Review Summary: More than once upon a time...
So this was released in 1978 on par with their other opus magnificus (I don’t actually know, whether that is a real word… should have probably used magnum opus, but whatever). I was born in 1975. Everyone has their own album that they know was their ‘first album’. That one thing you’ve heard first in its entirety and loved all throughout. To me it was this record. The caretaker of the orphanage I lived in for most of my early childhood had it on a bootleg cassette and played it almost all the time. My life has been closely intertwined with this ever since. And I would like to share a handful of moments this album followed me in. I should warn you, some of them aren't all that pleasant.
In Australian lower class the socially moral situation is rather different. People were and still are far from decent to one another. Nobody holds anything sacred. Most of my friends and acquaintances come from screwed up, criminal, drugged up, orphaned background. So at some point my sister, my best friend turned brother, Lynch, and I decided to flee the utter filth of the places we were growing up in until this point and go to the big city. I won’t name the city we were from, because I don’t want to insult anyone and I believe myself to have experienced only the ***ty part of it. Anyway, in 1986 we packed our ***, I stole a couple of cassettes and a cassette player from the caretaker and off we went to Perth. I was 11, my sister was 15, and Lynch was 16. Looking back at it, the orphanage and the caretaker himself weren’t that bad, it’s just that rotting in that place was not something that either of us could take. Besides, the caretaker wasn’t exactly all that caring a person. When we disappeared, I don’t think anyone went looking for us. We didn’t encounter anything of sorts anyhow.
At the age of 14 I lost my virginity with a girl named Nimmy. I asked for her real name, but she didn’t reveal it (though I think I’ve heard someone call her Alice at some point). She was a “skilled fighter” at that point, but I was confident enough a lad, so I picked the setting, music and made all the moves. We, the runaway-trio, got ourselves a place to stay for about a year in a nameless social centre above Geoff Rimmer’s bar. Can’t remember for *** what it was called, but we would help out a lot in the bar and around. Nimmy would hang around those places too. Usually, the place was visited only by its Stammgasts. She was older than me, probably 16 or so. Similar background, similar story. I got a jumpstart on the fact that she thought I was sweet and cute (***ing jackpot!), so I once offered her to come upstairs and hang out in my room. She agreed. I put on the very same old, slowly deteriorating, stolen bootleg cassette of
Eternally Yours and once the chilling groove of “A Minor Aversion” kicked in, it happened.
In 1995 at the age of 24 my sister passed. Because she led a rather quiet, isolated lifestyle of never hanging out with the same people twice, her funeral was rather vaguely attended. It was me, Lynch and the duo Jim and Fred, the only outsiders she allowed into her inner trust circle. We buried her and because none of us were exactly the grieving types, we just said our goodbyes to the young old cunt that she was, admitted to ourselves that she will be missed and went off to a pub we usually hung out at in those days. There, we put on already an official vinyl copies of The Saints’
(I’m) Stranded and
Eternally Yours. Lynch and I sold all of our sister’s possessions, including the vast collection of Metal cassettes that I am sure she either stole or sucked someone off for. On the revenue from it and on the money we have been collectively saving up, we ran to England. One way ticket and goodbye you old greasy, overheated oven that is Australia.
New Year’s Eve 1995-1996, London, I met Opal, the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life. I already was quite a fearless overly confident, yet utterly unambitious type, so without hesitation or even a proper reasoning I came up to her and confessed what I believed to be true. She found it to be quite amusing. We got chatting in a café. Knowing there was a New Year’s celebration in a punk club nearby, I invited her over. We stayed for a bit, observing a horde of drunk youngsters and a ridiculously tuned-out band trying to play songs that each sounded the same, until they decided to cover, much to our surprise, first “Psycho Killer” by Talking Heads and then “This Perfect Day” by The Saints. Quite unsurprisingly, the covers were atrocious. Opal and I both agreed that it’s probably better to go off and listen to the real version of both of those songs. We did that. We went back to my place and listened to all of the records I had, but this one was the first. We chatted through the whole night. Didn’t even notice that the midnight fell and it was a new year. Amidst the ceaseless chatter, we decided that we detest the monotony of life, even though I was quite grateful for actually having a steady job and a place to live at that point. We decided to go out there and explore the world, spontaneously, holistically, directionlessly. We did that afterwards for quite a while, we would go out into the world and see something new, by ourselves, explore new worlds, learn new cultures, not shy away from interacting with whoever we meet. Then we’d meet up, share stories and live together for a couple of months, until separating again and go on another solitary adventure. But that is a story for another time. As of now, as the first order of business we would get married that same night, because why the hell not. After all, we can always get a divorce. And we did. We somehow managed to find the only working bureau at 9AM on January 1st and that was it. We went back to the place, where the decision was made and I put on (you guessed it)
Eternally Yours with the opening driving blasts of “Know Your Product”. And the rest is history… (well, it’s history to me, you have no ***ing clue)
Interestingly enough, in spite of my love for it during my childhood and the importance it played all throughout my life, I noticed myself forgetting about it later on. I never listened to their last three records until a couple of years ago. For a good chunk of 21st century the band in general was off of constant rotation. I only accidentally stumbled upon this record about a year ago and went on a madman’s binge through all of their discography. The memories this album brings, the feelings it evokes, the importance it bears. No less significant in to my life as the rest of the band’s initial trilogy of albums, but still the first one that arrived there and the first one to stay.
