Wednesday, January 31, 2001

I have a ticket to see Soft Cell.

I still can't quite believe this. You see, I grew up in South Africa where, due to the cultural boycott, no band with any political savvy would ever tour. So I never got to see the two bands I loved most: Blondie and Soft Cell. And when both bands split up in the early 80s, I knew I never would. When I came back to live in the UK in 1995, I had a list of bands I simply had to see before I could die happily: Prince, Pulp, Kirsty MacColl, U2. I saw them all. And Marc Almond, solo, many times. But obviously, not Blondie, not Soft Cell.

And then... the lure of money brought Blondie back in 1998. I was there, at the Lyceum, screaming like a 15-year-old. It was as brilliant as I had always known it would be, and it fulfilled one of my life-long dreams. I had finally, somehow, seen Blondie. Now if only Soft Cell would reform, I could die happy...

They have. I can.

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