In the late spring of 1982, as I completed 8th grade, I met one of those kids who is always at the height of cool. But, it was a calm, somewhat cynical, real cool, not the show-off cool of the wealthy socialite kids. It was the Bohemian cool of the Beatnik not contrived cool of the Hippie or the Yuppie.
Except for moments of ecstatic outbursts about an idea here or there, he radiated coolness. He read the Great Books and knew lots of poetry, he worked out in his room (he had the whole upstairs of a late 19th century house to himself) and studied Japanese martial arts, he knew everything about men such as Bill Buckley and Jack Kerouac, he owned the best stereo system of anyone our age, and he possessed an amazing record collection. He was the youngest of a large family, and his parents were much older, pretty much leaving Ritchie to raise himself.
It was Ritchie who introduced so many of us–in a medium-sized town in the wheat belt of the Great Plains–to English New Wave. Growing up a progger–addicted from an early age to Yes, Genesis, and Kansas–New Wave was a bit eye opening for me. It seemed to hold much of the complexity of prog, but it did so with computers and keyboards, often one or two musicians, where prog might have included eight or nine. Ritchie introduced me to ABC, Kate Bush, The Smiths, Oingo Boingo, Tears For Fears, and, most importantly for me, Thomas Dolby.
Not only was I a prog guy, but I was also very much a sci-fi and computer guy. All of this appealed to me. Continue reading “Thomas Dolby’s Golden Age”