How Dream Pop Once Saved My Life

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go behind the gates whenever I choose.As more songs tenderly embraced me I asked about the band. John handed me the tape case so he could concentrate on driving. I memorized the cover and the name Cocteau Twins. After arriving home and settling into bed I made a pact with myself to pick it up as soon as possible.Shortly after my musical awakening I boarded a bus for Canada. This was the one and only class trip I ever took, and the only time I have travelled outside of the U.S. I didn’t leave this continent, but Canada in the late 80’s was still another world.We departed Elkhart, Indiana for a very long chartered bus trip to the Stratford Festival in Stratford, Ontario. A loose assembly of students would enjoy a couple days in a foreign land watching Shakespeare performed live. My usual depressive self spent the majority of the bus ride sleeping, or listening to tapes in my trusty Sanyo “Walkman.”As if junior high doesn’t suck enough it was double for me. I believe I could have easily been diagnosed with clinical depression, but because my mode was self-destructive rather than the outright rebellion my older sister had adopted, I slipped under the radar. For years I lacked connective friendships. If I recall correctly the trip to Canada took place in my junior year of high school. By then I had a best friend, albeit a manipulative one, and actual friends in the high school I attended. My religious attendance at “Greg Allen’s” was essential to my self-esteem. It was a safe space where bullying rarely occurred.I remember wanting the chance to be outside the confines of the US. I know it was a motivating reason to go on the trip. Something about leaving this country guaranteed a shift in my life.In-between the lavish productions we would explor

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e the city, eat in fancy restaurants, and hang out at the hotel. Not surprisingly, while wandering on free time, we found a record store. Inside this plain shop with the standard record displays I quickly located the Cocteau Twins. To my surprise there was a full selection, but due to budget and a great desire to hear the music from that auspicious night, stuck to buying only Victorialand on tape.There are few memories that I can access as easily as the one where I was flipping through the tapes in that record shop. It’s there, right along side the glowing faceplate and knobs that controlled John’s car stereo. There are many bits of time glued to the sound of the Cocteau Twins all over the scrapbook of my mind. Their music makes me feel as fresh and excited as the first time I heard them nearly thirty years ago.<figure id="4c27"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/1*GNEgUF6z5Nd8PCTLGpAQOA.png"><figcaption>image courtesy of <a href="undefined">Kayt Molina</a></figcaption></figure>This piece was written as part of the Art Swap Collaboration.Other pieces in this series include:<a href="undefined">Jessica Jungton</a> https<a href="https://readmedium.com/a1d5ae7909a6">://medium.com/p/a1d5ae7909a6</a><a href="undefined">Ernio Hernandez</a> <a href="https://readmedium.com/9c1ec8cac51">https://readmedium.com/9c1ec8cac51</a><a href="undefined">Jing Jing</a> https<a href="https://readmedium.com/ecdef41f88a6">://medium.com/p/ecdef41f88a6</a><a href="undefined">Kayt Molina</a> <a href="https://readmedium.com/one-night-i-fell-in-love-f1e086990f4e">https://readmedium.com/one-night-i-fell-in-love-f1e086990f4e</a>I created the art for <a href="undefined">Jing Jing</a>’s piece:</article></body>

How Dream Pop Once Saved My Life

A community of “The Rejected” straight out of Suburbia, we converged at “Greg Allen’s Off the Strip” every Friday night in Mishawaka, Indiana. Alternative Night was a triumphant space for New Wavers, Punk Rockers, Skaters, Goths, Artists, and Queers to smoke, sneak alcohol, and unite in teen angst.

Greg Allen’s was originally a chain restaurant that served pizza and a show. Animatronic animals had once supplied the music for this now teen driven dance club. The décor consisted of what remained from the restaurant which included the wood dance floor. Everything about this place was minimal except our enthusiasm.

I couldn’t get there without a ride nor could I get home. I haven’t a clue how I arrived that Friday night, but John agreed to take me home after a long night of dancing. Home was about a half hour to forty-five minutes from the club. Plenty of time to pop in a tape, and enjoy the object of our bonding.

The one sound I will miss at death, the one band I have collected through my entire adult life, met my ears for the first time. Often labelled “Dream Pop” the Cocteau Twins’ sound is unique to say the least. What greeted me in the car that night was their album Victorialand.

After the chaos of hormonal teenagers, being soothed by a quiet, passive tempo snapped my mind into place. As the first song on the tape unravelled I learned that music could still me as much as it could heal me. This is what heaven is like and I can go behind the gates whenever I choose.

As more songs tenderly embraced me I asked about the band. John handed me the tape case so he could concentrate on driving. I memorized the cover and the name Cocteau Twins. After arriving home and settling into bed I made a pact with myself to pick it up as soon as possible.

Shortly after my musical awakening I boarded a bus for Canada. This was the one and only class trip I ever took, and the only time I have travelled outside of the U.S. I didn’t leave this continent, but Canada in the late 80’s was still another world.

We departed Elkhart, Indiana for a very long chartered bus trip to the Stratford Festival in Stratford, Ontario. A loose assembly of students would enjoy a couple days in a foreign land watching Shakespeare performed live. My usual depressive self spent the majority of the bus ride sleeping, or listening to tapes in my trusty Sanyo “Walkman.”

As if junior high doesn’t suck enough it was double for me. I believe I could have easily been diagnosed with clinical depression, but because my mode was self-destructive rather than the outright rebellion my older sister had adopted, I slipped under the radar. For years I lacked connective friendships. If I recall correctly the trip to Canada took place in my junior year of high school. By then I had a best friend, albeit a manipulative one, and actual friends in the high school I attended. My religious attendance at “Greg Allen’s” was essential to my self-esteem. It was a safe space where bullying rarely occurred.

I remember wanting the chance to be outside the confines of the US. I know it was a motivating reason to go on the trip. Something about leaving this country guaranteed a shift in my life.

In-between the lavish productions we would explore the city, eat in fancy restaurants, and hang out at the hotel. Not surprisingly, while wandering on free time, we found a record store. Inside this plain shop with the standard record displays I quickly located the Cocteau Twins. To my surprise there was a full selection, but due to budget and a great desire to hear the music from that auspicious night, stuck to buying only Victorialand on tape.

There are few memories that I can access as easily as the one where I was flipping through the tapes in that record shop. It’s there, right along side the glowing faceplate and knobs that controlled John’s car stereo. There are many bits of time glued to the sound of the Cocteau Twins all over the scrapbook of my mind. Their music makes me feel as fresh and excited as the first time I heard them nearly thirty years ago.

image courtesy of Kayt Molina

This piece was written as part of the Art Swap Collaboration.

Other pieces in this series include:

I created the art for Jing Jing’s piece: