OBLIVIOUS

As it’s Glastonbury weekend, I’ve been thinking about what would make a good pop anthem for the Pyramid Stage. Casting my mind back like a fishing rod, hoping to catch a clear memory from the pools of my past, I remembered Aztec Camera’s “Oblivious” (1983). It was one of the first songs that truly branded itself on my brain and became a forever song—one that always takes me back to the mid-’80s, when I was a little kid and my eldest brother blasted it all summer on his ghetto blaster, as swifts and swallows swooped over the rooftops near our overgrown garden.

I hear your footsteps in the street
It won’t be long before we meet
It’s obvious
Just count me in and count me out and
I’ll be waiting for the shout
Oblivious

What’s really evident listening to the track today is how effortlessly cool it remains, despite its age. There’s a hybrid punk-meets jangle-pop vibe that’s timeless, giving the song both attitude and emotion. It’s tuneful in a way most punk songs fail to be, yet it carries a swagger reminiscent of Joe Strummer and The Clash. (It was perhaps no coincidence that Aztec Camera’s frontman, Roddy Frame, later duetted on “Good Morning Britain” with The Clash’s Mick Jones.)

I hope it haunts me ’til I’m hopeless
I hope it hits you when you go
And sometimes on the edge of sleeping
It rises up to let me know it’s not so deep
I’m not so slow

“Oblivious” is the defiant sound of being young and precociously cynical—about both the world and the heart. I can easily imagine Rusty James from Rumble Fish playing it before a knife fight, while planning a date with his girl afterward—overly protective because he feels revved up on his bloody victories in the street.

I won’t pretend to know exactly what the song is about, but maybe that doesn’t matter. It’s got an attitudey kind of vibe that lets the listener feel both macho and vulnerable at the same time—a rare feat, like a growly dog that snarls but secretly wants to be petted.

Ultimately, for me, it’s the sound of summer, with a sophisticated flamenco influence that elevates it above the more generic hits of its era.

Now I'm thinking wouldn’t it be great if Roddy Frame just blasted it out tomorrow night instead of Neil Young, with his multiple axes (pun intended) to grind?

God knows the world needs something more than hippie rockers gone full political stooge (see Young’s happy approval of “Rockin’ in the Free World” being used for Tim Walz’s disastrous 2024 campaign, and his moody removal of his music from Spotify because he didn’t like Joe Rogan’s differing opinion on Covid vaccines).

It’s like that endlessly relevant quote from The Dark Knight: “You either die a hero, or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain.”

Or like Dennis Hopper at the end of Easy Rider when he prophetically proclaims, “We blew it,” regarding the hippie dream.

So while we wryly watch ageing rockers pursue their myth of freedom with contradictory authoritarian values, the rest of us (i.e., me) will be blasting Oblivious and reminding ourselves what true freedom in music sounds like.

From the mountain tops down to the sunny street 
A different drum is playing a different kind of beat
It's like a mystery that never ends
I see you crying and I want to kill your friends

I hear your footsteps in the street
It won't be long before we meet
It's obvious
Just count me in and count me out and
I'll be waiting for the shout
Oblivious