A surprising number of fans dismiss Tangram. Julian Cope dismisses anything after Atem, calling Phaedra ‘pre-new age sequenced automaton synthesizer music’ as if that’s a bad thing. Some fans dismiss whole periods of the band – for some the early stuff is too abrasive. But it was all relatively new to me so I was happy to play Le Parc straight after Cyclone and think nothing of the different style or sounds. I certainly remember eagerly pre-ordering Tyger so I was a veteran of the whole back catalogue by then. I’m guessing this would all have happened in 1985 because I’m sure I remember the new Tangerine Dream album Underwater Sunlight coming out, which was released in 1986. But Tangerine Dream remained my first real love and after hearing Alpha Centauri, which was a lot weirder than the later stuff I’d heard, I had to try out the early lo-fi period. The store also wrote ‘see also’ so then came Klaus, Ashra, Vangelis, Jarre and others. Then came the expensive off-label soundtracks. You could then order the title from the man behind the counter, and I did – working my way solidly through all the Tangerine Dream and Edgar releases, starting with the Virgin record label albums first because they were cheaper in Virgin Records’ stores. It was great in there because in those pre-internet days you needed somebody to tell you what else was available by that artist and Virgin used to write the titles of the artist’s back catalogue on the plastic divider that showed their name in the racks. After that I spent all the cash from my weekend job in Virgin Records in Broadmead. Wish I still had them – Alpha was an Ohr Records gatefold sleeve and probably worth a fortune now. When I later tried to give them back, having taped them off, he let me keep them. The English teacher Mr Whitton caught us teenagers talking about Tangerine Dream, fell off his chair, and then brought in Stratosfear and Alpha Centauri for me to ‘borrow’’. I still don’t know what it’s got to do with sci-fi really, but I suppose I do know what he was feeling when he said it. In this instance it works well and if anything I loved this even more than Force Majeure. It has never been released on CD which is a shame because it’s a great collection and it flows together wonderfully thanks to Edgar doing a George Lucas and touching up his own earlier pieces. Side Two was Edgar Froese’s Solo 1974-79 which is a best-of compilation of tinkered-with selections from the man’s solo career. And there were no words to get in the way – it could mean whatever I wanted it to mean. It painted pictures, it took me away, and all those clichés. It was like nothing I had ever heard before. Side One was Tangerine Dream’s Force Majeure. He liked them and he thought I would too. And then, after this music class, one of the lads brought in a cassette for me of two LPs that he had recorded from his sister’s collection. So this stuff was always on, and I never heard anything contemporary to be influenced by it. She always had an old taste and it seemed ridiculous to me then.
But it all seemed ancient to me – showtunes from the ‘50s and ‘60s, big band stuff from the ‘40s, even music-hall novelties from the ‘20s. The radio was on all day except when she specifically picked out a cassette or an LP from a vast library. I did like music, but nothing specific, and nothing that much. I couldn’t think of anything, so I said, ‘nothing.’ The girls were into Duran Duran and Ultravox.
One kid had meticulously recreated the Rolling Stones’ lips logo from Sticky Fingers. Some of the boys had logos painted on their haversacks which fascinated me: The Jam, The Who, The Specials. Pop music and the charts were everything to teenagers then. The music teacher had gone round the whole class asking everybody in turn what sort of music they listened to. I first heard Tangerine Dream in about 1985 when I would have been 14 years old. ❉ Paul Vearncombe reflects on the ups and downs of his lifelong love affair with the prog pioneers’ work.
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