#7: Lost in the Supermarket -- The Clash (1979)

One of the best albums ever, with the following songs one after another:

Hateful, Rudie Can't Fail, Spanish Bombs, The Right Profile, Lost in the Supermarket, Clampdown and Guns of Brixton.

That's a greatest hits album......without counting Koka Kola, Wrong 'em Boyo, Death or Glory and Train in Vain. While some are partial to Sandinista, this is The Clash's best effort. Joe Strummer wrote Lost in the Supermarket while visualizing the childhood of Mick Jones. Jones sings the lead on the song. Headon's drum work on this song is crisp and wonderful without sounding urgent. The lyrics are urgent enough and Jones' delivery is perfect.

While the song is about consumerism, it gets at the horrible "suburbia" nonsense so prevalent in 1980s music by addressing the loneliness. The song always resonated with me for two lyrics:

1. I heard the people who live on the ceiling/scream and fight most scarily/hearing that noise was my first ever feeling/that's how its been all around me

Of course these were my parents! Who the hell else would it be? And it scared the shit out of me every day. While this means I did spend a goodly amount of my childhood hiding in my room it also means that I can put up with a lot of noise and concentrate. This probably leads to my ability to read for hours at a time without stopping, as I did not want to leave my room for anything (food, bathroom) because I would be in the firing line. Mom usually had the good sense to stop but Dad didn't know he was beat. Usually each round would end not with a bell but with the muttered "Balls!" followed by a retreat to a neutral barca-lounger and couch. Then Mom would chime in with something like "God Damn it" and the next round would start. 30-40 minutes of this at a shot was not uncommon, sometimes as many as three times a day.

I often wonder why they stayed together. And I have no idea. They were miserable, and one thing that I would tell any couple with kids (or cats/dogs/rats/chimpanzees/iguanas) is to never stay together for your kids. If you are miserable chances are your kids will be as well. Better to have awkward weekends or holidays or drunken ramblings about the evils of your former in-laws than a long term bag of never ending shit.

It also means that I HATE YELLING! Jesus Christ with egg on his beard I can't stand people yelling at each other. I mean yelling, not "raising one's voice" or "speaking with authority" or "cussing a blue streak." That's not yelling. Yelling means an effect not unlike a mail gauntlet dragged across a chalkboard. A paralyzingly painful feeling with a high pucker factor. I really dislike raising my own voice and attempt to avoid this at all costs which makes me a pushover.

2. I came in here for a special offer/A guaranteed personality

My "personality products" are Chuck Taylors (tagged red ones courtesy of the talented Austin Matthew, white, hot pink), hats (to protect the bald melon in various weathers), goatee (with mind of its own...If I try to shave it off it will kill me) and Hot Pink IPod. As a teenager there was precious little to define oneself by outside of music and what you wore.....things never change. Consumerism is an awful thing but it remains the place where you can exert some control over your own identity. That is the loneliness of the song. Apple users "drink the Kool Aid" but we all do at some point or another. The whole world is Kool Aid but we can choose the flavors. Choose the BBC or NPR flavored news over the Huff Post or Fox or MSNBC. If you must choose the HuffPo flavor, pick the politics flavor over the Jennifer Aniston side-boob flavor. Ahhhhhh who the hell am I kidding?

The only personality that matters is the one you develop. You don't get it from buying shit. I just like Hot Pink. I have always wanted a Hot Pink tuxedo. Use your personality to show yourself.