WHAT Barbra Streisand - Wet
WHEN Glascoed Royal Ordnance Factory Social Club - Summer 1980
Endless summer nights at 'the Club'.
Coke in classic bottles.
Pub crisps.
And it felt like this tape was playing all the time.
This was the end of an era. It was the final summer I spent in our tiny village primary school (70 pupils) before transferring to the much larger comprehensive school (1100 pupils). We also moved that summer from the Factoryβs on-site βmarried quartersβ (population 200) to the village (population 2000). New house, new school, new friends, new music.
Listening to it 36 years later is, predictably, a mixed bag. The UK might have been punk for three years but that hadnβt reached Streisandβs Malibu bunker. It has the sticky sheen of West Coast music biz glossy excess plastered over it. You donβt have to call in Time Team to date it.
A concept album based around water? OK! A soft porn hot tub album cover? Yes! Car crash arrangements of flabby disco being choked by wigged-out guitar solos and sickly string sections? Uh huh! The version of βSplish Splashβ is excruciating. Butβ¦ βWetβ, βKiss Me in the Rainβ and βNo More Tearsβ (with Donna Summer) can still hold their heads up. A decent cover version by the likes of Feist or Rhiannon Giddens could rehabilitate them for less decadent times.
Parts of this album are still scored deeply into my brain. If you say to me βItβs raining, itβs pouringβ¦β, my follow-up line will always be βmy love life is boringβ, not βthe old man is snoringβ. Thanks Barbra. Who knows what other pinko liberal mantras sheβs planted deep in my subconscious?
Now the Glascoed Royal Ordnance Factory Social Club is shuttered and decaying. Barbraβs tape looks like itβs gone through the wars. Time moves on.