge his predatory instincts for yourself. Perhaps I’m being unkind. I should be more forgiving. And in case you’re interested, it never went beyond a kiss. It never did. Not then, not ever.
Discography: Want to sing along? Here are some YouTube links – sorry about attendant ads – sure you can find these all on your streaming music delivery platform (if you have such a thing!):
David Bowie Starman https://youtu.be/sI66hcu9fIs
Jimmy Osmond Long haired lover https://youtu.be/YriPIujLtsA
Donny Osmond Puppy Love https://youtu.be/zI2hgm65WhE
Sutherland Brothers and Quiver The Arms of Mary https://youtu.be/7G93_uxIBRY
~ 2013 ~
Laura phoned me some time later – we always preferred to talk rather than text – she’d obviously not got over my revelation. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe me, but she couldn’t believe that ‘the first time ever we saw his face’ she wasn’t there.
Billy was a Bowie fan. First and last. She said, ‘I’ve looked back. Bowie’s Starman was in the charts then.’
‘So?’
‘So why would he be singing Long Haired Lover? Not really his style.’
I laughed. It was ludicrous to think of the primary school Billy McGinley as having ‘style’.
She had a point though. There was Starman, dropping like a stone in the face of Donny Osmond’s Puppy Love. It must have been a difficult time for Bowie. Donny’s spotless face all over the charts like a rash. Must have been hard to hold your nerve against that.
‘Ah, but Billy didn’t know that, did he?’
‘What do you mean?’ she asked.
‘I mean, he hadn’t discovered Bowie then,’ I said.
‘How do you know?’ she said.
I gave it my best suspense pause, then said, ‘Because I was there when he heard Bowie for the first time.’
She put the phone down on me. But I knew she’d be back. Although a part of me wondered whether on such small things life-long friendships could be lost. Perhaps it was a revelation too far for Laura, who hadn’t come into our lives until August 1973, when we all started at the High School. But I reckoned she’d be back. So I let it be. I didn’t phone her back. I felt sorry for her. I mean, it’s kind of sad that still, 40 years later, she holds a grudge that I knew Billy before she did. Especially since… I’ll just say Benmore and leave it at that. Though there’s another song, in another decade, which has a relevance - Twisting by the Pool. It was 1983. But you’ll have to wait. There’s a lot of troubled water passing under Simon and Garfunkel’s Bridge before we get to 1983.
~ 1976 ~
If I try to paint you a picture of 1976, I can only do it through music. Music was everything to us then. And back in 1976 – post Bohemian Rhapsody – we were all obsessed with the charts and the monthly school discos. But between discos we took whatever opportunities we could to enjoy all that co-education had to offer. And that meant ‘extra curricula’ activities. The school offered all sorts of opportunities and we took them up partly as a way to relieve the tedium of O Grade work – we’d picked ‘subjects’ but few of us actually had any interest in Latin or French or History or Geography. None of us had interest in Maths or Home Economics. That wasn’t what school was about. That was just the part you had to put up with in between the ‘good’ stuff.
Sport was a bit of an issue, because the girls were always at a disadvantage. Not just because they were weaker than the boys but because mixed sport meant having to walk around in fewer clothes than any of us liked to be seen in by boys. This was before girl-power. You probably don’t remember but between the Swinging 60s and the Spice Girls, your average teenage girl did not want to flaunt her ‘changing’ body in front of anyone, especially the opposite sex. Only when a gym teacher was sick did we have to take mixed classes. Then they tried to be ‘fair’ by making us play mixed netball rather than mixed basketball and mixed hockey rather than mixed football.
Once a teacher tried to give us a mixed gym circuit class – climbing ropes and vaulting horses – and the girls just caved. And as for swimming. Well, we didn’t like changing for that even single sex. The swimming pool had windows open to the world so that once in the goldfish bowl you could be leered at by any and every one outside which put the kybosh on any desire to participate and the only reason any of us agreed to undertake the indignity of synchronised swimming was that it was safer in the pool than standing at the side. But mostly swimming circa 1976 was an exercise in how many times you could claim (in hushed tones) that you had your period. Failing that it was a headache or a note from your mum. Lucky we all learned to swim at the public baths in primary school – complete with the packet hot tomato and finger of fudge bribe at the end – and memories of mucking around with a young Billy aka the Long Haired Lover from Liverpool tribute band were just that – embarrassing memories from a childhood long trampled under the weight to adolescent angst. If I was thrown into the sea I could swim a regulation 100 meters, but life’s waters, I knew I would drown while still in sight of the shore.
There were sports we happily took part in as mixed groups. For me and Laura it was fencing and skiing. You’ll note in both of these you are more than fully dressed. Masks were an absolute must-have accessory for the enjoyment of mixed sport. You might think of both of these as ‘posh’ sports but in our school in the 1970’s remember they were trying to show that comprehensive schools could be every bit as good as fee paying ones and that manifested itself by money being spent bringing in tutors for fencing and hiring buses for ski-trips to the dry slope at Hillend and, through the winter, to Glenshee.
Billy and Rachel took part in every mixed after-school club except Badminton. This way they had maximum time to spend together and of course he walked her home every evening. Fencing and skiing had the added bonus of giving them time together at the weekends because those of us who got good enough were encouraged to take part in inter-school competitions in fencing and obviously skiing involved an early start and a late arrival home on a Saturday or Sunday.
Irritatingly, of course, while their reason for participation was less about the sport than the time together, they were both good at sports, though Laura and I were picked over Rachel for fencing competitions on more than one occasion. Each time it happened Billy agreed to compete and then pulled out on the day. And Rachel turned up at school on Monday with a high collar – the tell-tale sign of a love bite which gave testimony to their own sporting activities! When Rachel made the team Billy was there and they travelled together. Holding hands on the bus. They never missed a ski trip.
In April 1976 Brotherhood of Man was still number one, but we were singing a song romping up the charts – Lying in the Arms of Mary. We were arguing over whether it’d get up there and knock Abba off the top slot. The boys had got fed up with this game because as Stevie said ‘all the tunes are lame’ these days. They were starting to lose patience with the charts. They watched the Old Grey Whistle Test and listened to John Peel. They were arguing over the likes of The Ramones and Kiss. Laura and I preferred the Bay City Rollers but we didn’t dare say.
That summer term was the big inter-school competition where Laura’s older brother Grant first put in an appearance. Grant fenced for Scotland under 18s. He was doing Highers. He was at another school. He was everything a girl was supposed to want in a boy. But he was my best friend’s brother.
Rachel had Billy. So in 1976 Grant had to stand in line despite being a year older than Rachel and two years older than Billy. Grant is a big part of this story – but not yet. When I look back he wreaked all kinds of havoc with all of us. Intentionally? I still don’t know. You’ll have to judge for yourself on that score. I can’t help but think of the Jaws theme tune when I think of Grant – but judge his predatory instincts for yourself. Perhaps I’m being unkind. I should be more forgiving. And in case you’re interested, it never went beyond a kiss. It never did. Not then, not ever.
Discography: Want to sing along? Here are some YouTube links – sorry about attendant ads – sure you can find these all on your streaming music delivery platform (if you have such a thing!):
David Bowie Starman https://youtu.be/sI66hcu9fIs
Jimmy Osmond Long haired lover https://youtu.be/YriPIujLtsA
Donny Osmond Puppy Love https://youtu.be/zI2hgm65WhE
Sutherland Brothers and Quiver The Arms of Mary https://youtu.be/7G93_uxIBRY
About the Author
Annie Christie is a pretty ordinary person, except that she was born Annie Christie and then married a man called Christie and so is still called Christie despite having taken on her husband’s name. She sometimes wonders if she should have called herself Christie-Christie: but who would believe that?
Born near Drum of Wartle in Aberdeenshire, Annie moved as swiftly as possible to a place with a less bizarre name – Edinburgh – but the bizarreness chased her and she now lives with her husband Rab in rural Galloway, with a Kirkcudbrightshire postcode. (That's Cur coo bree shire to the uninitiated.) She is an active member of the Infinite Jigsaw Project.
The Soundtrack of Our Lives is Annie's fourth McSerial written for McStorytellers.
Born near Drum of Wartle in Aberdeenshire, Annie moved as swiftly as possible to a place with a less bizarre name – Edinburgh – but the bizarreness chased her and she now lives with her husband Rab in rural Galloway, with a Kirkcudbrightshire postcode. (That's Cur coo bree shire to the uninitiated.) She is an active member of the Infinite Jigsaw Project.
The Soundtrack of Our Lives is Annie's fourth McSerial written for McStorytellers.