Ok so I may be guilty of titling this piece inappropriately since Pele the legendary Brazilian footballer is not dead, as far as I know he’s alive and well and possibly working in New York these days. No, Pele the man is not dead but my I Pod, who I lovingly named after the great man himself is no longer with us...pray silence.
I say he’s dead, I lost him, somewhere between Baker Street and Old Street he has been lost and I fear never to return. I had Pele since I was 17, my black 30G I Pod Classic, bought prior to the video era of Apple, some called him ‘retro’ I called him classic. My reaction when the seriousness of the situation became real was near tears, I was in public so didn’t want to completely embarrass myself but had I been alone I am more than certain I would have bawled like a baby. Friends comforted me claiming if I just get a new I Pod all could be just as it was, but I shook my head solemnly because no, it can never be as it was because the truth is I just don’t know what was on it. Pele was part of my sub-conscious there were albums on there I hadn’t listened to in years, which I don’t even own anymore they got lost between moving houses and lending out to friends who then leave them on the floor of their cars. Pele was a piece of nostalgia, every now and then I would scroll through and smile at the recollection of driving to Skegness after I got my license blaring M.I.A, listening to Is This It so many times I could list the track listing off by heart and knew every word slurred by Julian Cassablancas, dancing to Wham City in my room in my first year of university and Modest Mouse being there throughout.
There was music on there which wasn’t mine, stealing it off computers of friends and ex-boyfriends, stuff that I probably wouldn’t buy myself but it was good to have it there just like the people themselves. I don’t speak to some of them anymore but they’re part of who I have become and will become and now I feel like a little part of them has been lost. This is all rather self-indulgent and melodramatic but growing up in the digital age I’ve attached feelings to playlists instead of mixed tapes, facebook albums instead of photo albums and e mails instead of letters so the loss of an I Pod carried much much more than monetary value. Sure I could rack my brains and get it all back again but doing this feels kind of artificial, cheating almost, like buying all the football stickers at once instead of collecting them and swapping them and trying to fill up the gaps. No, I fear I need to start all over again but I have compiled a playlist in tribute to Pele, the songs which were buried and hadn’t been listened to in years but still remained in my Top 25 Most Played, goodbye old friend....
Played this song a lot, it's perfect girly indie rock and I don't really know what happened to them, I remember being really disappointed when I found out Dorion Cox, the only male member of the band wrote the lyrics.
Silent Alarm was an amazing album and it was my soundtrack to 2005. I was disappointed with their second album and avoided the third after I heard the first single from it on Radio 1 and thought it was some sort of banging dance TUNE but then cried a little when I found out it was them.
Seems overly topical now but I loved Amy's first album Frank, I remember watching her perform this on Jools Holland with just an acoustic guitar, which I can't find online. I feel reluctant to admit that I never liked Back to Black as much as Frank, there was something simple about this album and there was humour to all the songs which I loved.
When I was 15 or 16 my friend Charly and I got the train down to London, on a school night to go and see The Flaming Lips at the Hammersmith Appollo and I think it might still be one of my favourite gig experiences. We were at the front and I was mesmorised by Wayne Coyne like a weird follower of a cult rather than like a groupie. They're still awesome but I don't think I'll be able to go and see them again, the night was just so perfect and exciting there is no way seeing them again will live up to it.
