The Lost Joy of Smash Hits...

I know I moan about being on my phone too much, and wishing my concentration span could last the length of a Marple without checking Twitter, but if the Internet disappeared, I'd be lost. 

It's not just the mundane stuff: the online shopping, the news reading, the messaging friends and family. It's the cultural stuff too. Last week was Madonna's 60th birthday. I knew it was imminent from the tweets of several women I follow, all of whom - quite rightly in hindsight - recognised something big was happening. I took Madonna for granted until last week. Always there, always innovating, always being revolutionary. When her birthday arrived, my timeline was filled with photos, clips, and playlists, glorying in her body of work. I got sucked right in and enjoyed celebrating an icon. As Sali Hughes tweeted, 'It's so lovely to see everyone celebrating a living person for a change'. 

Agreed. 

The Internet is like a sped-up version of the flapping butterfly, causing an earthquake miles away. One quick glance can set off a series of actions that culminate in something massive. I'd not thought about Madonna for ages before last week. Then I read about her, cumulatively over a few days. Next thing, I'm searching YouTube, opening a bottle of wine and giving my best Like a Prayer rendition, after ranking her songs, choosing my favourite Madonna look, and marvelling that she's rewriting the rules for us all on what it looks like to be sixty. The Internet caused all that.

A similar domino effect of events happened recently. A friend retweeted an article about Smash Hits, the teen music magazine from my youth. I read the article and reminisced about how much I used to love reading it. The interviews with pop stars were always tongue in cheek and the editor of the letters page was really sarky. Reading the article triggered a bunch of memories. My first ever read of Smash Hits was in 1985. My Dad brought home a copy for me because it had George Michael and Andrew Ridgeley on the front cover. They were touring China at the time and I'd been seeing pictures in the newspaper every day. (I've since learnt this was a big deal. Wham were the first western pop group to play there. I think at the time I assumed that every band's gigs were covered in depth by the press. I hadn't realised it was special.) So I got my first copy of Smash Hits and I devoured it. And over time, more followed. Between learning the song lyrics they provided, to pulling out every poster and covering my room with them, I spent the next decade being a Smash Hits reader as often as I could. 

Historical sources for just a few quid.
And if it had come to it, my maximum bid
wouldn't have stopped there.

The wander down memory lane was all well and good, but I wanted more. I wanted to read Smash Hits again. Was it as funny as I remembered? I'd no idea. All my copies were long gone. But then nothing is ever truly gone when the Internet exists. A few clicks on eBay and I found them. Copy after copy of well-kept, non-dogeared Smash Hits. Some people look after their things! Almost immediately, one front cover stood out. George Michael and Andrew Ridgeley in China. My first edition! It was just as I remembered and I had to have it. In the thrill of discovering an item of such personal significance, I'd have paid a fortune. As it was, my bid went in at £3.20. No one else got involved, so a few days later I won! It was all so easy. And cheap.

Do you remember where
you were when you
heard the news that
Bronski Beat had split?

When it arrived, it was in perfect condition. I mean, who manages to keep magazines in perfect condition from 1985? (Someone without little brothers and sisters, and a better skill of looking after their belongings. That's who.) It came on a Tuesday, but I saved it for the following Saturday. I wanted to enjoy it. When the weekend came, I got up, made a cup of tea, and went back to bed, just me and my Smash Hits. It was the perfect morning off.

Zoom in if you want to learn the lyrics. 

So some thing to note. First of all, it was glorious. It still made me laugh - the daft, silly humour seemed fairly timeless. It was also full of memories. Bands I'd long forgotten, (DeBarge) lyrics to songs I used to know, (Nineteen by Paul Hardcastle) and adverts for products no longer available (Clockhouse clothes at C&A.) It was an honest to God, historical source. Secondly, it took ages to read. I spent about an hour and a half reading through it's sixty-seven pages. Every one was packed with stuff. From the pen pal section, RSVP, (where readers' home addresses were printed!) to the crossword, to the new releases. It was engrossing. The feature on Wham's China tour was four pages long. The crossword contained the clue, 'On a lav to provide a Roxy Music hit. (anag)'*. There was a letter to Linda on the Get Smart page asking for details of New Order's fan club. There was an article entitled, 'Why Do People Like U2?'. And excitingly, there was an advert for a Teenage Rail Rover Card, giving four days travel in the Netherlands for £10. By the time I'd digested it all, my tea was cold and I'd not looked at my phone once. 

Wham in China. As covered in the
May 8th-21st 1985 edition
of Smash Hits. It cost 43p. 

The Internet is great. Without it, I'd have missed out on revelling in Madonna's 60th birthday magnificence and never had the pleasure of rereading a thirty-three year old copy of Smash Hits on a Saturday morning in bed. But reading a physical magazine from cover to cover without swiping or double clicking, is a lost joy. I want more of it. Thank goodness the Internet is there so I can stock up.

Have a lovely week, folks.

*Avalon! I got it.