Fiona Price remembers New Year’s Eve 1986 very well, thanks to one song.
As midnight struck, I stepped onto the patio and breathed in 1987. The tiles were still warm beneath my fourteen-year-old feet, but the New Year’s air had the simmering cool of night after a hot summer’s day. Lungs still full, I stepped back into the family room, where my brother was watching TV. Deep, ominous synth notes were ringing out, and the screen was cutting between a moving shot over water and a band I recognised as the Models.
Jeff Dowsing has less fond memories of New Year’s Eve, but one song rings true through hard times.
Personally, New Years’ Eve has generally sucked balls. Almost ten years ago my father died suddenly on NYE. Obviously that was the worst. I’ve hardly bothered staying up for it since then. At least one New Years Eve ran against the formline…