Track 13 - “Don’t Look Back” by Lloyd Cole (1990)

From the album Lloyd Cole

Music and lyrics by Lloyd Cole

Performed by:

Lloyd Cole – lead vocals, guitar

Robert Quine – guitar  

Blair Cowan – piano

Matthew Sweet – bass

Fred Maher – drums  

When you’re nothing to no one

And you’re less than you can

And you’re looking for someone

Who won’t cling to anything

So you’re stuck in some motel

With the sound of her sleeping

Don’t you feel kinda old now?

Well ain’t that a funny thing

I used to wake up early, I used to try to believe

But life seems never ending, when you’re young

When I was about seven or eight years old, I developed what a lot of parents would probably call bad behavior: I started to get nosy when we went to visit other people’s houses. Maybe curiosity is a better way to put it. We’d visit family or friends and after pleasantries were exchanged, I’d start to look around the house or apartment. If other kids were there, my brother and I would often end up in the playroom or den, and see what toys we’d have access to for the next few hours, looking at some with envy and muttering, “Man, why don’t we have the Death Star playset with the trash compactor?” Playing with newly discovered toys was all well and good, but after about an hour or so, I often grew bored, and that bad habit I mentioned would take hold, and I’d start to wander and see what else was around. Now, I’m not telling you I used to go through people’s medicine cabinets or look at their bank statements; it was more innocent than that. Back then, people just had more stuff out that gave away who they were; books, magazines, framed pictures, basically everything that’s digitized today. And of course, people had record collections, and later CD collections that I couldn’t keep myself from looking at. In our own house, my parents had their records on display in the shelving unit that housed the giant stereo system they owned. The records themselves were off-limits, but I would spend a lot of time just flipping through them, admiring the album art, reading the song titles, and loving how they felt in my hands. The older the record, the more the cover was worn and frayed around its edges, and eventually it would develop that smell you often associate with library books. My Aunt Peggy lived in this great old apartment in Queens back then, with these amazing built-in, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. I would often find myself thumbing through the hundreds of books she owned, pulling them off the shelves and reading passages from horror titles I knew I shouldn’t be reading: The Shining, The Exorcist, Flowers in the Attic, Carrie…but I couldn’t help myself and that curiosity always got the best of me. And those books all had that wonderful smell and the worn-out edges that all well-read books should have. So, while the other kids were playing with toys in the playroom, I would often gravitate to the books and records that were on the adults’ shelves in the living room or den, comparing them to my parents’ collection, since it was the only point of reference I had. Sometimes one of the adults would come over and ask absently what I was up to, or inquire if I was familiar with whatever record or book I was busy perusing. But I would also hear my parents’ familiar refrain of “Johnny be careful with that, it’s not yours.” Of course, as I got older and I went to my own friends’ houses, this habit became completely acceptable, especially the first time I went over a new friend’s house. I almost couldn’t wait for this moment. What kind of music did they have? Would they let me borrow a cassette or a CD? For most of the friendships I had in high school and college, music was what we bonded over, so I was lucky. I can’t tell you how many cassettes and CDs I had tossed at me, often followed by, “Dude you gotta check this out.”; or how many shoeboxes I rummaged through and asked if I could borrow a tape “just for a couple of days.”; or even better, the countless times a friend hopped into the passenger seat of my car, and put a new CD in the player and asked, “Have you heard this yet?” Growing up in the 1980’s and 1990’s was unique in this way. There were tapes and CD’s and maybe even vinyl you could admire when meeting someone for the first time, and then borrow when that friendship grew.

So, friendships back then were one thing. Dating, however, was a whole different ballgame. My friends and I had many conversations back then about the girls we went out with and the music they liked to listen to. Most of the girls we knew from the neighborhood that we had grown up with had great taste in music; that’s one of the reasons we hung out with them. It’s when we turned 21 and started driving to bars and clubs outside our comfort zone to expand the dating pool that things sometimes got questionable. We all knew that things like music or movies could make or break whether things got serious or not with some of the girls we dated. It’s amazing looking back the stuff we thought was important, but those were the priorities back then, for better or worse. I’m not going to sit here and deny making some dating decisions based on what kind of music the person liked or didn’t like. I can remember the girl who wouldn’t take Billy Ray Cyrus’ Achy Breaky Heart out of her CD player; that’s not a knock on Billy Ray Cyrus, but let’s expand our horizons just a bit? Or the girl who tried to tell me that Ace of Base was better than Pearl Jam or “any of those Seattle bands.” Or the girl who only listened to club music; yeah, when I have a few in me, I love a little thumping bass to dance to, but what about some guitars and real drums? These were actual young ladies I encountered during the years I was single, and I truly hope they are all happy and settled down with someone who brings them flowers and makes them playlists on their anniversaries, but those situations were not going to work for me. Even when I met the person I would eventually marry, I remained skeptical right up until the moment I went to her house and the eight-year-old in me began that curious look around. Judy had been a DJ in college; she must have good taste in music, right? With shaky hands, I started thumbing through her CD’s; I did ask first, I am a gentleman after all. At first, I saw the usual suspects: Nirvana, Smashing Pumpkins, Jane’s Addiction…this was 1995, the height of alternative and grunge. Then, there was the Beastie Boys, Seal, The Smiths, Oasis…OK, this was looking good. Then I saw some artists I was only somewhat familiar with: The Devlins, a band from Ireland, and Crowded House, an Australian band with some hits in the 80s that I thought weren’t even around anymore. Then there were some artists I had never heard of at all: Heather Nova, a singer/songwriter from Bermuda, and a CD by an Alaskan singer named Jewel, Pieces of You, that would end up selling 12 million copies. This was an eclectic collection; some stuff I really liked, and some potential new artists to add to my own repertoire. Then I came upon a name I thought I knew but hadn’t seen in a while: Lloyd Cole. The cover was basic; just a portrait of the artist with sort of a streaked silver “X” transposed on top. I’d heard this name before, probably years prior on the radio. Maybe it’s Lloyd Cole from the Commotions? I thought I remembered hearing their song, “Perfect Skin”, on WLIR a couple of times. This had to be the same guy. For whatever reason, out of all the discs I flipped through, this CD by an artist I was only sort of familiar with was what I landed on.

Born in Scotland in 1961, Lloyd Cole formed The Commotions in 1982, while attending the University of Glasgow. Originally formed as a large soul band, they eventually trimmed down to a five-piece, and released their first album, Rattlesnakes, in 1984. The album reached #3 in the UK, and contained the aforementioned hit, “Perfect Skin”, which had airplay and success in the UK and US. Compared to the synth-pop that was dominant during the early 1980s, The Commotions’ guitar-driven sound earned praise, and Lloyd Cole in particular earned acclaim for his songwriting. The Commotions would record two more albums before Cole broke up the band and he moved from London to New York City to work on a solo album. Cole viewed the move as a chance to start over, and his new surroundings provided the inspiration for his first solo album Lloyd Cole, released in 1990; this was the CD I was turning over in my hands in Judy’s living room in December of 1995. I’m still not sure what made me so curious about this particular CD over the others, but I called over my shoulder something like, “Is it OK if I put something on?” When the answer came back affirmative, I cued up Lloyd Cole and hit play. As the first track, “Don’t Look Back”, began to play, I had no idea what to expect. Probably 90% of the music I was listening to the past three years was heavy, dark and loud; grunge music dominated the radio and if I’m being honest, that was fine with me because I loved it. But what I heard coming out of those speakers was anything but that. The guitar chords were smooth and jangly at the same time, with this great drum groove underneath. And the voice…sultry is the only way I can describe it, and it had this uplifting sadness to it as well. The song talks about growing old, our protagonist falling in love with a much younger girl, from the sound of it. But it was great; I took an instant liking to this record, by this singer/songwriter I had never taken the time to listen to. When Judy came into the room, she complimented my choice; turns out she’d been a fan of Lloyd Cole since his first album with The Commotions. I was somewhat embarrassed I had never caught on to Lloyd Cole or his first band, aside from hearing “Perfect Skin” on the radio. But as 1995 ended, and that cold, snowy winter of 1996 dragged on, Lloyd Cole and his 1995 album, Love Story, barely left my CD player, at home and in the car. I became hooked on those songs, and they were such a great departure at the time from all the hard rock and grunge I was listening to. Lloyd Cole also opened the door to appreciating other singer/songwriters at the time, including Jeff Buckley, Tori Amos, Aimee Mann, and Liz Phair. Looking back now, as the grunge revolution was ending in the mid to late 1990s, there were more of these types of artists being played on the radio and dominating playlists and sales charts. Now when I’m skeptical of hearing new music for the first time, I just think back to flipping through those CDs and finding Lloyd Cole, and discovering his catalog. It’s a good thing to be curious and nosy once in a while but might be better at our age to ask first. 😊 And here’s Lloyd Cole and his band in 1990, performing “Don’t Look Back” on a UK show called “Rock Steady.”

Thanks again for stopping by! Sign up for email updates to get weekly posts delivered to your inbox and please tell your friends about the playlist. 😊

Next time…a new wave synth-pop quartet become international superstars in 1990, and I realize there’s more to life than power chords.

P.S.

 If you’ve been reading and paying attention you might be asking yourself why I’ve been talking about my wife Christine, while there is clearly a young lady named Judy mentioned above who I say is the person I eventually married. Since this is not a relationship blog, I will fast forward to the part where Judy and I realized we were better off as friends and leave it at that. We do in fact remain close friends to this day; we’ve raised (and are still raising) two amazing young men together, and she’s a great mother and all-around good person. I’m grateful she’s in my life. When I did remarry in 2010, her and Christine became fast friends, and we became our version of “Modern Family.” Lucky for everyone involved, especially our boys, it all worked out. And as far as I know, Judy still has good taste in music.

Lloyd Cole has released nine more studio albums since his eponymous debut, and several compilations and live recordings as well. He is one of the few artists I can just put the whole catalogue on shuffle play and not skip any songs; his music is that great and special to me. His lyrics speak about relationships, work, growing old, not taking yourself too seriously, and about writing itself. I love that he’s not always the hero in his songs, and sometimes things don’t always work out; it’s very relatable and real to me.  I’ve had the privilege of seeing him live four times: once with his band The Negatives in 1998, at Stephen Talkhouse in Amagansett, Long Island and three times just him and an acoustic guitar. When he plays by himself, he takes requests from the audience, tells stories between songs and is completely self-deprecating and hilarious. If you can go see him live, I urge you to go, even if you don’t know the music; I promise you’ll be entertained. The last time my wife and I saw him, at Daryl’s House in Pawling, New York, he told a story about a songwriter’s poll that was conducted in the UK. Elvis Costello won the poll, but Elvis Costello voted for…Lloyd Cole. I searched the internet high and low to find the poll but no luck. Though I figure if he told the story to a packed venue, it must be true! Here’s the link to Lloyd Cole’s Spotify page if you want to check out his music. Let me know what you think! And here’s a Spotify playlist of other singer/songwriters I was listening to back then…enjoy! 😊

 See you next time…

 JS

6/30/2022