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Ahahahahahaha!

Why is this girl laughing? Surely being unemployed and having my car stuck in the body shop would have my all kinds of grumpy.

Oh, yeah, guess I should at least pause a moment to explain that one. Impulse seized by the neck and dragged me to go to the First Annual Cabbagetown Arts Festival. Unfortunately, Impulse saw fit to send me on a route that had me discovering that my tires really needed to be replaced and I trust my brakes far more than I should when it is pouring down rain. (Hey, we've had a drought, I've been out of practice.) Long and short of it, the front of my car had a forceful meeting with the back of a Toyota occupied by two nice Indian ladies and a little girl, nobody was hurt, everybody was cool, but Doris (my car) came out looking a little crumpledy in the front. Doris also wound up needing a jumpstart because I left my lights on while waiting half an hour for the cops to show up. (The day did manage to improve from there, honest. The festival, such as it was, served as a nice way to commemorate and move on from the tornadoes that blew through the neighborhood one year ago that day. It also allowed me to form clearer and less traumatic memories of the Millhouse Tavern than the last time I was there. We'll not get into what happened, except to say that whatever issues I managed to work through that night allowed me to listen to The Police without feeling stabbed by emotional pain for the first time in a while.)

I'm still laughing, though. I'm laughing because Duranies do stupid things and I finally figured out just how stupid.

Gather round, kiddies, and let me tell ya a story. Back in the old days before we had internets, we traded obscure tracks using primitive devices called cassette tapes which were sent back and forth through the postal service. The rarity and quality of the tracks acted as a kind of currency that determined the value of what you were providing and, to a degree, how cool a Duranie you were. I don't recall a great deal of quid pro quo in the system--quite a few tracks were just sent to me because, I don't know, people liked me and stuff. But some people had a sense that if you were going to send a tape out, you needed something 'equivalent' back.

This is a long preamble to point up to this particular absurdity--somebody was so desperate for something to trade, or street cred, or cool points or whatever that she chose to distribute faked Power Station tracks.

azewewish and I had our suspicions when we first heard them. They were purportedly demos, sung by Andy Taylor, for two songs that never made it to the album--"Lock It Up" and "Tingle". The singer did indeed sound kind of like Andy, but the music sounded something like a cola commercial. Brenda locked herself in her room with the tracks for a while and eventually concluded that upon closer sonic examination, whoever was singing, it weren't no Andy Taylor. There was also the puzzling question of why demo tapes would have turntable crackle on the fade of each song. The latter item was apparently explained by Somebody Who Heard From Somebody that the tracks in question had been pressed to some kind of 'test vinyl' and that John Taylor, in a fit of pique (he was pissed off at Andy or something) had handed a copy of this to J. Random Duranie and thus it entered the bootleg stream. This set off my Bullshit Detector with loud clanging sounds, and I suspected that the tracks had been culled from the recording of an entirely different (but sufficiently obscure) artist because somebody decided the singer sounded enough like Andy to pass for, um, something.

The question had lingered at the back of my mind ever since. If my hypothesis was correct, then who the hell was it? I recently brought up the matter on the DuranDuranMusic.com messageboard. (Why am I still there? I get a certain demented glee from it, I suppose.) Somebody mentioned that a friend of his had, in fact, identified the band in question. So a few Google Searches later and I came across . . .

World Sitizenz. Manhattan Records, 1985. Side A, "Lock It Up", Side B, "Tingle".

Bingo. Unsurprisingly, not a hell of a lot of info about these folks. I did a search and found a promo photo that someone had up for sale. Check it out if it's still out there--it's hilarious.

So now I blink awake in the middle of the night and ponder the Questions of the Universe, at least one of those questions, finally, has an answer.

Today I took pleasure in a cup of flavored coffee on the way to the unemployment office.

Today I learned that the range of MARTA extends further up Roswell Road than I'd realized.

Comments

( 6 comments — Leave a comment )
azewewish
Mar. 18th, 2009 02:39 am (UTC)
DUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDE!!! I can't believe you solved the mystery!!!

I feel a little bit better knowing that we were right all those years ago. *glee*
wonderbink
Mar. 18th, 2009 02:49 am (UTC)
Oh, there was a huge "eureka moment" when I found that page. I'd say 'you have no idea' but I bet you, of all people, would have an idea of what it was like to finally figure it out.
azewewish
Mar. 18th, 2009 02:58 am (UTC)
Of course! I mean, it was a total (for us) scandal back in the day. Who made up this tape, why, who was the band, what happened, etc. Good stuff, yo.
(Deleted comment)
wonderbink
Mar. 18th, 2009 03:51 am (UTC)
The only thing that could have made it more satisfying was if we'd somehow been able to bust this chick back in the day. As it was, all we had were suspicions. Strong suspicions.
moonwych
Mar. 18th, 2009 03:26 am (UTC)
Sorry to hear about your car, but pleased that you're doing ok.

I must have been totally out of the loop (of course I lived in AR, I think my best friend and I were the ONLY ones in our high school that liked DD)I had no idea that people did that back then.
wonderbink
Mar. 18th, 2009 03:55 am (UTC)
My tape-trading days were actually mid-college, rather than high school. Liberty came out, nobody was promoting it to our satisfaction, we starting writing angry leaflets and sending them to fanzines and it kinda snowballed from there. Crazy times.
( 6 comments — Leave a comment )