WHAT it says about my character I’m not sure, but many of my favourite hobbies and pastimes seem to involve an inordinate amount of patience.
Playing cricket, supporting England’s football team and drinking Guinness all require days, weeks, months and even years of waiting around hoping for something to happen.
Another interest you can add to that sluggish list is a love for bands from the UK independent scene circa 1988-1991.
Being a fan of that era’s music could be a frustrating experience. As a 14-year-old the album I listened to most was the debut from the Stone Roses which was released when I was 12. It frustrated me that I’d missed the Madchester boat simply by being too young and living 200 miles away.
Thankfully, such was the natural order of things another album would surely be along soon and I’d be able to come to the party. But as 1991 turned into 1992 and then 1993 there was still nothing from Ian Brown and co. Rumours of lethargy, drug use and general lazing about became legendary in the music press as we fans hung on to any news of a new note of music being created.
Eventually towards the end of 1994, five years after their debut, (the same amount of time it took the Beatles to go from Please Please Me to the White Album), The Second Coming was released to a general sense of anti-climax. I remember the day of release well: it was pouring with rain as I rode my bike the five miles to the nearest Our Price record shop to buy the CD. Tell that to kids today and they won’t believe you.
Just down the M62, there was a similar sense of waiting for things to happen.
The La’s’ self titled debut album came out in 1990, again just a bit too early for me to experience the band’s considerable charms first hand.
Never mind, I thought, lightning couldn’t strike twice. How wrong we were.
The La’s proceeded to go on what I believe is termed “a lengthy hiatus”. Things got so bad that bassist John Power upped sticks to go and form Cast, while Oasis borrowed heavily from Lee Mavers’ songwriting style, if not his work ethic, and in doing so conquered the world. Reformations in 2005 and 2011 failed to highlight any new material, leaving fans wondering quite what they were up to for 20 years.
Energy, hard work and dedication have never been traits you’d associate with indie bands from this time period and so it was with an immense sense of déjà vu that news drifted out that there might, sort of, maybe be a new album from legendary shoe gazers My Bloody Valentine in the near future.
A follow-up to 1991's peerless Loveless was supposed to appear towards the back end of last year, but as expectation grew, nothing happened. Then a couple of weeks ago, notoriously ‘relaxed’ frontman Kevin Shields mumbled that it “might be out in two or three days” to a fan at one of the band’s comeback gigs.
I, like many others, didn’t hold my breath.
But then a miracle. On Sunday morning (it seemed apt it was on the traditional day of rest), news filtered through that a new album was available to download.
All bets for a productive Sunday were off and, as if to emphasise the lengthy gap between albums, I listened to m.b.v (the title alone must have taken years to come up with) while washing up and babysitting.
The verdict? It’s stunning and all is forgiven.
As the slogan on the advert goes “all good things come to those who wait.”