A surreally strong musical memory was hearing a Radio 1 DJ go from “Supernatural Giver” by proto-Britpop band Kinky Machine (If nothing else, their single covers were Menswear’s aesthetic about three years early, right down to an identical font) to T-Rex’s “Children of the Revolution” as if they were one song, just letting “Giver” end and the chug-chug of “Children” start as if it was some weird, awesome coda to the last song. I can remember really clearly sitting at the desk in my bedroom, trying to study for some upcoming exam and being… distracted wasn’t the word; I couldn’t concentrate on work at that moment because there was something about the obvious connection between the new song and the old song, the way they sounded related, the way that the T-Rex song didn’t sound like anything I’d heard before (Maybe I’d heard “Get It On” before this, but I’m not sure, to be honest) and I thought “I need to listen to more glam rock. This is what pop music should sound like.”
It wasn’t the power of one song or the other. It was the power of the moment where the two crossed over, if that makes sense.