Did you hear? Peter
Gabriel is touring North America to mark the 25th
anniversary of his great album So.
Naturally I am stoked to see my favorite singer in concert for a
fourth time, because I am hip and trendy and down with the kids; but
I am double-stoked because 2012 is actually a personal anniversary in
my relationship with So.
People
who had the misfortune to know me when I was in my teens could tell
you that my defining characteristic as an adolescent was my deep,
borderline-obsessive love for Peter Gabriel. (Like I said: hip,
trendy, etc.) The wall above my bed was completely obscured by
posters, newspaper clippings, and magazine articles relating to PG,
as I abbreviated him; I faithfully wore my PG T-shirt and baseball
cap every weekend; I traded bootlegs online (yes,
children, once upon a time we used to trade
bootlegs,
via snail mail); I was
consistently in the top five posters on a certain PG fan forum.
At
its best, being a teenager is very dull – a stretch of life you
just have to wait out so you can get to the good parts. You have to
latch onto something to get you through it: casual sex, illegal
drugs, chess club. I was really, really into Peter Gabriel.
One
of the reasons is simple timing. After a decade of soundtrack albums
and thumb-twiddling, PG dropped Up,
his first proper record since 1992's Us,
on September 24, 2002 – which
happened to be about six weeks after my family relocated from Kenya
to Scotland.
I
had, of course, known that summer 2002 would be our last summer in
Kenya. I was careful to commit it to memory: all the safaris, bumping
along dusty roads on the roof-rack of the car, dutifully penciling
down every critter we saw; blissed-out days spent reading voraciously
beside the pool of a coastal villa; swearing eternal loyalty to the
friends I still wasn't really used to having. Plus, Peter Gabriel.
That school year I had been very into the Who, Pink Floyd, Rush, and
Gong, so maybe it was toward the summer that PG fever struck me. I
can remember sitting in my parents' car, listening to “Big
Time” on headphones, and thinking: I am IN LOVE with this
album.
Acclimatizing
to life in the UK from Kenya is really, really hard, even if you're
not 13. Peter Gabriel's music helped me get through a rotten time in
my life. My prog-rock
childhood had convinced me that good music was over; but the
release of a new record from my favorite musician was like a little
island of sanity in the midst of that chaotic combination of culture
shock and adolescence. So
was something from Kenya. Up
was something from Britain. Peter Gabriel offered a way of exploring
new territory while still being in touch with my past.
I
love So. I've listened
to it probably eighty billion gazillion times in the past decade, but
to my ears it still hums with the echoes of a very different part of
my life – a part that ended ten years ago. It feels very weird to
be ten years out of Kenya, and weirder still to be ten years removed
from the profoundly, awesomely ignorant little oddball I was when I
was 13. Here are five things I wish I could go back in time and tell
my 13-year-old self, to ease those troublesome years of high school:
1.
Read this.
Try not to be a douche about your shiny megatons of privilege.
2.
Gender theory, sex-pos feminism, and QUILTBAG awareness. UK sex ed in
the early-to-mid-2000s is entirely contraception-centric, with the
admirable goal of reducing unwanted teen pregnancy, but you will not
get any of the sex and gender education you so desperately need.
You'll be much happier once you deconstruct the dominant cultural
framing of all sexual activity as teleological toward PIV. Learn not
to worry whether you're “normal” re: gender identity or
sexuality.
3.
It's okay to feel things and want things. You don't have to empty it
all into your fiction, and you don't have
to let other people dictate who you can be. Life will never be easy,
but I promise you it will one day be a million times more interesting
than it is right now.
4.
Mother is right more
often than you think, and she is wrong more often than you think. If
that sounds contradictory, welcome to having a Jewish mother. You'll
never get used to it.
5.
Most of all: EVERYONE
IS FAKING IT. ALL THE TIME.
Oh, I was fascinated by Peter Gabriel too actually, but I was just going into High School but it only extended to So and Up. Never gave a good listen to Us. I still remember from 2003, laying on my bed in the hotel we stayed in when we went to England for spring break and listening to Up on my cd player/ headphones. Yes, I didn't have an ipod all throughout high school. Looking back, Up's lyrics were kinda hokey, but So has endured. I'm glad to see you like Amy Pohler also. Your blog is ace. :)
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