Brandon Sullivan ✒ Here at Sullivan towers, it’s not all analysis of unionism and loyalism imploding and political violence. Sometimes I like to think far too deeply about music I listened to almost 30 years ago. 

 This will be of very limited interest to virtually everyone, but for those who persevere, I thank you.

Bitter Sweet Symphony


Bitter Sweet Symphony by The Verve is widely known to be based on a Rolling Stones song. But the actual music used was from an orchestral version of the Stone’s song The Last Time, performed by The Andrew Loog Oldham orchestra. The disputed piece of music was written by a session musician, paid an industry rate. It later made Allen Klein, the Stones, and the Verve millions.

But Bitter Sweet Symphony is a cover version of a cover version. Music moves in mysterious ways.

Sociology, Drugs & Audio Tape

Modern technology has provided instant access to information that was simply unimaginable in years previously. Shazam, YouTube and social media has made it easy to find out exactly what music it is that you are listening to. It has not always been the case.

In the early/mid 90s, a popular, and much maligned musical genre, and accompanying, usually drug fuelled, social pursuit was rave. A normal rite of passage was listening to audio cassette tapes of various DJs playing sets at raves across the UK, and sometimes Europe, with a group of friends, smoking hash (rarely weed then), and discussing how good it must have been to “be there.” Raves were over 18, so for younger teens, it was aspirational. Progressing through the teens, ecstasy would go along with listening to the tapes, and for those of us gifted with height and width at a young age, we’d go to raves from around 15 or so.

What’s fascinating with hindsight is what we were listening to, and how the difference of a couple of years can be highly significant. As incredible as it may seem now, things moved slowly, and culture and media were no different. The tapes we listened to spread across the country; someone, somewhere (and never anybody I knew), bought them via mail order, and they’d be copied and passed on, copied and passed on, and on and on until they made it to our little sociological corner. And this could take years. And this would mean that in 1993 or 1994, a tape from 1991 or 1992 would still be highly relevant.

The Buzzcock’s Surprising Role in Creating a Rave Anthem

I was moved to write this piece after finding out something that I found astonishing. Someone forwarded me this clip.

It’s footage of a rave, at Amnesia House, Shelley's, Stoke-On-Trent. 18th April 1992. The tune playing in the background is by an artist called Sined Roza, and it is named I Don’t Know What It is. The tune is an instrumental, no lyrics, and was ubiquitous on rave tapes from the early 1990s. It’s also sounded to those on ecstasy what Bob Marley might to those settling down for a few joints. But the interesting part is in its origins.

I Googled the Sined Roza tune and Discogs informed me that it was recorded in 1990, in Italy. The Discogs entry attracted a number of comments, which noted that it was a cover version of a 1982 song, called I Don’t Know What It Is, by a German artist named P.L.

But the title was a mistake. The 1982 song should have been called Witness the Change, because it was a cover version of Pete Shelley’s 1981 song of that name. Yes, that Pete Shelley. P.L. named it after another of the former Buzzcock’s songs from the same era.

Witness the Change is an excellent song, and sounds way ahead of its time. The Sined Roza song, like Bitter Sweet Symphony, is a cover version of a cover version.

Was Rave Music All That Bad?

I’d never have heard Witness the Change if it wasn’t for Sined Roza. And the first time I heard the Simple Minds, Pink Floyd, Talking Heads, and, weirdly, The Osmonds was via this rave classic.

Oasis were a gateway drug to a lot of extremely good music. Revisiting old rave tunes can do the same. The 90s were really quite an interesting time.

⏩ Brandon Sullivan is a middle aged, middle management, centre-left, Doors loving Belfast man. Would prefer people focused on the actual bad guys.

The Surprisingly High Brow And Esoteric Origins Of Much Rave Music

Brandon Sullivan ✒ Here at Sullivan towers, it’s not all analysis of unionism and loyalism imploding and political violence. Sometimes I like to think far too deeply about music I listened to almost 30 years ago. 

 This will be of very limited interest to virtually everyone, but for those who persevere, I thank you.

Bitter Sweet Symphony


Bitter Sweet Symphony by The Verve is widely known to be based on a Rolling Stones song. But the actual music used was from an orchestral version of the Stone’s song The Last Time, performed by The Andrew Loog Oldham orchestra. The disputed piece of music was written by a session musician, paid an industry rate. It later made Allen Klein, the Stones, and the Verve millions.

But Bitter Sweet Symphony is a cover version of a cover version. Music moves in mysterious ways.

Sociology, Drugs & Audio Tape

Modern technology has provided instant access to information that was simply unimaginable in years previously. Shazam, YouTube and social media has made it easy to find out exactly what music it is that you are listening to. It has not always been the case.

In the early/mid 90s, a popular, and much maligned musical genre, and accompanying, usually drug fuelled, social pursuit was rave. A normal rite of passage was listening to audio cassette tapes of various DJs playing sets at raves across the UK, and sometimes Europe, with a group of friends, smoking hash (rarely weed then), and discussing how good it must have been to “be there.” Raves were over 18, so for younger teens, it was aspirational. Progressing through the teens, ecstasy would go along with listening to the tapes, and for those of us gifted with height and width at a young age, we’d go to raves from around 15 or so.

What’s fascinating with hindsight is what we were listening to, and how the difference of a couple of years can be highly significant. As incredible as it may seem now, things moved slowly, and culture and media were no different. The tapes we listened to spread across the country; someone, somewhere (and never anybody I knew), bought them via mail order, and they’d be copied and passed on, copied and passed on, and on and on until they made it to our little sociological corner. And this could take years. And this would mean that in 1993 or 1994, a tape from 1991 or 1992 would still be highly relevant.

The Buzzcock’s Surprising Role in Creating a Rave Anthem

I was moved to write this piece after finding out something that I found astonishing. Someone forwarded me this clip.

It’s footage of a rave, at Amnesia House, Shelley's, Stoke-On-Trent. 18th April 1992. The tune playing in the background is by an artist called Sined Roza, and it is named I Don’t Know What It is. The tune is an instrumental, no lyrics, and was ubiquitous on rave tapes from the early 1990s. It’s also sounded to those on ecstasy what Bob Marley might to those settling down for a few joints. But the interesting part is in its origins.

I Googled the Sined Roza tune and Discogs informed me that it was recorded in 1990, in Italy. The Discogs entry attracted a number of comments, which noted that it was a cover version of a 1982 song, called I Don’t Know What It Is, by a German artist named P.L.

But the title was a mistake. The 1982 song should have been called Witness the Change, because it was a cover version of Pete Shelley’s 1981 song of that name. Yes, that Pete Shelley. P.L. named it after another of the former Buzzcock’s songs from the same era.

Witness the Change is an excellent song, and sounds way ahead of its time. The Sined Roza song, like Bitter Sweet Symphony, is a cover version of a cover version.

Was Rave Music All That Bad?

I’d never have heard Witness the Change if it wasn’t for Sined Roza. And the first time I heard the Simple Minds, Pink Floyd, Talking Heads, and, weirdly, The Osmonds was via this rave classic.

Oasis were a gateway drug to a lot of extremely good music. Revisiting old rave tunes can do the same. The 90s were really quite an interesting time.

⏩ Brandon Sullivan is a middle aged, middle management, centre-left, Doors loving Belfast man. Would prefer people focused on the actual bad guys.

3 comments:

  1. Great piece reminiscing on this era of music.

    Acid house/rave culture is interesting in many ways:

    - The communal aspect, especially in the late 80’s when Thatcher was saying that there was no such thing as society.

    - The demarcation of clubbing (think of the dress codes at Northern Soul nights and the high-end bars/nightclubs frequented by yuppies).

    - The DIY ethos of creating tunes and putting them straight on the dancefloor as opposed to going through the charts (‘Voodoo Ray’ is a classic example).

    - The lack of boundaries, musically speaking. Compare The Orb to Renegade Soundwave to The Prodigy to Aphex Twin.

    - The moral panic and the Tory government's Criminal Justice Bill (with the infamous "music includes sounds wholly or predominantly characterised by the emission of a succession of repetitive beats" line).

    Oasis were a band who crossed over with the ravers. In fact, Mixmag and Jockey Slut had adverts for ‘Definitely Maybe’ in the summer of 1994.

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  2. Brandon did you ever take any drugs when you were into acid...We know I did and I wasn't into acid but I did take LSD...

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  3. @Christopher Owens Excellent points. Cocaine and the creeping pretentiousness of "super clubs" and "super star DJ's" along with the transformation of magazines like Mix Mag from publications focusing on a bona fide accessible youth movement into an inaccessible ersatz The Face, led to average young people being excluded from what was being stylised as the scene.

    A Guy Called Gerald, legend has it, worked at McDonald's when he made Voodoo Ray.

    The book My Magpie Eyes are Hungry for the Prize details the marketing strategy for Definitely Maybe - they tapped into something. Noel Gallagher has talked about the "togetherness" of his lyrics. I can see what he means. They were the right guys in the right place at the right time. Noel also said "Live Forever: they don't wrote songs like that any more. Especially not me."

    The CJB - I remember it well. Added to the idea that we were being nonconformist. I do remember being appalled at how badly dressed the "crusties" protesting the Bill in London were, so I was not joining the dots of my politics at the time very well.

    @ Frankie - Very few people into rave music didn't take drugs. Some took more than others, and some burnt out. I was excessive, and it cost me. I took LSD a number of times, and wish I hadn't. A few bad experiences on something that powerful can leave lingering issues. On the occasions I've been asked for advice by people wanting to take drugs, I always say don't take LSD (unpredictable) or cocaine (often becomes a [costly, annoying] friend for life).

    Ecstasy was/is a perfect drug in my opinion, but a young person's game.

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