Until I started listening to Blur again, I’d forgotten the feeling of the impending end of an entire century.
I’ve been struck by how many Blur songs use the word century, or reference its ending. In “For Tomorrow,” “he’s a 20th century boy.” In “Country House,” the city-dweller is “caught up in the century’s anxieties.” And of course, in “End of a Century,” “we kiss with dry lips when we say good night… end of a century, it’s nothing special.”
Time ends, flips inside out. We fall off a cliff and into a different world than the one we’ve known, even though it’s exactly the same, changing by events rather than by numbers. I lived almost the first half of my life in a different millenium.
“If I listen to a playlist of children’s new wave songs about trucks at work, will anybody notice?” That’s the question my partner and I have been wondering about (more me because of the nature of my job) now that our kid is obsessed with this song about a cement mixer. Like a disease, it has spread to everyone around her. We all have it stuck in our heads. It goes round and round and round and round…
If this had existed when I was in high school, it’s exactly the kind of thing I would’ve binged-watched just because it’s weird.