I was in my own house, actually — a run down, early 1900s pile that was a brothel prior to my two roommates and me moving in. We paid $67 each for rent and played basketball at night to get warm enough to appreciate the cold shower. We couldn’t afford to turn on the gas, but there was always money for records.
My roomie brought this one home and announced that it was the former members of Bauhaus before dropping it onto my turntable, and then the three of us danced like idiots. If there is one joy that I wish for all people, it is not the end of poverty or hunger, nor is it the eradication of disease. Nope. My one wish is that everyone could experience the immense joy of dancing without concern for how they look. That’s perhaps the greatest single thing that happened in the ’80s.
(If you learned anything from the previous paragraph, it is that I probably shouldn’t be entrusted with the power of one wish.)
Seventh Dream of Teenage Heaven is 30 now, which means I must be a little older, too. Want to know more about this landmark album? Read all about it on Diffuser.