Girls Against Boys

Things I could do when I was a kid:
Drink litre upon litre of fizzy pop without feeling the slightest bit sick
Impress girls, and boys, with computer gaming prowess
Watch cartoons without anyone scoffing at my Saturday morning viewing habits
Eat bucket loads of sweets without fear of dental disaster
Fall over, hurt myself and not care
Ride my bike down a hill really fast without fear of doing the above
Live without paying for rent, food, bills, anything
Play football until it got so dark I couldn’t see past my nose

Now what is there? Nothing but shit. I have to pay bills, lots of them, every single month. I can’t play computer games ‘cause I no longer understand them (nor do my attempts impress anyone). I can’t eat sweets or drink pop ‘cause my teeth are bent like a picket fence erected by monkeys. I can’t watch cartoons without my girlfriend laughing at me. I can’t fall over without gashing my leg open, usually when playing football, which I can no longer do until it gets dark ‘cause my eyes have aged at a rate disproportionate to that of the rest of my body. All my friends live miles away. My siblings pass the time in a small town bereft of excitement. Then again, I’d give this town up to go back… sometimes.

Pointless nostalgia maybe, but it brings me to my point: music somehow sounded better when you were younger, another thrill that’s dulled with years. Even the most mundane AOR sounded powerful and exciting in the ears of an inexperienced 13 year old. Sure, new bands still fill me with joy, but there’s something about hearing Nirvana, or even REM, for the first time that can never be bettered. Of course, what I wasn’t doing in 1993 was listening to the bands that would have made me too cool for school in 2005. Yes, I was listening to the usual suspects, but I wasn’t listening to Girls Against Boys.

The New York outfit came together when I was but ten, and their powerful, pop-informed rock ‘n’ roll has seen them sell out shows ever since. Tonight is no different: the Underworld is packed. Granted, it’s not the same line up that produced Nineties Vs Eighties back when I was busy crying over a Chris Waddle penalty, but the quartet still pack punch enough to keep all in attendance – even newcomers like myself – utterly enthralled. ‘Cruise Yourself’ sits beside my record player at home, rarely removed from its sleeve. After tonight, it’ll spin on a weekly basis, at least. I don’t own ‘Cash Machine’, from 1996’s House Of GvsB, but once some hard ca$h lines these pockets (after paying those bills… meh) I’m straight down the local record emporium.

‘BFF’ is a more recent number, culled from 2002’s You Can’t Fight What You Can’t See (Jade Tree), but it sits pretty in a set of older, pre-Millennial efforts. The band’s back catalogue is such that tonight’s hour-or-so set doesn’t even scratch the surface; the depth of GvsB’s quality beyond that of so many other acts still ‘Kicking The Lights’ since way back. Tonight is an education, a rarity not experienced since the days of sweet eating and pop guzzling.

I stand by my initial remark: things were better when I was a kid. But they could have been better still…

Thanks to Brad and Jodie.