New Wave Diaries Volume 2

Words like violence
Break the silence
Come crashing in
Into my little world
Painful to me
Pierce right through me
Can’t you understand
Oh my little girl

All I ever wanted
All I ever needed
Is here in my arms
Words are very unnecessary
They can only do harm

Vows are spoken
To be broken
Feelings are intense
Words are trivial
Pleasures remain
So does the pain
Words are meaningless
And forgettable

Enjoy the silence.

- Depeche Mode, "Enjoy the Silence"

Yesterday was shaping out into a the confines of boring, as i canceled my real appointments, hoped for unexisting ones, then realizing the fuitility, opted to stay home and entrench myself with war movies and some Nachos. I was looking forward to a nice night of badminton, but Nel had to cancel last minute, as she was overwhelmed with work. You've got to take the bitter from the better, so to provide her with some semblance of comfort, i whipped up some battered pork chops, breaded wings, hot and sour soup, and two frosted glasses of cola. And i ressurected an old book in preparation for a long sleepless night.

Fortunately, an old friend showed up at my doorstep last night, with half a case of booze and the traditional potato chips. Of course, the rules of hospitality prevailed, and i had to let the poor guy in.

We started with dinner and while sizing each other up, watched a round of Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy on etc. There was even a category last night that "Ends in ICE." I swear, i would've been a rich man way back if they had these kinds of game shows here. I tried calling the hotline for Who Wants to be a Millionaire before, but luck was never on my side when it cames to random selections.

Binoy brought his Depeche Mode DVD, and i had an inkling on how this night would end. However, i got turned off by Dave Gahan's gyrations that suggested more of Marilyn Manson rather thanDavid Bowie or Iggy Pop. So I suggested we get into the game.

So in between the usual male bantering that comes with the potent mix of beer, fried animal flesh, and potato chips, we were able to successfully complete part two of our ongoing ultimate New Wave quiz.

It goes like this: i put on my New Wave mp3 collection, and he tries to identify the artist and the title. No wagers, nothing at stake. Only your reputation as a hardcore, real life, true-blue New Wave child of the 80s.

Previously, we pretty much ended so-so with volume 1 (A to R, hey i have a big collection!!), but mainly because we were more focused on getting drunk then. This time, i was expecting him to be more ready...

I must say i was pretty impressed, as he was able to distinguish The Railway Children with the Sisters of Mercy and was right there with the Church, the Cult, and the Call. He got into trouble separating Suzanne Vega from Sinead O'Connor, owing to the remarkable similarity in voice (at least in O'Connor's pre-pope bashing years), and had to listen to the chorus of some of The Smiths singles to get the title, but i guess the effect was complete.

The flood of 80s pap and angst brought back warm memories of high school, and reminded me of the times when the worries i endured had nothing to do with saturday nights, money or the opposite sex. It was pretty much basketball, forthcoming exams, who's gonna be this afternoon's king of billiards, and the electronics project that i'd have to do twice due to my inevitable clumsiness.

during my 4-year stint, i had to buy a soldering iron kit twice cause i invariably destroyed the heating element on the first purchase when i pulled out what i thought was a stray thread, had to buy i new IC for my running LED lights project as i combed my hair and charged the original with enough static electricity to render it useless, and ruined a couple of silk screens. Oh yeah, i also ran a couple of technical pens into the ground, staining a couple of white shirt pockets in the process.

The funniest episode was the string project, where you drive nails into a board and then wind colored strings to make some geometrical project. No sensitive parts, no complex procedure...right? Just wrap them strings tight, i don't care how...How can i miss an 85 or 90 grade?

Easy: put the project, plus a hammer, a bath robe, sandals (they're all for a class play - don't ask!), in your bag. Then look for some girl who just faked a sickness, and volunteer to take her home. Hey, it was the badge of coolness back then, so i did.

I thought i entrusted the bag to my mates, but upon return, nobody had any idea where the hell it went. Same conclusion, i had to buy the project materials twice. And i didn't even get excellent grades.

--
As we wound down to the last few chords of Xmal Deutschland, the beer had already taken full effect, as i think my ground floor toilet flushed itself every 5 minutes.

We were steeped into New Wave, and we all took it in -- the music, the words, the artists, and the general angst that came with having a troubled soul during the time of greed. two decades later, we became greedy ourselves, and we worry more about tax rates and the rise in gasoline and parking fees rather than what makes you complete.

But all those worries take a back seat once you hear the Soup Dragons, the Violent Femmes, the March Violets, the Wild Swans, and all others. They magically bring you back into a world where black is cool, and pop is dead.

i woke up at 10am today, with scarcely a hangover. Nel mentioned I was in a shouting match last night, and heard me muttering something about "Life's hard, forget about the bitterness of life," while Binoy kept shouting "Hang the DJ, hang the DJ, hang the DJ!"

I guess 80s music can do that to you.

Viva New Wave!