I don't feel like dancing

This week's colum is inspired somewhat by Tacky Tuesday.

HAVING RECENTLY become the not so proud owner of a new (read that as 10 years old) Corsa, I have been reliving my youthful horrendous taste in music due to the fact that I now rely on an olde worlde cassette player for my in-car entertainment.
I admit I was pretty spoiled with our last car (which himself has now claimed as his own). It had a fancy(ish) CD player which allowed me to listen to all the cool tunes of the day while driving to and from work.
There was nothing better than getting behind the steering wheel, switching on the engine and listening to the sexy sounds of James Morrison as I drove over the new bridge on my way home. (Admittedly more often than not, if the wee man was in the car with me, James Morrison would be replaced by 'The Wheels on the Bus'- which was not quite as relaxing).
But when the Corsa came into my ownership, things changed and I had to abandon Mr. Morrison and my other CDs including my newly purchased and much loved Paolo Nutini CD.After several weeks of relying on Radio One for company (Great in the morning with Chris Moyles, kind of rubbish in the afternoon with Scott Mills) I decided to hunt out my old tapes from the top of the wardrobe to see if there was anything actually worth listening to again.

Instead of finding the cutting edge of late 80s and early 90s tunes I uncovered a veritable music collection of shame. In my haul I found two Bros tapes, a Celine Dion album, an offering from Mariah Carey, Garth Brook's Greatest Hits (everyone had this one? Didn't they?) and Lionel Ritchie's 'Back to Front' collection.I had two choices as I saw it. I could hide the tapes back in their darkened hidey hole and hope they never saw the light of day again or I could listen to them and see if they retained any of the appeal that attracted me to them in the first place.I opted for the second option and as the strains of the Celine Dion power ballad 'Think Twice' flooded through my car I was suddenly transported back 12 years to my room in the Halls of Residence at Jordanstown where I would play this song over and over again marvelling at the power of the emotion behind it.
Yes, I suppose I always knew Celine Dion had a pretty annoying voice but it didn't matter back then. Not when I was 18 and full of weird notions about love and slow dances.
Mariah Carey's 'Music Box' brought back equally embarrassing memories- mostly about being madly in love with a class mate who then went on to break my heart, and as for Garth Brooks- it will forever be associated with four hour bus runs to Dublin to spend the weekend with my then boyfriend (now my husband). Of course 'If Tomorrow Never Comes' will always be sung the way I heard it at a street party in Rosemount as 'If My Giro Never Comes'.
No one can fail to smile when listening to Lionel Ritchie. Songs like 'Dancing on the Ceiling' and 'Still' are real guilty pleasures. I know I probably shouldn't like them, but I can't help but enjoy a wee warble along. And if I'm honest, cheesy and all as it is, 'Hello' still brings a wee tear to my cynical eyes. I mean, in the video the blind girl was able to sculpt his face from clay even though she had never seen him.
It was enough to warm the coldest heart.I have to admit that much as I'm supposed to be a sensible, grown up and sophisticated lady of the noughties, reliving my musical youth was quite enjoyable.The songs haven't improved withthe years, but it was nice to experience them again and find that I still remembered all the words.
I mean these are all songs from back in the days when you would sit by your tape player in the evenings, stopping the tape every few seconds so you could write down the words and commit the lyrics to memory. (Please, it wasn't just me, was it?)Most of the songs were of the nature that they could only really properly be enjoyed when in a house or car on your own so that you can sing as loudly and out of tune-ly as possible.
Of course having tapes when you are used to the convenience of CDs is a pain in the bum. You can't just automatically hit the back button to hear the song again or skip past the dodgier tunes like 'The Thunder Rolls' on the Garth Brooks' album.
You have guess when to hit the stop button and if you miss your spot, then you have to rewind a wee bit again. All that said, it was a nice to take a trip down musical memory lane.
But I'm glad- very, very glad- that no cars out there have record players fitted because if you think my tape selection is bad, you should see the quality of my vinyl.
If 'Ice, Ice Baby' by Vanilla Ice doesn't turn you off, then there is always 'Mona' by Craig McLochlainn, aka Henry from Neighbours. Somehow I don't think those musical classics will ever see the light of day again.