Summer Challenge: Remembering Being at a Far Away Beach

This was a beach and a campsite in a bay deep into the Coromandel hills. The summer of 1987. To get there, we had driven a blissful three days of a new summertime rhythm of swim, soak up the sun, eat ripe red tomato and salami sandwiches, chill out with late afternoon and evening beers, sleep on the beach; up the next day, drive on, and repeat until we got to our Acadia and settled into holiday base camp for the week. Every day, every hour, there was the soundtrack on a succession of C90 cassettes, in the cars, and on the Double-A battery-powered portable player. What sounds were we playing/hearing? For a group of students on summer break, it was art school indie, of course. The best of local student radio, the best of ‘Noisy Land’ bands we saw live on our weekends, the best of left-of-the-dial American college radio, and the best of post-punk Britain. Early in the day, some lighter indie, on the road and in the car a driving beat, later in the day near the beach, maybe some reggae. In the evening, when the campfire crackles, the surf rocks, and fades on the distant shore: things might get loud. Where did the trip end? Our final stop of the tour, the Waihi Beach Tavern, on Saturday night. The Garden Bar for the afternoon, good ales, good sun, good friends still, even after too much proximity, too much compromise. The evening is dedicated to local reggae inside the pub with Te Reo band Aotearoa opening for the real roots’ reggae of Dread Beat & Blood. Both bands move the sweaty and hot audience, an infectious skank, and the flame Bob ignited from his legendary visit in 1979 burns on with these disciples. If there was one band, one song for that summer, it was the first fledgling lineup of Primal Scream and ‘Velocity Girl. It was on the NME C86 cassette, just 1.25 minutes long and perfect pop. First, an open chord short strum, a bang, bang drum, and away, reoccurring guitar riff, plucked from the air lyrics: ‘splendour in a silver dress/velocity possessed…’, slight crescendo, and landing on the last strident then fading guitar note.

Just like that, the trip and summer were gone, beautiful and fleeting.