Golden Sunsets Redux - 60 Years of Memories - Part 17 - 1983

Something more unusual this time round, as a single album track mixing progressive electronica with a world famous poem is my pick of the year....

1983:

The trivia:

• Commercial peat-cutters were working in the Lindow Moss bog in Cheshire, England when they discovered a partial skull fragment with remnants of hair, soft tissue, brain matter and an eye attached.When the police launched a murder investigation, one man came forward. Long suspected of the death of his wife in 1960, Peter Reyn-Bardt thought it was her body that had been found, so confessed to the crime. When later carbon-dating testing revealed that it was actually from a body over a thousand years old, he tried to revoke his confession, but ultimately was still convicted and imprisoned.

• In the early 1980s, iconoclastic musician Frank Zappa sketched out a business plan for the storage and distribution of music via computer networks. His idea was simple but radical - fans could subscribe to a central catalogue service that allowed them to download high-quality digital albums directly - bypassing traditional record stores and physical media, and ensuring monies would go straight to the artists. Even though it foreshadowed the models later perfected by iTunes, Spotify, and countless other platforms, his vision was dismissed as ‘eccentric’.

• Sixty volumes of journals supposedly written by Nazi leader Adolf Hitler were purchased by Germany's "Stern" magazine for a huge sum, plus the rights were sold to many other publications including the UK's then prestigious "Sunday Times". The hype was enormous. Headlines promised unprecedented insight into Hitler’s private thoughts, and the story was treated as a historic scoop. But almost immediately after the first extracts appeared, experts raised doubts. Handwriting analysis and forensic testing revealed the diaries were crude forgeries, produced by a German conman named Konrad Kujau. It was one of the most embarrassing climbdowns in publishing history. 

The memory:

Rick Wakeman - Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard

Occasionally you just hear a piece of music and something just "clicks" in your brain. After just one listen, that song or instrumental gets stuck there. It's more than an "earworm" - immediately it's lodged deep and you know that you will never ever forget it. Such was the case with the final track on Rick Wakeman's 1983 album "Cost of Living".

Wakeman had been a mainstay of legendary progressive rock band "Yes" during the 1970s and is still widely recognised as one of the best keyboard players in the world. He had branched out into his own highly successful solo projects as well, including a number of concept albums - the most well known being "Journey to the Centre of the Earth", which featured his trademark synth wizardry together with a full orchestra, choir and voiced narration. This style of combing modern electronic keyboards with the spoken word continued throughout his career, but to my mind it's never more perfectly encapsulated than when Wakeman decided to record his version of the poem "Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard" by Thomas Gray.

Published in 1751, the poem is a meditation on mortality, death and remembrance, evoking the spirit of the countryside as the narrator finds comfort in thinking about the lives of the locals buried in the village churchyard. It's considered one of the greatest English poems of the period because of simultaneously being accessible and memorable and yet open to different interpretations. It's also incredibly alliterative and lyrical. No wonder Wakeman chose it.

To be honest I'd never heard of it back in 1983, despite studying poetry at school (blame the Comprehensive system. I do) - so my exposure to this wonderful work and it's musical accompaniment was purely because by chance I happened to be sat watching television one Saturday evening with my parents. Genial Irish broadcaster and TV icon Terry Wogan was hosting his very popular chat show and after Tezza finished gently grilling his latest guest he turned to the camera and announced that it was time for some music. "Here's Rick Wakeman and Robert Powell". My ears immediately pricked up - not because of the bearded maestro's name, but because of his fellow performer...

I'd been a fan of Powell's ever since the landmark TV series "Jesus of Nazareth" back in 1977 where he played the title role with a startling quiet intensity. I then enjoyed his performances in "The Four Feathers" and most importantly in the starring role as Richard Hannay in the 1978 remake of the classic John Buchan adventure "The Thirty-Nine Steps" - a film I have seen many, many times. I loved Powell's distinctive voice, so here was a chance to see him perform something "live".

As Powell began speaking with the first stanza of the poem, Wakeman's music also softly followed:

"The curfew tolls the knell of parting day
The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lee
The ploughman homeward plods his weary way
And leaves the world to darkness and to me"

Just from those four lines I felt there was already a visual sense of twilight falling and the field workers returning home after a long days toil. As the performance continued I was mesmerised - transported to another time and place and totally absorbed in the combination of words and music. But don't take my word for it - listen for yourself:

By the way - the shaky camera footage taken by YouTuber 'Markus Emsermann' is of the churchyard in the village of Stoke Poges, Buckinghamshire where Thomas Gray is meant to have composed his famous poem.

Sure the 80s synth twiddling is a bit overblown at times and perhaps verges on drowning out the words in a couple of places - but you can't deny the power of the verse and the stirring emotions the melding of two different arts invokes. It's a brilliant piece and each performer enhances the other. It took me quite a few years to track down a copy of the album (it's one of Wakeman's least popular solo releases), but since then it's safe to say that I've listened to "Elegy" a hundred times or more and it never dulls.

What strikes me now, looking back, is how unusual the recording was in the broader landscape of 1980s music. Here was a solemn 18th‑century poem given a new life through synthesisers and narration. It’s a reminder that art can cross centuries. I guess it also speaks to Wakeman’s restless creativity - always experimenting with blending classical literature and modern soundscapes.

Both Wakeman and Powell went on to further successes in their respective careers, and actually came together again in 1987 for the double album  "The Gospels". I accept that the keyboard wizard's particular brand of music is not to everyone's taste and that some may find his messing with a classic piece of poetry tantamount to sacrilege. That's fine - each to their own. But although I have heard other versions of Gray's most famous work, both with and without music, this is the one I keep coming back to, and I don't think it will ever lose its influence over me.

Honourable mentions:

• American Flagg! - Often regarded as writer / artist Howard Chaykin's most important and famous work, this was one of the first titles from new independent publisher "First Comics". When  the US government relocates to Mars after a series of worldwide crises, the United States is left at the mercy of mega-corporation "The Plex". Enter former TV star Reuben Flagg, who is drafted into the Chicago branch of the Plexus Rangers militia. Discovering a web of political corruption, subliminal TV messages and plans to sterlise the population, Flagg embarks on a crusade to clean things up aided by a cast of untrustworthy characters and his best friend Raul, a talking orange tabby cat.

• For it's first twelve issues at least, this was my absolute favourite title, way above anything else. The combination of incredible Duotone textured art, adult themes (including my first experience of sex shown in a comic), science fictional setting - and loads of political satire meant that it was unlike anything I had ever read before. After Chaykin dropped off art duties it was never quite the same, but it's rightly hailed as a highpoint of 80s comics and I own multiple versions in various formats.

• Howard Jones - I've previously mentioned that I'd begun to be interested in synthesiser based artists such as "Yazoo", but around this time I got my own keyboard. The was mainly prompted by the appearance of Howard Zones and his particular brand of upbeat electronic pop with the debut of the aptly titled "New Song" in September 1983 followed by the album "Human's Lib". Songs such as "Pearl in the Shell", "What Is Love" and especially the slow ballad "Hide and Seek" were a constant feature of my musical life. I followed Howard's career and bought all the 12" singles and subsequent LPs for the next five years or so. Many are still sitting in a box somewhere and the covers bring back lots of happy memories. The keyboard playing never came to anything though.

• Philip Marlowe, Private Eye - There have been countless version of Raymond Chandler's hard-boiled detective and this TV series from the, then fledging, HBO is not the most famous, but I'd argue that it's up there as one of the absolute best. I came to the show free from any preconceptions as I'd never read the stories or seen any of the film versions - I was just intrigued by the 1930s setting (I guess this was feeding from my growing interest in 'pulp' fiction). Powers Boothe perfectly portrays the moral, laid back sleuth who only uses violence when he absolutely has to. The pace is slow and thoughtful and although it was shown quite late at night, it became appointment viewing for me. The lack of a high quality home media box set is frankly…criminal. 

• Fraggle Rock - Fun, silly and full of memorable songs, this is one of those shows that my whole family sat down to watch. It's my second favourite Henson series after "The Storyteller" and for me at the time combined the best bits from "Sesame Street" (the relatable characters and giant creatures) with those from "The Muppet Show" (the songs and humour). However it did confuse the hell out of me when I saw an American version years later. Where was the Lighthouse Captain? Who was this guy called Doc? The difference was down to Jim Henson’s clever production model - the show was filmed with interchangeable “wraparound” segments so it could feel local to each country. I figured it out eventually, but I still prefer the Fulton Mackay version.

• Was (Not Was) - Born To Laugh At Tornadoes - Although I didn't discover the Was brothers and their various collaborators until the release of "Walk The Dinosaur" in 1987, this second album has ended up being my favourite. Part of the fun is its unpredictability. The Was brothers pulled in an eclectic mix of guest performers - from Ozzy Osbourne to Mitch Ryder -  and the result is a kaleidoscope of styles that somehow still hangs together. It’s one of those albums where you never quite know what’s coming next, but that’s exactly the appeal. Whether it's the pop of "Betrayal", the funk of "Professor Night" or the sheer bizarre jazz sound of veteran Mel Tormé crooning when "Zaz Turned Blue", the whole album is a delight. My friend Neil became obsessed with collecting every version of  "Out Come The Freaks" - of which there are a *lot*.

• White Gold Wielder - by Stephen Donaldson - Not the first book in a fantasy series, but the last, and one of the most anticipated - at least by this reader. It's the finale of the "Second Chronicles of Thomas Covenant" - the exceptional story of the bitter, cynical leper who is transported to the fantasy setting of "The Land" and finds himself cast into the unwanted role of a major combatant in the ongoing battle against "Lord Foul the Despiser" through the use of the wild magic of his white gold wedding ring. Although it has some conceptual similarities to Tolkien's masterwork, Donaldson's character is far more of an anti-hero, often committing terrible acts as he rails against what he believes to be nothing more than a lucid dream. Over the course of the two trilogies Covenant experiences catastrophic, life changing events and battles with internal and external struggles. Ultimately he is redeemed and wins an unexpected victory, but the sacrifices both personally and to those he has come to care for are earth shattering.

• Donaldson's love of language and esoteric description sometimes mean his prose verges on the purple - and his protagonists are often unlikeable. However the power of the story, the imagination on show and the deep themes being explored win through, and the final novel is a wonderful drawing together of the various threads and a fitting conclusion to this most unusual of heroes. I have read and re-read all the books many times and ultimately it influenced me enough that when the time came, I got my own white gold wedding ring. Donaldson penned a four volume "Last Chronicles" between 2004 and 2013, but although I was initially excited (so much so that I went and met the author and got the first book signed), I found that as time went on the series turned out to be a journey too far, contained the worst excesses of his authorial "tics" and sadly delivered a conclusion that I was far from happy with. I prefer to think that the series ended properly with "White Gold Wielder".

• Blackadder -  Rowan Atkinson's best character (even if Mr. Bean has been more successful worldwide). In defiance of popular opinion, I consider "Blackadder II" to be the greatest and the funniest. It’s where the show truly found its rhythm - moving away from the medieval setting of the first series and embracing a sharper, more cynical lead. With its mix of outrageous guest stars, quotable dialogue, and a central character dripping with sarcasm, Blackadder II remains the jewel of the franchise. After all, how can you go wrong with a woman in disguise called "Bob", Rik Mayall as Lord Flashheart (Woof!) and the incomparable Tom Baker as Captain Redbeard Rum ("You have a woman's legs, my lord! I'll wager that those are legs that have never been...",etc, etc"). I love it.

• Jon Sable, Freelance - Another First Comics title (I bought everything they published at one point). This time it's the ripped-from-the-headlines adventures of a bounty hunter and mercenary for hire, who makes money on the side as a children's author. Creator Mike Grell was familiar to me from a few issues of "Warlord" and "Legion of Superheroes" that I caught glimpses of, but here his work reached a new level of sophistication, mixing realistic characters with engaging action - split between the streets of New York and the plains of Africa. I adored his artwork and writing equally, and Grell gave his hero a complex backstory rooted in tragedy and survival. It felt more adult than many mainstream titles of the era, with dialogue and characterisation that carried weight. Nowadays Grell is probably more famous for his lengthy run on "Green Arrow", but it was here that his gritty style developed. The series deserves to be in everyone's collection.

The Colour of Magic - What superlatives can I write about the genius of Sir Terence of Pratchett that haven't been said before? (beyond the brief post here that I wrote when he died in 2015) The Discworld begins here, and although it's by no means his best book (being more of a parody of SF and fantasy tropes), the building blocks of the publishing phenomenon to come are all here. I clearly remember picking up this book from my local WH Smith and marvelling at the cover by the great Josh Kirby, who became synonymous with comic fantasy novels for many years. Sam Vimes is my favourite Discworld lead (harking back to Philip Marlowe perhaps?) but I have always had a soft spot for Rincewind. Without him we would not have had the Luggage, or the Librarian or a host of other memorable characters. My shelves are full of Terry's books and they have brought me over thirty years of pleasure. I wish he was still here able to share his outlook on life with the world.

Golden Sunsets Redux - 60 Years of Memories - Part 16 - 1982

"Know you now of days long past. The time when the world was young. When sorcery thrived and wild adventure was forever in the offering..."

1982:

The Trivia:

• Jackie Chan has always been famous for pushing himself to the limit, but for his 1982 film "Dragon Lord" he went just that little bit further. For a single sequence - a shuttlecock match based on the traditional Chinese game jianzi - Chan reportedly demanded perfection. The scene was a full seven‑minute set piece involving multiple actors volleying the feathered shuttlecock back and forth with their feet, knees, and heads, all choreographed to flow like a martial arts fight. Shuttlecocks are notoriously hard to control, and with so many performers on screen, even the smallest mistake meant starting over. Chan kept the cameras rolling and pushed his cast through take after take after take, until every kick, pass, and reaction landed exactly as he envisioned. By the time he was satisfied, the production had burned through over 1,000 takes.

• When the Disney film "Tron" hit cinemas, it was unlike anything audiences had ever seen before. The studio had poured money into a bold experiment: a film that blended live action with computer‑ generated imagery, at a time when the technology was still in its infancy. The glowing suits, the light cycles, the surreal landscapes inside the computer world - all of it was ground-breaking. It started to look like the future of cinema. But when it came time for the Oscars, "Tron" wasn’t even nominated for Best Visual Effects. The reason? The Academy ruled that 'visual effects' meant models, matte paintings, and optical tricks - the traditional crafts of Hollywood. So using computers was “cheating". How little they knew...

• "Casablanca" is arguably one of  the most famous movies in the history of film. In 1982 freelance writer Chuck Ross devised an experiment. He retyped the script of "Casablanca", changing its title to "Everybody Comes to Rick's" (the title of the original play). He also amended  the name of Rick's sidekick from Sam to Dooley (after Dooley Wilson, the actor who played that character), and submitted it to 217 agencies as a script supposedly by an unknown writer, "Erik Demos". Ninety returned it unread. Seven never responded. Eighteen scripts apparently got lost in the mail. Thirty-three agencies actually recognised it. However, thirty-eight agencies claimed to have read it, but rejected it because they thought the script was not good enough.

The Memory:

The Sword and the Sorcerer

All kids of a certain age will remember their local "video shop". Much like comic book stores full of back issues, video rental shops had their own particular smell, their own ambience. Cheap carpet tiles, an ancient looking television set, the 'adult' section shoved ungainly in a rack in the corner. If films were your drug of choice, the guy behind the counter was your dealer.  I'm not talking the glossy, brightly lit branches of a "Blockbusters" - these were the places that some village entrepreneur decided to open up to provide surrounding residents with VHS copies of the latest Hollywood movies (along with a tiny sample of Betamax format films before that format died an unloved death).

You have to understand that in the 1980s (in the UK at least) it could take up to five years for a film to make it's way from the cinema to the three terrestrial channels (Channel 4 didn't start until November of 1982). If you didn't get to the two screen Odeon or single screen ABC cinemas in the nearest town, that was it in terms of seeing the film until BBC 1 showed it at Christmas or Easter. Sure home taping had begun to take off as the price of video cassettes tumbled - by this point I was regularly recording "Doctor Who" and a whole host of other things off of the television - but *new* films? -  the video shop was really your only option (unless you had access to "pirate" recordings, often from a man driving around honking his car horn and then opening his boot to show the few meagre cassettes he had available. (I vaguely recall getting to see an appalling copy of "E.T." this way).

The thing is, local shops didn't have the cash to buy many copies of the same film. If you were very lucky they would have two or three of a brand new title, but more often than not there would just be a single solitary plastic box on the shelf in the "new releases" section - and that would obviously be missing too if someone had already rented the cassette. You could hang around in the vain hope that someone might return the film while you were there, or be told by the proprietor to pop back in a couple of hours on the off chance that the current renter returned it on time. Either that or choose a different film to watch.

(My local video shop after it had closed. That parish office used to be a betting shop!)

My local video emporium was where I first got to see teen sex comedies such as "Porky's" and "Screwballs", classics like "The Blues Brothers", action films like "First Blood" and horror fare such as"Alien" (naturally I had to get my dad to rent those ones!). This was before the infamous Video Recordings Act of 1984 which saw a whole host of titles classed as "video nasties" and banned. Softcore porn sat side by side with titles like "Driller Killer" and "I Spit On Your Grave". There would always be a copy of "The Warriors" or something starring Chuck Norris - plus a plethora of weird and wonderful titles that you had never heard of but whose cover illustrations and blurb on the back enticed you in. "Rent me" they pleaded. "I'm not crap, honest".

The early 80s was when "sword and sorcery" movies hit it big. We'd had the wonderfully cheesy "Hawk The Slayer" at the start of the decade, followed by "Dragonslayer" and "Excalibur". 1982 was dominated by the Arnold Schwarzenegger starring "Conan The Barbarian", but that wasn't my favourite. Not even Marc Singers "The Beastmaster" came close. No - the 80s best S&S movie by a country mile was aptly named "The Sword and the Sorcerer".

Okay, so anyone seeing the film for the first time will clearly realise that it's a *bit* of a rip off of Conan. The young child protagonist who sees his family killed by an tyrannical invader and vows revenge - growing up in exile to be a muscly rogue mercenary. The evil wizard with his own agenda. The scantily clad beautiful women. The rampant violence. Even that poster above could have been ripped from a Frank Frazetta book cover. So far, so cliché.

But the thing that sets "The Sword and the Sorcerer" above many of it's contemporaries is that - much like the Dino De Laurentis "Flash Gordon" -  it never takes itself too seriously. The hero Talon is witty and intelligent (if rather boorish) and more in the mold of the swashbucklers of the early days of cinema, rather than the hulking brute who just uses his strength. He's also refreshingly honest - agreeing to help the rebellion against nasty Titus Cromwell not for gold or power, but because it will gain him a night of passion with the lovely Alana. The company of "heroes" bicker amongst each other, and it's this kind of knowing, wink-at-the-audience, "yeah we know it's a bit cheap but it's a hell of a lot of fun" attitude that makes the film so entertaining. It also had a lot of influence on later entries in the genre. You can probably trace a (wobbly, meandering) line from here to the "The Princess Bride" five years later.

I can't talk about Talon without mentioning his sword - after all it get's top billing in the film's title. This is not just any normal broadsword. It has three blades, two of which can be fired at the opponent via some sort of compressed air technical doohickery. Plus it has another knife hidden in the hilt. Back in the day I thought this was one of the cleverest things ever. Utterly impractical and you never see Talon having to go and retrieve his blades by yanking them out of someone's skull, but hey, it's still mightily impressive. It's also enchanted apparently, though how and by whom is never explained as far as I can recall.

So what about the Sorcerer then? Well his name is Xusia of Delos and he's a particularly ugly looking specimen - but then so would you be if you had been entombed after using banned dark magic and then resurrected centuries later by Titus Cromwell's pet witch! Xusia aids the evil ruler in finally conquering the kingdom of Ehdan  - but his reward is a literal knife in the back and he flings himself off a cliff, while Cromwell goes on to consolidate his stranglehold over Ehdan across many years. It's a swift end for one of the supposed main characters you might think.

But after Talon and his friends have fought Cromwell to a standstill, there is a massive twist towards the end of the film, as the kings sour faced adviser Count Machelli - standing in plain sight all the time - reveals himself to have been Xusia in disguise all along, and with plans to take control of the kingdom himself.

"He's a sorcerer" you might say. "Of course he can use illusion to conceal himself". Ah, but it's not the fact that Xusia was camouflaged that is the memorable moment from this movie - it's how he reveals himself. Machelli *literally* tears his own head in half, slime oozes everywhere and the hideous visage of the sorcerer struggles free of his meat-suit. It's one of those images which you never forget. Visually impressive in a film which had such a small budget, but also genuinely disgusting. This is the part that all my school friends talked about when news of what a great film it was started to spread around the classrooms.

After this stunning revelation. the final battle features lots of clashing swords and gritted teeth plus further triple blade action and more hidden weapons than you can shake a Cimmerian at. Cromwell get his just deserts, Xusia is finally killed (twice) and Alana is saved from a huge snake between her legs. Yes this film is also full of incredibly thinly veiled innuendo. Following a night of celebration, feasting and not forgetting sex with the princess, Talon rides off into the sunset with his band of mercenaries.

"Watch out for Talon's next adventure - Tales of the Ancient Empire - coming soon" we were promised. But despite keeping an eye on the video shop shelves for the next few years, it never materialised (apparently it was eventually released a staggering 28 years later in 2010, with a totally different cast and only a cameo from Talon. I've never seen it. One reviewer's comment was that it's only redeeming quality was that it was laughably short. Ouch.)

Overall then "the Sword and the Sorcerer" is camp, low budget, has some terrible dialogue and some even hammier acting. But it's full of fun ideas, great action, visceral special effects, blood and gore (Talon is even crucified at one point) and some mild nudity. What more could a teenage boy have wanted? Its "don't care" attitude and word of mouth about how enjoyable it was meant it became a cult classic, not just amongst my friends at school, but also in the wider world. It made near ten times it's original budget and was the most successful independent film of the year.

Having looked at the home media version for the film that is available now, I see that it is rated 18 in the UK - which makes me wonder how on earth we were allowed to rent it back in 1982. I know that the clampdown was not in place for another couple of years but even so, this was not a film that my parents rented for me - I just went and picked it up of the shelf. Perhaps I just looked older than I really was. It's decades since I have seen it, but this look-back just *might* make me search out an old DVD copy on eBay...


Honourable mentions:

• Star Fleet - Not many of us recall this science fiction puppet series, but those that do have fond memories. As far as I know, it was only shown the once on Saturday mornings at the end of 1982. But this was not a Gerry Anderson show (no strings here) and for most children was probably their first exposure to some of the prevalent themes of Japanese anime. It featured a 24 episode long story arc, huge spaceships weird aliens, an ancient looking sailing ship in space and of course the heroes craft combining together to form an awesome giant robot - the Dai-X. We had never seen anything like it before. The UK version is also justly famous for the great theme tune which was later covered by Brian May from "Queen". I have the DVD box set around here somewhere, and really should give it a watch to see if it lives up to that nostalgic glow. Now if I could only find those comic strips from "Look-In" magazine...

• The Dark Crystal - Another fantastical story featuring puppets, but a far cry from "Star Fleet". Jim Henson and Frank Oz’s "The Dark Crystal" is something entirely different: a mythic fantasy that treats puppetry not as comedy or children’s entertainment, but as a vehicle for epic storytelling. What strikes me, is how surprisingly adult the themes are. This isn’t a cosy fairy tale. It’s a story about corruption, balance, and the fragility of existence. The Skeksis, with their grotesque decadence, remain unnerving even decades later, while the gentle Mystics embody a kind of melancholy wisdom. The film casts its spell from the very first frame, pulling you into a dreamlike universe that feels both ancient and timeless. I must have watched it dozens of times over the years, and each viewing reminds me how singular it is - the combination of Henson’s ambition, Oz’s direction, and Froud’s designs creating something that doesn’t really have a peer. For many years my real hope was that the film remained a standalone work of art, untouched by sequels or reboots. Yet surprisingly, when Netflix released lavish prequel series "Age of Resistance" in 2019, it wasn't blasphemy. It combined modern puppetry with digital effects to  deepen the lore, introduce new Gelfling clans, and give the Skeksis even more grotesque detail. I loved it just as much.

• The Young Ones - The anarchic show about four university students which launched the careers of Rik Mayall, Adrian Edmonson, Nigel Planer and (to a lesser extent) Christopher Ryan. After "Not The Nine O'Clock News" had finished earlier in the year, this became my favourite comedy programme and it's where I first came to adore the genius of the late Mayall (although I had seen him the year before as Kevin Turvey on "A Kick Up The Eighties". It was full of cartoon violence, surreal non sequiturs, offensive talking puppets, subliminal flash frames and didn't so much break the fourth wall as smash through it with a sledgehammer (or probably Vyvyan's head). Plus a live band performance in the middle of each episode. For teenagers growing up in the 80s, this was *our* show. The critics hated it, the grown up's didn't understand it, but we could quote whole reams of dialogue. It changed the face of television comedy forever.

• Yazoo - Upstairs at Erics - The first album by synth-pop duo Alison Moyet and Vince Clarke. They were the first band I really followed - and I remember having a disagreement with my year-older cousin because he dissed them in favour of the supposedly cooler "The Jam". The combination of Clarke's synth driven melodies and Moyet's soulful voice, along with the experimental nature of some tracks was a revelation to me and the LP was never off my turntable after I saw them perform "Don't Go" on "Top of the Pops". Years later an acquaintance with his own band revealed that they had auditioned Moyet for the position as lead singer, but had turned her down for not being good enough! 

• Warrior - I only came across this most important of British comic publications by chance while browsing the shelves of a newsagent. The first issue cover with the maniacal, cleaver wielding cyborg Axel Pressbutton proclaimed "He's back!", even though I had never heard of him - and by this point I thought I was pretty knowledgeable about UK comics (but not music magazines clearly). Nowadays of course Pressbutton is more of a footnote, because the anthology is famous for launching the twin Alan Moore juggernauts of "Marvelman (Miracleman)" and "V For Vendetta". My brother and I used to fight over who got to read the issues first and I met editor Dez Skinn several times either at comic marts or by visiting him at the "Quality Comics" shop in South London. As well as the Moore strips with incredibly art from Garry Leach, Alan Davis and David Lloyd, I also enjoyed the medieval demon slaying of "Father Shandor" , although that might have been due to the voluptuous females drawn by John Bolton. I never did quite understand "The Spiral Path" though...

• The Belgariad by David Eddings - A five volume fantasy series that takes many of the standard tropes of fantasy and deals with them in new and interesting ways. Prophecy and destiny are active forces, magic follows strict rules and the pantheon of local gods are real, taking direct action on the world. Eddings was adept at writing interesting and lovable characters and in the enigmatic Belgarath and his daughter Polgara he created two of fantasy's most memorable sorcerers. Yes it's a quest story and, yes by today's standards the plot might seem predictable (it's being marketed more for young adults now I think) but you want to spend time with these people - it's not just the destination but also the journey that counts. Sequel series "The Malloreon" expands on the world and follows many of the same story beats, but that's directly acknowledged in the plot as the hand of prophecy forcing things along. Two other single novels complete the 12 book saga by telling background and historical details from alternative viewpoints. Good fun and a great start for someone into the fantasy genre.

• Eagle comic - I knew the title. I knew that the famous 50-60s version had featured the legendary adventures of the original "Dan Dare" (plus I'd loved his adventures in 2000 AD). but the revival was something different. Dare was there in the centre colour spread (well his great-great grandson) but surrounding him were photo strips across a wide range of genres. Robot action in "Manixx". Police adventures with "Sgt. Streetwise". Cowboy scrapes with "Saddle Tramp". Most popular of all though was "Doomlord" - the tale of an alien race judging humanity and sending an envoy to destroy us all. Despite only having a rubber mask and a few meagre special effects, John Wagner and Alan Grant managed to tell an exciting and scary adventure and kept introducing new fresh elements. I really liked the new Eagle but to be honest I still preferred the hand dawn comic strips such as "The Tower King" and "House of Daemon" (especially as both featured the stunning art of Jose Ortiz) and eventually the comic switched all the stories back to artwork. It never supplanted 2000 AD in my affections and I stopped buying it somewhere around issue 150 in mid -1985, but those early issues contain a lot of wonderful stuff.

ZX Spectrum - Without any doubt, one of the most important home computers in the history of gaming. The sheer innovation, enjoyment and legacy of  Clive Sinclair's little 48K home computer cannot be underestimated. Suffice it to say that for a period of time the humble "Speccy" became the dominant thing in my life (and those of my friends). I spent hundreds of hours typing in code, visiting computer fairs, reading magazine reviews, buying peripherals and playing a vast number of the thousands of games available. It was incredible what could be accomplished with a mere 48K of memory. You only have to mention "Jet Set Willy", "Daley Thompson's Decathlon" or "Knightlore"  and I go misty eyed with nostalgia. Forget Microsoft, Sony or Apple - the ZX Spectrum made home consoles and video games what they are today. I still have the same machine stored away (although it's not been turned on in years). There will further mentions of the rubber-keyed wonder in later posts - relating to a specific innovative game...

We're All Stories In The End 17 - Conundrum

I love it when we get a good mash-up...

Conundrum by Steve Lyons

Seventh Doctor Adventures number: 22

Originally published: January 1994

Companions: Ace & Benny

"Doctor, we're talking about an old man who used to dress up in a skintight white jump suit and fly around New York catching super-villains. Don't you think there's something just a bit unusual about that?"

A killer is stalking the streets of the village of Arandale. The victims are found one each day, drained of blood. And if that seems strange, it's nothing compared to the town's inhabitants.

The Seventh Doctor, Ace and Bernice think they're investigating a murder mystery. But it's all much more bizarre than that. And much more dangerous.

Someone has interfered with the Doctor's past again, and he's landed in a place he knows he once destroyed. This time there can be no escape.                                    

I'm going to keep this short, and state this from the off - I *loved* this book.

I mean sure, I figured out that this was a return trip to the Land of Fiction pretty early on. But the execution of that idea, and the fun that Lyons has along the way is what makes it such a joy to read.

And because it's the Land of Fiction he can get away with pretty much anything.

It's not tied to one genre. We get Enid Blyton parody, world-weary former superheroes, Chandler-esque detectives, satanic rituals, serial killers and witchcraft - and it all works together brilliantly. And the presence of the "Writer" as the narrator means the book is self-aware - it knows all the typical Who clichés of cliff-hangers at the end of chapters, miraculous escapes from certain death and continuity errors - and revels in them. 

But what's also key to the success of the novel is that the silliness is balanced with real moments of character development and sadness - even though you know that pretty much every supporting character isn't real. Yes I know strictly speaking, none of it is real, but you get my point.

Benny and Ace actually get stuff to do and their conversations both together and apart give real insight into their feelings. Ace admitting her anger at the Doctor's manipulations  - and how she wants to beat him at his own game - was an important moment, even more so because she shared it with her travelling companion first. And Benny's care for Norman Power really shines through, right up to his terrible, tragic end.

If I'm honest, It's the best I have seen them both written for quite a while.

If I have any criticisms, its that the story strand with the "Adventure Kids" didn’t seem to have much point, beyond a perfectly good homage. Although I did like the continual problems with Carson the dog and his ultimate fate - it made me think of the infamous "Five Go Mad In Dorset" by the Comic Strip, which is never a bad thing.

But that's a minor quibble amongst so much stuff to like - 

• The TARDIS becoming a gingerbread cottage.
• The life-sized game of Mousetrap.
• The Doctor's conversation with the Master of the Land via a Scrabble board.
• Explaining the power of "Meanwhile…."
• The brilliant line - "This time I want the real McCoy".
• John and Gillian, the Doctor's "real" "Grandchildren" from TV Comic
• Mentions of the Kleptons and the Trods, also from the comic strips.

I'm guessing that the author might also be a DC comics fan with characters named Corrigan and Shade. But the *really* deep cut comes with an appearance from the mechanical Dredlox - who appeared once in an early 80s issue of  - of all things - "Power Man and Iron Fist". 

I imagine Lyons had a *lot* of fun writing this,

I rattled through the book very quickly, which is always a good sign. I wouldn't want every Who novel to be this madcap, but it's refreshing to have it every now and again.

It'll be a good long while before we get to another Steve Lyons book - "Head Games" I think ?

If it's as good as this one, then it's really something to look forward to.

Golden Sunsets Redux - 60 Years of Memories - Part 15 - 1981

A complete series of SF novels is the focus this time - ones which captivated me as a young teenager and deserves to be up there with the best of the genre...

1981:

The trivia:

• In 1809, in the middle of the Napoleonic Wars, the local council of Huéscar in Grenada, Spain  decided to declare war on Denmark. And then… everyone forgot about it. Completely. For 172 years, Huéscar was technically at war with Denmark, though nobody in either country seemed to notice. No soldiers were mobilised, no shots were fired, no casualties recorded. Life in Huéscar carried on as normal, while Denmark remained blissfully unaware that a town in southern Spain had them on its enemies list. It wasn’t until 1981 that someone stumbled across the paperwork in the town archives and realised. By then, of course, the whole thing was ridiculous. So the mayor of Huéscar invited the Danish ambassador to a formal ceremony, and the two sides signed a peace treaty. After nearly two centuries of “conflict,” the war ended with handshakes and a round of drinks.

• Roger Fischer, a professor of law at Harvard suggested a unique idea to deter the use of nuclear weapons - put the codes in a capsule and implant it next to the heart of a willing volunteer, who would always carry a large knife. In order to use the codes, the President would have to kill the individual with his own hands -  confronting the reality of taking a single life before ordering the deaths of millions. Fischer reasoned that it was a way of forcing empathy into a system designed to be cold and mechanical. Needless to say the Pentagon didn't go for it, citing that it would "distort the President's judgement"...

• The late 1970s and early ’80s were a golden age for niche record labels, and none were more mischievous than Stiff Records in the UK. Known for their cheeky marketing and punk‑era irreverence, they specialised in turning music into satire. One of their most notorious releases was an LP called "The Wit and Wisdom of Ronald Reagan". The joke? Both sides of the record were completely silent. Buyers got a glossy LP sleeve, a disc with grooves, and absolutely no audio. And yet, the gag landed so well that the record sold more than 30,000 copies. 

The memory:

The Saga of the Exiles by Julian May

After a brief dalliance with a couple of SF stories in the early 1950s, Julian May became  a prolific non-fiction writer, penning thousands of science encyclopaedia entries and over 250 books for children. So effectively she was a brand new author when I came across "The Many-Coloured Land" - the first in the "Saga of the Exiles" - in my local bookshop. The unusual cover and the premise of a group of time travellers going back to ancient Earth only to find that it was already occupied by aliens intrigued me enough to buy the book. What I never expected was that the story would be much more complicated, thoughtful and wide ranging - would expand to cover a further four volumes beyond the original quartet - and would become one of my favourite SF series of all time.

So here's the plot. By the late 21st  / early 22nd century, three hugely important things have happened to the human race and society on the planet:

• Time travel has been discovered. However the time gate only works in one French location and back to one time -  six million years to the Pliocene era. It's also just one way - any attempt to travel back to the "present" ages the traveller (or any organic object) instantly to death.

• Various individuals have emerged  as "metapsychics" - possessed of mental powers strong enough to manipulate energy or objects, coerce others to do their bidding, communicate telepathically and heal mental illnesses. 

• After being under surveillance for centuries, Earth has had an "Intervention" which introduced it to the wider galactic community and a number of equally psychic exotic alien races, which are together striving for mental "unity". A faction of humans opposed to this idea - and with a view to making humans supreme -  fermented a "Metapsychic Rebellion". It waas a conflict which resulted in a horrendous loss of life across the galaxy, but was narrowly defeated.

Despite the advances of humanity and the expansion into the galaxy, there are still those who want to escape the modern world. A steady number of misfits and outcasts use the time gateway to try to start over in the simplistic world of the Pliocene. All technology that will not decompose after a hundred years is banned from being carried back and all females are sterilised to prevent the contamination of the past.

The saga begins as a fresh group of "exiles" prepare to travel through the gate to a new life. However the Pliocene world that awaits them is not the pastoral utopia they expected. Instead it is already inhabited by two evolutionary branches of a metapsychic alien race - the beautiful, tall Tanu and the short, ugly Firvulag - who are engaged in a centuries old war. Having fled their own galaxy, they were marooned on Earth when their living spaceship crash landed. The Tanu have enslaved most of the previous human settlers through the use of various metal torcs around their necks and use them as workers, battle troops and breeding stock (female sterilisation has been reversed) - and to assist in their constant battles with the Firvulag, which culminate each year in the "Grand Combat". The torcs also enhance any latent metapsychic powers of the wearer.

What follows is an epic science fiction, meets fantasy, meets super-powers series where the exiled humans begin to vastly influence and change the dynamic of the aliens endless conflict. Via the power of the Golden Torc, various individuals find themselves in possession of enormous mental abilities. Some like trickster Aiken Drum want to take over, while others like the unstable Felice are driven mad and seek to destroy the society the Tanu have built over the centuries since their arrival.

In the third book ("The Non Born King"), May introduces the survivors of the Metapsychic Rebellion who fled into the Pliocene, and the efforts of their leader and the Galactic Milieu's strongest mind, Marc Remillard, to escape his prehistoric prison. Marc's family don't necessarily see eye-to-eye with him on all his plans and this conflict adds another layer into an already large cast of characters.

The clash between the various factions of "exiles" mounts to a crescendo in the final volume when allies, friends and families turn against each other and the fate of both the ancient and futuristic worlds hang in the balance. I'm incredibly reluctant to reveal too much detail about the plot as experiencing it fresh for the first time is really the best way. Suffice it to say that there are plenty of twists and turns before all the players reach their final destinations. May also offers tantalising glimpses of background characters and past (or is that future) events, fleshing out the societies and races involved.

Like some modern celebrated authors (George R.R. Martin coms to mind), May is hugely adept at mixing multiple points of view, political infighting, human relationships, huge battle scenes, intricate plotting and life changing events. Although much of the world building has its roots in Celtic mythology and religious symbolism, it never feels anything less than fresh and exciting and there is a real cross-genre feel, which meant the storyline appealed to all of my interests.  I remember impatiently waiting for each book to come out, and along with "The Chronicles of Thomas Covenant", this was a series which I read and re-read in my teenage years, each time getting something new out of it. Part of me thinks that it would make a great multi-season TV series, but then again, perhaps it's best that these characters live vividly in my imagination instead of watered down on the screen.

After the end of book four ("The Adversary"), May released "A Pliocene Companion" - a reference guide to the world she created, along with maps, author interviews and discussions on the sources that provided inspiration. It's certainly not essential to read it to enjoy the books, but it does offer some interesting background details for real fans.

She than followed up her epic with a further four book story that, although more pure SF in flavour, is both prequel *and* sequel to the original saga. The massive single volume "Intervention" details the history of the Remillard family and the events that lead up to the Great Intervention where the alien races inhabiting the galaxy reveal themselves to the population of Earth. The subsequent "Galactic Milieu" trilogy - "Jack the Bodiless", "Diamond Mask" and "Magnificat"" moves forward forty years and tells the story of the Metapsychic Rebellion. It fills in much of the backstory only hinted at in the original quartet, reveals many secrets, and in the end loops everything back very neatly to the events of the Pliocene Exile (just look at the mirror image in that final cover).

I really would consider Julian May to be one of the great science fiction or fantasy authors and as a complete eight book sequence (or ten books if you count the "Companion" and split "Intervention" in two as some versions have) it's an incredible inventive and enjoyable piece of work that must have taken meticulous planning across more than a decade of writing. It's amazing how things referenced in the last novel tie back to those in the first and vice versa.

Sadly May seems to have been largely forgotten about in the modern era, but she is well overdue discovery by a new generation of readers. Although it's been quite a while since I last re-read it - and I wonder if my much older self would get quite the same thrill now as I did back then - the "Saga of the Exiles"  still remains one of those series which expanded my horizons on what could be accomplished in a genre novel.

Honourable mentions:

• The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy - When people talk about "Hitchhiker’s", they could mean the novels, the LPs, the stage show, or even the video game. For me though, it was the BBC television series that really lodged itself in my memory. I’d already devoured the original radio episodes when Radio 4 re‑broadcast all twelve in one go, but seeing Douglas Adams’ universe brought to life on screen was something else entirely. Yes, Zaphod’s second head looked clunky, and Marvin the Paranoid Android’s costume now feels like a relic of early ’80s design. But those quirks aside, the production nailed the casting and atmosphere. Simon Jones as Arthur Dent was pitch‑perfect, embodying the baffled everyman caught in cosmic absurdity. David Dixon’s Ford Prefect had just the right mix of charm and alien detachment, and Mark Wing‑Davey’s Zaphod carried the swagger even if the prosthetics didn’t. What truly captured me, though, was "The Book". The hand‑drawn animations, paired with Peter Jones’ wonderfully dry narration, were exactly how I’d imagined the Guide itself. They gave the series its unique texture - witty, informative, and slightly surreal. No amount of 21st‑century CGI can match the charm of those sequences, which felt like a perfect extension of Adams’ humour. 

• Shock Treatment - "Rocky Horror" casts a long shadow, which is probably why its semi‑sequel is so often overlooked. It never quite caught the same cult lightning in a bottle, but for me it’s just as much fun - and in some ways even sharper. Where "Rocky" was a gleeful send‑up of B‑movies and sexual liberation, "Shock Treatment" turns its satirical eye on television culture, consumerism, and the creeping influence of media on everyday life. The songs are a big part of why I love it. “Bitchin’ in the Kitchen” is a masterclass in wordplay, rattling off domestic frustrations with tongue‑twisting glee, while “Little Black Dress” bursts with sheer exuberance. They’re tracks that demand you sing along, and I often do. Richard O’Brien’s knack for mixing camp, satire, and genuine musical hooks is on full display here. The film’s reception was mixed, and it never achieved the midnight‑movie status of its predecessor, but that doesn’t mean it should be dismissed. I was lucky enough to see the first-ever stage production during it's limited run in London in 2015, and I wrote more about the film and that show here. Sneak preview: it was *really* good.

                             

• An American Werewolf in London - One of the first horror films I can remember renting on VHS from our local video shop. It wasn’t the snarling werewolf transformations or the gruesome killings that unsettled me though. What really creeped me out was David’s dead friend Jack, who kept reappearing in ever more decomposed states. Each visit was darker, funnier, and more grotesque, and it lodged in my memory far more than the monster itself. John Landis’s film is often remembered for its ground-breaking transformation effects, but for me it’s that mix of horror and black comedy that makes it endure. The way Jack keeps turning up, cracking jokes while his flesh rots away, is the perfect example of the film’s tone: unsettling and absurd at the same time. And then there’s the cameo that always makes me smile - the much-missed Rik Mayall, tucked away in the Slaughtered Lamb pub. It’s a blink‑and‑you’ll‑miss‑it appearance, another big reason why this film gets on the list *.

• The Antipope - The first novel by humourist and "father of far-fetched fiction" Robert Rankin. it also launched the increasingly mis-numbered "Brentford Trilogy" - a sprawling, eccentric series starring anti-heroes Jim Pooley and John O'Mally, here drinking and womanising their way through a surreal adventure against Pope Alexander VI, last of the Borgia's, and his attempt to take over the world (or Brentford at least). I was lent the book by a friend originally and although I found it interesting enough, it wasn't until the early 90s when Rankin's career really took off that I truly appreciated what a gloriously book it is. Much like early Terry Pratchett, the seeds of the great writer to come are all present here:  the absurd premises, the sly humour, the sense of community. The running jokes, old traditions and charters and art of "talking the toot" are still to come, but the foundations were already there.. There really is no one like Rankin out there and it's a damn shame his output has decreased in recent years.

• Ka-Zar The Savage - Another of my early Marvel comics titles and one of the first to go down the "direct market" route of distribution in speciality comics shops. This Tarzan analogue, with his trusty pet Zabu the sabre-toothed tiger and girlfriend Shanna the She-Devil, was a completely unknown character to me until the new series was released -  but the combination of writing from Bruce Jones and fantastic art from Brent Anderson soon put it to the top of my reading list. The first dozen or so issues are the best, dealing with the discovery of the hidden land of Pangea, the descent into a version of Dante's Hell and the battle against the demon lord Belasco, whose presence adds a darker, more supernatural edge to the series.  I lapped it up, and to be honest, I don’t think the character has been handled as well since. Later iterations never quite captured the same mix of pulp energy and philosophical undertones. For me it remains a perfect example of how comics can take a character you barely know and turning them into a favourite through sheer storytelling.

* Rik Mayall has a slightly more substantial appearance in another film on this list. Can you guess which one ?

Golden Sunsets Redux - 60 Years of Memories - Part 14 - 1980

We move into a new decade, I become a teenager, and an album featuring the *other* composer with the initials JW becomes my favourite of the year...

1980:

The trivia:

• The Rhinoceros Party were one of the most famous satirical political movements in Canadian history. It was founded in 1963 and became particularly well-known in the 1970s and 1980s for its absurd campaigns. They often ran candidates who promised to resign if elected. In the 1980 federal election, they received over 1% of the popular vote, despite promising to: repeal the laws of gravity, build taller schools to provide 'higher' education, count the 'Thousand Islands' to see if the Americans stole any, and tear down the Rocky Mountains so Albertans could see the Pacific sunset.

• Photographer Robert Landsburg spent many weeks photographing the Mount St. Helens volcano in the lead up to it's catastrophic eruption. When the mountain exploded on 18th May, it unleashed a massive ash blast moving at hundreds of miles per hour. Landsburg was only a few miles from the summit and realised that he would never escape the rapidly advancing cloud. Winding his camera film back into it's case to protect the images he had already taken, he placed it into his backpack and then lay on top of it in attempt to protect the contents from the intense heat. Seventeen days later his body was found buried in the volcanic ash. Remarkably the film was recovered and successfully developed, and the images provided valuable scientific insight into the eruption and its immediate effects.

• In 1980, IBM introduced the first ever hard drive with a capacity of 1 gigabyte. It weighed an astonishing 226 kilograms, was the size of a refrigerator and cost nearly £ 18,000 (around £80,000 when adjusted for todays inflation). It used a large cabinet and required special cooling and power systems. For comparison, a modern microSD card costing less than £50 can hold 1 terabyte (1,000 GB), weighs less than a gram and fits in your pocket.

The memory:

Sky 2

No, not the now-defunct television channel from the Murdoch media empire, but the second album from the quintessential classical / prog-rock "supergroup".

Sky were formed by the coming together of five musicians at the top of their game:

• John Williams - one of the most acclaimed classical guitarists in the world, probably most famous for "Cavatina" - the theme from the movie "The Deer Hunter".

• Herbie Flowers - former member of "T. Rex" and recognised by many as one of the best bass players in the world. He appeared on albums with Elton John, David Bowie, Cat Stevens and Paul McCartney, and also played the prominent bass line on Lou Reed's "Walk On The Wild Side". Plus he worked with Jeff Wayne on his musical version of "War Of The Worlds".

• Tristan Fry - a drummer and percussionist on (amongst many other things) the Beatles "A Day In The Life" and the timpanist for the "Academy of St Martins in the Fields" chamber orchestra. He also played at the wedding of Prince William and Kate Middleton.

• Kevin Peek - an Australian guitarist who for many years was part of Cliff Richard's regular backing band, alongside session work for Manfred Mann, Lulu, Tom Jones and Shirley Bassey He also played on many film soundtracks.

• Francis Monkman - founder member of pioneering psychedelic band "Curved Air". He was an accomplished harpsichord player and a fan of free-form musical composition techniques.

Williams, Fry and Flowers had been friends since the early 70s when they had performed together (along with others) on Williams' non-classical release "Changes". They stayed in touch over the years and when Francis Monkman joined them on the 1978 album "Travelling", they realised that they wanted to set up their own full-time cross-genre band, combining pop, classical and rock elements. Recruiting Kevin Peek (fresh from working with David Bowie), the quintet was complete, and Sky released their first self-titled album in 1979. It combined versions of well known classical pieces along with original compositions by Monkman and Flowers. With much critical acclaim, it quickly reached gold record status and sell out concerts at the Royal Albert Hall and the Dominion Theatre followed.

With their mix of genres, styles and instruments (they were the first to combine acoustic and electronic instruments in such a way), Sky appealed to a wide breadth of music fans. People who traditionally would not listen to classical music found themselves drawn in by the rock interpretations. Classical enthusiasts attracted by the Williams name enjoyed the more free-form original material. 

I was completely unaware of this success though. While I had a growing interest in pop music, I also really enjoyed instrumental albums. The disco-style versions of classic film and TV science fiction themes by Geoff Love were some of my favourites. Plus as I've already documented, Jeff Wayne's "War of the Worlds" was a passion, and hardly off my turntable since it's release. However, I had been too young for the peak years of the prog rock explosion  - and as for classical music? Well up til now, 99% of that left me cold, as it seemed to be the stuff for ancient granddads who liked listening to the eternally dull BBC Radio 3.

Then, on an episode of "Top of the Pops" in May 1980, I saw Sky perform the track that became their most well-known and successful single - "Toccata". This was an arrangement of Bach's famous "Toccata and Fugue in D Minor", but with the usual organ and orchestra replaced by synthesizers, frantic drums and electric guitars. Now this was classical music I could get into to! They also seemed to be having a lot of fun, perhaps hardly able to believe that they were on the BBC's flagship pop music show with a single that eventually reached number five in the charts. See for yourself:

Intrigued by the performance, I ambled along to my local record store in search of more music by the band, and there, still in the top 10 was their second album "Sky 2" - a double LP no less. Thankfully I had enough money saved up from doing odd jobs around the house that I could afford to buy it. I took it home eagerly, opened the gatefold sleeve and placed the first vinyl record on the turntable. And now my musical education really began...

The first record is made up of original Sky compositions - and some lengthy ones at that. Jeff Wayne aside (and that's a special case I think), I was more used to the more traditional three or four minute pop /  novelty songs of my early childhood. The jaunty "Dance of the Little Fairies" was fairly brief, but two tracks ("Hotta" and  the Arabic-influenced "Sahara") were around seven or eight minutes long. What's more, the fourth, "FIFO" - a four movement ode to computer programming no less - took up the entire B side, effectively one seventeen minute prog rock opus. That was my first real exposure to this kind of thing, and I immediately fell in love with it.

The second LP began with live novelty favourite "Tuba Smarties", showcasing Herbie Flowers and his brass instrument. I'm sure I recall seeing Herbie perform this on later occasions, dressed as a kind of gnome, his tuba bedecked in multi-coloured fairy lights. Following that were several fairly traditional versions of classical pieces from Praetorius, Rameau and Vivaldi, before Mr. Fry had his own turn with the percussion focused "Tristan's Magic Garden" ( I particularly like the use of the vibraphone) and John Williams worked his Spanish folk magic on "El Cielo". The final side saw Sky's own take on the Curved Air barnstormer "Vivaldi" before the wonderful twelve minute "Scipio", that allowed everyone to get in on the action. The closing track was of course "Toccata".

Okay, so maybe it's true that the music was not going to set the world alight or create a cultural revolution - and maybe it's true the five members (apart from Monkman with his long hair) looked like the kind of respectable people your grandma might approve of, but for some reason their music really spoke to me. Millions of others obviously agreed because "Sky 2" was immensely popular, topping the charts - and the band made regular appearances on television. I had friends at secondary school who were also into the band, and we regularly talked about our favourite tracks.

The other thing that made the album stand out was the fact that it had liner notes from all the members of the band (another first for me), talking about the pieces and the music they had written. These were written in a jokey style, gentle taking the mickey out of each other and it really felt like Sky were connecting with the audience. On weekends I read these brief notes while I played the two LP's over and over again at as loud a volume as my parents would allow.

Sky's popularity continued to grow and their 1981 tour culminated with the first ever rock concert performed at Westminster Abbey in celebration of the 20th anniversary of Amnesty International. It was recorded and shown later as a special programme on BBC1, and I remember watching the show, as it was the first time I had seen Sky live in proper concert mode, instead of on something like "The Val Doonican Show".

By this point Francis Monkman had left the band, after becoming unhappy with the direction the music was going in (and is on record as being particularly acerbic about my much-loved “Scipio” on “Sky 2”, refusing to ever play it live). He was replaced by Steve Gray, a very active and well-regarded session musician pianist and arranger. He would go on to play a big part in the band’s future endeavours. 

The Westminster Abbey concert was also the first time that many tracks from the new third album were played to the public - and Grays involvement moved them away from the more psychedelic sound of some of the music on the first two albums. A tour of the UK, Europe and Australia supported the release. I’m pretty sure I bought "Sky 3" as soon as it came out and there are some great compositions  - the barnstorming “Moonroof” and ”Westwind” are particular favourites. I did play it regularly, but for some reason it just didn't feel quite as important to me. It seemed that my brief passion for the band was beginning to fade. 

Amazingly Sky kept going until 1995 through various line-up changes, but they never repeated the kind of mainstream success of their early years, and I never bought any of the subsequent LPs. I think part of it might have been that my tastes were expanding and changing - and I had discovered the electronic musical genius of Jean-Michel Jarre when a friend lent me his copy of "Magnetic Fields".

But that's another story...

Honourable mentions:

• The Adventure Game - The immensely popular 'science fiction' game show where celebrities had to solve a series of puzzles to get back to Earth, and clearly the inspiration behind "The Crystal Maze". Most people now seem to remember it for the "Vortex" game at the end where contestants could be evaporated  - which actually didn't come in til series 2.  I personally liked the more cerebral tasks such as figuring out which of the "Drogna" shapes could be stood on based on a scientific mnemonic, the backwards talking Argonds ("Doogy Rev") or having to use a creaky BBC Micro to negotiate a pitch black maze. The "Den of Geek" website has a lovely look back at the series here. Wonderful stuff which finally got a DVD release in 2017.

• Flash Gordon - As much as I adore the black and white Buster Crabbe serials that were endlessly shown on early morning television during school holidays, the 1980 Dino De Laurentiis rightly sits there alongside them. Yes it's tongue in cheek, but pretty much everything is perfect - the casting, the visuals and not forgetting the Queen soundtrack. It's cheesiness it part of the charm. Brian Blessed has spent the rest of his career bellowing two words at the world with great relish and try and find a heterosexual teenage boy who didn't have indecent thoughts about Onella Muti as Princess Aurora...

• Cosmos - By rights this ground-breaking science series should have run away with my personal memory top spot for 1980. It's thirteen peerless episodes affected me in ways that have reverberated down the decades and I learnt so much from Carl Sagan that I wish I had had the chance to meet him and thank him for all that he did for me. When we talk about personal heroes, Carl Sagan's name is in the top three. The amazing journeys into outer space echoed the wonder I felt the first time I saw "Cosmic Zoom" - and that was without the electronic beauty of the music of Vangelis. I've bought the music soundtrack, the accompanying book, the original and "special edition" VHS videos, and the DVD's (twice). I never get tired of watching it and Sagan's opening narration is ingrained on my brain forever. So why isn't it up there instead of "Sky 2"? Well partly that's because, as I've stated before, I'm trying to pick things that are slightly different, and partly because "Cosmos" is *so* important both personally and culturally that it deserves much more space devoted to it. It'll probably have to wait til much, much later, but I want to look back at each episode separately and in detail. Something to look forward to then...