For me, the years 1987-2003 cover the transition from youth to maturity. I should write a book about it – only I shouldn’t, because it would be the same as a million other people’s lives.
The ‘nineties were such a calm time in retrospect (unless you were in the Balkans or central Africa). The OJ Simpson trial kept us gripped for weeks. What did happen? For me … found a job, found another job. Found a girl, married her. My team got relegated. Bought a flat, then a house, then another. Bought a car, then three more (not all at the same time). Had three children, two of them at the same time.
This is so startlingly generic as a life story that I’m going to stop there before I tell you about where I went on holiday or the food that I ate. After the towers came down, things got more tense, maybe. But not at a personal level – not for a white privileged male, that is.
Meanwhile, the music. I tried hard not to lose touch and, by and large, succeeded. The movements that were popular I wasn’t that keen on – grunge, Britpop, alt-country even (thank you, Uncut). But there was always plenty going on at the margins. I’ve tried to represent what was happening, but, then again, not really. No Oasis. No Coldplay. No Gipsy Kings.
