We slammed the doors of the Whomobile and left the skater punks behind. Matt and I crossed the street. Approaching Jeff’s house, I felt ready for anything. This kid, a guy I thought was my friend, was about to suffer the wrath of Scott Malchus.

Summer, 1986. It was a significant year for me, as it was the first time I was trusted to stay home alone for the summer. Well, not completely alone. While my parents and younger sister were off touring the country in a camper, my older brother, Budd, was in charge of supervising me. But we pretty much kept out of each other’s way. That summer I was part of a rock band and played paying gigs (pretty sweet for a cover band); I had a cute girlfriend; I drove a cool car (the Whomobile); and surprisingly, I was relatively popular. It was a good time to be a 16-year-old.

My band of choice was the Outfield, the British trio whose song, “Your Love,” was a smash hit. Guitarist/songwriter John Spinks had a gift for the perfect pop hook and bassist/lead singer Tony Lewis’s aching voice was the perfect instrument for Spinks’ songs. Rounding out the band was drummer Alan Jackman, who provided the right amount of power and kick to lift the band above the fray. Every song on Play Deep is a classic that I sang to and played along to for months. “61 Seconds,” the song that closes out side one, has always stood out to me.  It’s a departure from the broken-hearted/paranoid lyrics that populate the rest of the album, dealing with the plight of the working man. With its ticking clock and propelling beat, I can only imagine that I listened to “61 Seconds” several times the evening Matt and I drove over to confront Jeff. (more…)