Drunken Owls and Other Delights

There's a spot on Daniel Shays Highway in New Salem where, if you're heading south, you end up driving through a tiny wedge of neighboring Shutesbury for about two hundred feet before re-entering New Salem for about a mile and a half until you cross over into Shutesbury for good.

I don't remember when I first did it, but I know it was probably about 1985 or 1986, heading down to Amherst with my Dad to go see a movie. I was always amused by this tiny you're-in-you're-out stretch and somehow I was compelled to hold my breath in that stretch, just to say "I held my breath all the way through Shutesbury."

I brought this silly little habit to my circle of friends soon after. Our habit of "holding our breath" through the town was another silly pastime that would sometimes elicit giggles...sometimes the driver would slow down to a crawl (if no one was behind us), someone would start tickling someone else. Our road trips back then were often down to the Valley (Amherst/Hadley/Northampton) and the normal way to get down there was via Daniel Shays Highway (Rt 202) to Pelham and then cut over via Pelham Road. Later we'd take what we called Shutesbury Road (actually the stretch of Prescott/Cooleyville/Leverett Road--it's called Shutesbury Road once you're in Leverett), a twisty-windy back road that would take us through Leverett and into Amherst via the northern side of town. That was another road my Dad knew, but I think my friends knew it as well. That back road goes through the center of Shutesbury, which consists of a few small buildings--the library, the Town Hall, the fire station, and a few houses.

The majority of the town is woods. It's a quiet and unassuming drive, but you feel like you're driving through a cave of trees that seem to reach out over the road, nearly obscuring the sky. Shutesbury became sort of a running joke with us in high school--not in a mean-spirited way, more of a comment on how boring it can get growing up in a small New England town where there's really not much to do at all except go somewhere else.

I still hold my breath through Shutesbury, every year that we return to New England to visit my family and our friends. It's become habit, and it still makes me smile.

Once again, a long list of songs for your amusement/enjoyment and my retrospect. 1989 was a rather interesting year of change. I'd been going out with Tracey for a few months and it looked to be a really solid relationship so far, and that brought me out of the self-imposed funk I'd felt earlier my senior year. I seem to remember actually feeling a little frustrated by not being the doom-and-gloom proto-emo kid anymore, as I'd kinda grown used to it, to the point where I believed it alone fueled my creativity at that point. Yeah, silly, I know, but still...

There was also the first semester of college to deal with. That itself was kind of strange, in that it felt more like being dropped into the middle of Boston to fend for myself--the school part of it I could handle, it was the change in atmosphere, mindset and setting that hit me. Thankfully my discovery of WFNX (and to my roommate's chagrin, since he was against anything remotelly commercial, even if it was good), I was able to follow up on my alternative music.

Pixies, "Here Comes Your Man"
Doolittle came out just about the time I was wrapping up my senior year in high school, and though it's not my favorite of theirs (that's reserved for Bossanova, this track (and its silly video) is probably my choice from it.
The Cure, "Disintegration", "Homesick", "Untitled"
These three tracks finish off the Disintegration album and are the ones I like most. I remember listening to these tracks while sitting on my parents' porch (reading All Quiet on the Western Front, of all things), just after the last day of head58's first Fiasco party at his grandfather's cabin. A very much "end of summer" type of feeling.
The Replacements, "I'll Be You"
Say what you will about post-Tim 'Mats, I really like this song. I'm sure I'm the only one that remembers this song was used in a 1989 TV movie called Archie: To Riverdale and Back Again (it's about 3:30 in).
The Godfathers, "She Gives Me Love"
The Godfathers's second album More Songs About Love and Hate may not have been as huge as their first one, but it had a lot of great tracks like this one.
Ministry, "Burning Inside"
They had a video for this one? Of course, I missed a lot of videos post-1989 since I didn't have cable during my college years. The Mind is a Terrible Thing to Taste was kind of a strange album to me, as I was used to their previous one. This one felt more commercial--in its own way, of course. This was a great track to play along with on my bass, though.
Nine Inch Nails, "Down In It"
Pretty Hate Machine was a defining moment in my freshman year in college--it was probably the first album that really grabbed at my anger and depression at the time. Anger at my roommate, and depression that I was missing Tracey something fierce. It was probably one of the most played cassettes in my collection that year. I distinctly remember listening to it riding on the commuter train out to Fitchburg with a severe chip on my shoulder. Say what you will about the more-played "Head Like a Hole", "Down In It" was it for me. "Terrible Lie" was the big F-You to my roommate, and "Something I Can Never Have" was the distance from Tracey at the time. So yeah...soundtrack to my life at the end of 1989.
Morrissey, "Ouija Board, Ouija Board"
Out of the singles that Morrissey released that year, this is my favorite, even though a lot of critics say it's the weakest.
Robyn Hitchcock, "One Long Pair of Eyes", "Swirling", "Madonna of the Wasps"
A lot of critics love 1988's Globe of Frogs, but personally I LOVE Queen Elvis. This one's got a lot of great tracks on it, very autumnal-sounding. I remember hearing "Swirling" on WRSI one Sunday autumn afternoon when my dad and I were at an antique store in Winchester NH, and I felt it kind of fit the mood...another "end of summer" feeling.
XTC, "Mayor of Simpleton"
Oranges & Lemons got a lot of play on my tape deck for most of the year. Great album, and this was the big hit off it. If anything, this was an album that put me in a good mood during this time.
Wire, "Eardrum Buzz"
It's Beginning to and Back Again is a very odd album for Wire...it wasn't so much new stuff as it was a hodgepodge of new stuff (like this) and reinterpreted older stuff. I only had this on cassette (I didn't pick up a cd player until well after the album was out), so I never got to hear the other single, "In Vivo" (which I feel in retrospect is a much stronger track), until a few years later when it popped up on the A List compilation.
Love and Rockets, "So Alive"
The BIG hit (it actually hit #1 on certain charts!) of theirs that everyone knows. I love the slinkiness of the song.
Bob Mould, "Wishing Well"
Workbook was another tape that got a lot of play on train rides home. I'm not sure if h58 got me into this album or if I picked it up on my own, but this is the track that won me over.
The The, "The Beat(en) Generation"
Not my favorite The The track, but it definitely surprised me when this came out, especially when I heard Johnny Marr was on it. Mind Bomb ended up getting a lot of play on my walkman that summer when I mowed cemeteries for the DPW.
Colorblind James Experience, "Considering a Move to Memphis"
This weird yet goofy little ditty had some big airplay on WAMH. One of those tracks you hear on the radio and sort of stare at it with a look of "uh...oookay...?" but somehow you learn to like it. To this day whenever someone mentions pieroshkis or Memphis, I think of this song.
Sigue Sigue Sputnik, "Success"
How do you react when you hear that one of your favorite weird 80s bands teams up with the dreaded Stock Aitken Waterman production team? I really did want to hate this song for that reason...but damn it, it was catchy enough to like. Dress for Excess wasn't the best follow-up to Flaunt It (and it did take three years!), but it had its moments, like "Is This the Future", the hauntingly beautiful closing track I could totally see being played in a space opera anime.
Fuzzbox, "International Rescue"
Speaking of favorite weird bands from '86, Fuzzbox followed up their punky sorta-self-titled album with Big Bang...and upon first listen, I was totally let down. How could they go from snarky punks("Love is the Slug") to Jem and the Holograms("Pink Sunshine")?!?? But somehow I was still drawn into it...it was poppy to a J-Pop degree, and soon became one of my favorites of the year. They even managed to get extra credit for doing a great cover of "Walking on Thin Ice"...a Yoko Ono song!
Max Q, "Way of the World"
Michael Hutchence's side project yielded only one album and this was the single. A rather interesting take on politics of the time.
He Said, "Could You...?"
Graham Lewis from Wire released Watch Take Care when I wasn't looking, and I actually enjoyed this one more than Wire's IBTABA. Very moody and sparse, and very unlike the stuff he did with Wire at the time.
Xymox, "Obsession"
Twist of Shadows has always been one of those "oh yeah, forgot about that album!" sort of releases, but it's always been a big favorite of mine, and in the top 10 of 1989. They grew out of their gloomy 4AD sound somewhat, went a little poppier, but it's an awesome album, well worth picking up. "Imagination" was the other single.
Jorge Ben, "Umbabarauma"
It's a track from the 70s, but David Byrne released it on one of his Brazil Classics compilations, and it's got one hell of a funky riff. WAMH played this a lot, as did 120 Minutes.
Public Image Ltd, "Disappointed"
To be honest, an ironically titled song from 9, which I didn't like nearly as much as their previous one, Happy?. It's kind of grown on me, though. I saw that tour PiL did with the Sugarcubes and New Order, and it was a rather interesting, if slightly boring, show. Personally I liked "Warrior" better.
Severed Heads, "All Saints Day"
A band I'd only heard of but never heard until I bought their Rotund for Success album and it quickly became one of my favorites. It's weird and lo-fi electronica, but it's got some absolutely great tracks on it like this one.
Tin Machine, "Under the God"
Say what you will about Bowie's side project, I really liked this album--it was SO much better than his last few albums which were bordering on snoozefests. Another tape that got a lot of play during my DPW tenure.
Dinosaur Jr., "Just Like Heaven"
Hee! This video still cracks me up. Great trashy cover of the big Cure hit.
The B-52s, "Channel Z"
I'm really not a big fan of Cosmic Thing--I've heard "Love Shack" enough in one lifetime, thankyewverymuch--but I've always liked this track.
Red Flag, "Russian Radio"
These guys were definitely Depeche Mode clones, more so than Camouflage ever was, but this is a great track nonetheless.
Ciccone Youth, "Into the Groove(y)"
I'd never been a big fan of Sonic Youth, but this album changed that. Originally a late 1988 album but rereleased in 1989, this track got quite a bit of play on WAMH.
Michael Penn, "Brave New World"
March was such an unexpectedly great album that came from nowhere. WFNX used to play this track a lot and it's my favorite from it. One of those almost nonsensical "Subterranean Homesick Blues" sort of tracks, really.
The Smithereens, "A Girl Like You"
Never dawned on me until the third or fourth listen of this song that the lyrics are basically the plot to Say Anything, which this was originally written for. Another great Smithereens track!
Bill Pritchard, "Tommy & Co."
Very few people remember this one, but it's from one of my other favorite albums of '89. Folksy and poppy with quite a bit of moody-bastardness thrown in, I listened to this album quite a bit deep into 1990.

I think it has to do with the mindset I grew up with...and I'm sure you've all had it. You know, when it's late afternoon or early evening, the sun's already down, it's getting cold, and you have school tomorrow. It's not so much a feeling of dread of having to go to class (or in our case now, work) the next day, as it is a feeling of admitting that the weekend is over.

Living in a city now, at this point in the year I'm always reminded of the years I lived in Boston, going to college at Emerson. Back then, Emerson was situated mostly on Beacon Street in Back Bay (unlike it is now, all at the corner of Boylston and Tremont). For two years I lived at Charlesgate, one of two buildings it used to own at the other end of Back Bay, just outside of Kenmore Square. It was just outside of the downtown area, but still close to everything. Most weekends I stayed in town, hanging out with friends or finishing up homework, but every now and again I would take the commuter train back home.

There were many reasons for these trips back home...visiting family, visiting my then-girlfriend T., scamming some groceries from home, and of course doing laundry for free. I'd head out on late Friday afternoon, sometimes catching the train at North Station, but more often than not catching it at Porter Square. I'd take the Leominster/Fitchburg train out to its terminus (at that point, they still had the coach bus from the Fitchburg stop to Gardner), where one of my parents would pick me up. The ride was often uneventful, and I'd while away the time staring out the window, or if it was dark, writing poetry or in my journal. I'd always have my walkman going, listening to mostly the same things. I pretty much had the same playlist on the way back to Athol: Bob Mould's Workbook, Nine Inch Nails' Pretty Hate Machine, Wire's 154, and The Cure's Pornography...with random other titles and compilations popping in, but those four seemed to be mainstays. The music often had an undertone of frustration.

Going back home was always kind of strange, because at that time I was trying to distance myself from there at the same time. Though I was trying to get away from the small town and the attitudes that came with it, I still had a caring family and a loving girlfriend that I didn't want to ignore. At the same time, however, I was dealing with conflicting feelings about where I was socially and academically in college, and taking the trip home was a good way to distance myself from that for a few days. It was a strange time for me, but I eventually got through it. And any time spent with T. was a happy time.

When Sunday came, I didn't so much dread going back (though T. and I definitely felt the distance between us) as it felt like I was going back to face whatever it was I left in Boston with a better outlook. It was like I took a weekend off from the city, only to come back to it fresh on Sunday night. My parents (or sometimes one of my siblings) would drive me to the Fitchburg or Leominster stop, and I'd settle in for the long trip back. We'd go in mid-afternoon, so I'd be able to watch most of the trip from my window. I did do a bit of last-minute homework there as well, but mostly I just listened to my music and wrote poetry or in my journal. The music on the way back was different: Morrissey's Viva Hate and Bona Drag, Severed Heads' Rotund for Success, Cocteau Twins' Blue Bell Knoll, and The Cure's Disintegration, and of course more compilations. The mood of the music on the way to Boston was a little more melancholy.

Sometimes I'd get off the train at Porter Square and switch to the Red Line (I still have an affinity for the megalong escalator at that stop...), but more often than not I'd take the train all the way into North Station. Now, North Station looks nothing like it does now, for many reasons (the original Garden torn down and the elevated Green Line gone, for starters), but back in the day there was a feeling of excitement when we pulled in. The sky was black but the Boston skyline was all lit up, and after exiting the station I'd cross the street to the Green line stop and wait for the subway car that would take me back to my dorm. Causeway Street always looked busy, even if it wasn't. There was also the continuous hum of the freeway above, also long gone now. It was that electric hum that I could hear that was missing from my small town that made coming back to Boston something to look forward to.

Even as I took the subway over to either the "Auditorium" stop (now Hynes) or the Kenmore Square stop--depending on how much I had to lug back to the dorm--I looked forward to coming back. Even if my roommate wasn't there at the time, I enjoyed being a part of the dorm atmosphere again, back to being a part of something. This of course clashed with my feeling of retaining any connection to people back in Athol, but I was convinced I could have both.

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I'm always reminded of those Sunday nights near the end of the year, especially now. For one thing, the view I have looking out our living room windows is very similar to the view I had looking out my dorm window down Beacon Street. For another thing, there's still that "end of the weekend" feeling...where I'm in no rush to get things prepared for Monday, and all I have left to do is relax for the rest of the evening. The dorm feeling of course isn't there, at least not to a large extent (our apartment building is sort of like one I'd have stayed in at Emerson, but I don't really know anyone else here), but there are reminders that I'm in a large city and not a small town.

The music isn't as prevalent as it was back then, being that I've been doing more reading during my much shorter commute than listening to music, but it's there if I want it, on my Zune. And right now the sun is just coming up by the time we leave for work, but it's still up by the time I leave, due to my earlier hours. The commute is definitely different and a lot more crowded as well.

However, there's still that feeling of escape on Friday and the inevitable return on Monday, and for me that's what I still find calming about weekends...it's being aware of them and enjoying them while they're there, and not dreading that they're so short.