Growing up in the ‘80s you had to have a picture of how the world was before to understand how weird that decade was.
It took a long time for me to look back at my teenage years and literally gasp and no, not just for my haircuts, for what were the weirdest ten years of my life and for the whole of humanity for that matter. By the end of the ‘70s, the world had had enough of wars, dictatorships, bell-bottom pants, and social rebellions with all kinds of extremist and/or colourful movements. It was as if someone pushed a button and said OK, enough is enough, let’s try another route, let’s experiment, mix everything up and see what happens.
Suddenly there was relative peace in the world, societies began to prosper, cash was flowing, and people had the time, the energy, and the money to do just that, experiment. The world was suddenly a giant lab, with crazy looks coming out, life-threatening hairdos, flashy vehicles and furniture and all kinds of excesses.
Music became a whole new playground for artists in the West. Disco fell out of fashion and was replaced with new electronic sounds and styles such as New Wave, Break Dance and Hair Rock. Suddenly the concept of war was confined to the bitching amongst the fans of Duran Duran and Culture Club.
And I was there, living it, and loving every moment, keeping track of every single piece of music that was coming out like there was no tomorrow.
Midway I came to a crossroads when I was forced by my mates to make a potentially life-changing choice. You’re either rock or pop, dude. You can’t be both. I got it. They were two different cultures and the packages included specific vocabularies, outfits, hairdos and places you would hang around, especially in the wee hours of the morning. Of course, I had to go with rock and heavy metal, not just because I was into it, but you didn’t want to be a wuss. Not in the ‘80s.
It was at that crossroads when a friend introduced an artist that would change the way I viewed and listened to music up until then. And since then, he is up there with my music legends and legendary groups such as Bob Dylan, Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, Elvis, Queen, AC/DC, Iron Maiden, Simon and Garfunkel, Bruce Springsteen, Rey Charles, Black Sabbath, Fleetwood Mac, Guns N’ Roses, REM, Louis Armstrong and others on my relatively short list.
Yes, it didn’t take me long to add Chris de Burgh to my Hall of Fame.
In a scenery blinded by neon lights and bubble gum one-hit wonders, crazy dudes with bleached hair and pink lipstick thrashing their heads off, and a heavy overdose of Madonna and Michael Jackson, there comes this guy, dressed as the civil servant dad who lives three blocks down the road, eyebrows like bricks from a Pink Floyd song, who effortlessly got my attention with his massive talent.
At first, I didn’t quite know what to make of it. Neither pop nor rock or anything I was accustomed to by that time. But it captivated me. His unique voice, his poetic lyrics and timeless sound had an immediate and profound effect on me. Atmospheric with gothic places and images, his songs swept me like… a hurricane.
The Spanish Train, Crusader, Borderline, Patricia the Stripper, The Revolution, A Spaceman Came Travelling, Lonely Sky, Fatal Hesitation, Where Peaceful Waters Flow, Suddenly Love, Just Another Poor Boy, Man On The Line, Lady in Red… I still have a hard time choosing my favourites, the Chris de Burgh universe had won me over in a heartbeat.
From then on it was only uphill. I gradually learned to appreciate fine sound and lyrics and started to explore all sorts of genres leading up to my love for classical music, to the point where my friends give me the look when in the same breath I go from Iron Maiden to Rachmaninov.
And when Chris de Burgh came to Cyprus for a one-night show a couple of weeks ago, as you can imagine I couldn’t have missed it for the world. So what if he’s 75 and he can’t quite hit the high falsettos? So what if he came without a band? It was just him, a guitar and a piano. He is still my hero, my mentor, my legend who appeared like a travelling spaceman who came with a ship from afar, twas light years of time since his mission did start… and saved me from the confusion and mediocracy of my youth in the ‘80s.
Yes, I was there, front row, when he first came to Cyprus in 1992, and I’m still cheering for him… light years later. Because some things remain constant in an ever-changing world. As they should.
