Mythical pasts.

Last week I had this beautiful (well to my mind) blog half written about my first band. We were called Mythical New Underground. The whole idea behind it was to tell everyone about the role of punk and music in my teenage years ( a recurring theme), the way in which music taught me about politics and history and more importantly it was going to be about the friendships at the heart of that band that endured for a long time after the band ceased to be. There were the practices we had, mainly in a garage in Newbridge, sometimes in an old wooden shed, a few times in a sitting room and once in a friends kitchen. The excitement of making out a song and the unbridled joy of writing one made us all feel like kings. The nights spent at parties talking about the meaning of Anarchy, the freedom of the individual, the state of the world and the corrupt politicians that ran it were all part of the education. Writers like Orwell and Rimbaud were bandied around. Lyrics of bands such as Crass, AOS3, Subhumans, The Scum of Toytown were dissected. Local bands like Little Sally’s Dead, The Haggard, Genital Mishap, Sumerian Cry, The Buzzers, Sleeping Village, The Malenky Bits and The Zimmermans ( to name a few) were bands that should have, at the very least, made a decent EP but never really got the chance. Filthy jokes and smut, buckfast, cider and cigarettes mixed together with teenage hormones and righteousness made for a great era of my life (we were meant to do a tour of England supporting one of our favourite bands, alas it never happened).Underpinning it all was the friendships. There was for a time that all I wanted to do was to be famous but it didn’t last long. And as much as I loved playing and being part of music and the music scene to be honest when the gigs faded the friends I made were always more important.
So, that was the blog I was going to write. The Mythical New Underground gigs faded years ago (except for a one off gig that we held to celebrate the singers 30th there is a YouTube video of it floating out there somewhere) our one and only demo: Newspeak remains largely unheard and all but a very few even remember us. None of that really matters. How many bands go the way we went? Millions. It is no great tragedy. The real tragedy of Mythical New Underground is the friendships ended ( well all bar one). The friendships survived the break up of the band,one of the band members emigrating and coming back, my mother dying, relationships coming and going and the usual trials and tribulations that people experience in life. In the end it was music that drove the wedge between us, how ironic is that eh? As Yeats once wrote ‘Too long a sacrifice can make a stone of the heart’, as usual that auld Sligo seer of the soul was right. C’est la vie.

  1. Brilliant. I love it. It’s very reminiscent of many aspects of our lives when the glue that held many together just seems to disintegrate and fade away. It’s sorrowful and yet mature like each day’s twilight so all I can say is that with each twilight comes the beauty of the night and it’s stars and planets, invisible during our day but there all the same. (Don’t know why I said this but it seemed fitting somehow)

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