The Summer of '79

(Image from Tosca.homeip.net)

THE NAME IS PERFECTLY APPROPRIATE FOR THEIR MUSIC AND THEY came right on time when the time wasn’t right. The Knopfler brothers and a fitting rhythm complement of basic base and minimalist drumming to their Hungarian-Scottish blues psychedelia floated on the New Wave and landed on the shore with more grace and staying power than what turned out to be something of a passing fancy. Thanks to Mark Knopfler’s “swan’s neck for a guitar,” Pick Withers’ aural version of Chinese painting, the able backup of Knopfler’s brother David on rhythm guitar, and base-guitar player John Illsley.

Admittedly, my choice for the best studio album that Dire Straits recorded, this one, is biased as hell. On a five-star rating system, this LP could rate only four stars, or 4 1/2 at best, but this was their debut album, and first is first. And it’s not bad either; it actually is superb (or near superb). The carrier single, Sultans Of Swing, introduced the band to the world, which ever since has had pockets of diehard fans who refuse to let go of the past. (I am talking about myself.) There could be others.

Sentimental value notwithstanding, Dire Straits was one of the best albums (this was the time when vinyl still ruled and the cassette tape was still winding its way to replace the big black shiny happy circle with a hole in the middle, long before the compact disc repeated history) released that year, 1978. Record companies in my country had, still have, a delayed reaction to many hit singles (remember 45 RPMs) and LPs (remember 33 1/3 RPMs), releasing their own presses only when music rags (no Internet yet) made so much noise it was impossible to ignore. So, I got hold of this in 1979. Sultans of Swing was a soft-spoken bomb that exploded on radio. Mark Knopfler’s finger-picking style and just as laidback talk-singing (I thought Michael Franks was the best poet in the music business, until I heard Mark Knopfler/Dire Straits) was erroneously lumped together with the retro tendencies of new wave and punk. Dire Straits stood above the rest. Except for the Ramones, no one from that era survived the ’80s and beyond better than Knopfler’s gang. OK, so Dire Straits split eventually, too, and the Ramones died off one after another, with the exception of hardy Marky Ramone.

Down to the Waterline is one of those quite-rare songs that perfectly opens a record: “Sweet surrender/On the quay side/You remember/We used to run and hide.” Jaunty guitars set the mood for the fun of the ride, which doesn’t end until Lions – my second all-time favorite Dire Straits ditty, eight songs away. Sultans of Swing strategically positioned as cut number 6 on Side 2, lies in wait for pleasures that for me (this is personal and way nostalgic) still make my skin tingle 30 odd years after the initial act. “You get a shiver in the dark/It’s raining in the park/But meantime/South of the river you hold everything.” I can still recite in singsong many lyrics of what Knopfler wrote. I intentionally refuse to read lyric sheets, or search the web for the exact words, because I want to re-experience everything. Hopefully, my memory serves me right, and that my heart is still in the right place.

This is supposed to be a record review. But how can you review a feeling you had three decades ago? It is never the same. One can only hope you haven’t become so jaded not to remember. I will try. Song for song. Here, I have to pull out my dusty LP from a neat rack threatened by termites for the proper sequence.

Down to the Waterline: Refer to above.

Water of Love: Continues the water reference from the first cut. Mike Scott could have taken Dire Straits for his inspiration.

Setting Me Up: Uptempo paranoid.

Six Blade Knife: “Your six-blade knife/Do anything for you/Anything you want it to/One blade for breaking my heart/One blade for tearing me apart...” I still don’t see how that is physically possible and practical to have a six-sided blade or six-edged knife, or, all right, six-bladed knife. The tough guys in our neighborhood used to conceal tres and cuatro-cantos knives in their person for those sudden violent street confrontations, but sais cantos? I will take Mark’s word.

Southbound Again: My on-the-road song. I used to hum and play this song in my head while on a bus going (geographically south, actually) back to college from my hometown. The sight of coconut trees, mountains, the sea, from the window of the bus, was the music video for this song.

Sultans of Swing: A “shiver in the dark,” “rain” “in the park”...Mark Knopfler as a child must have gotten wet so many times aside from under the bathroom shower he has to experience again the sensation in his music. It’s all right, Mark. We listen to you and we feel warm.

In the Gallery: I have always wanted to see the inside of an art museum, art gallery in England. I am stuck in an archipelago in Asia damned by incorrigibly corrupt politicians. My former assistant editor, though, now lives and works in London. I grill him on life in the UK whenever he comes home to visit. Lucky bastard! Sorry, Jack, your parents never did marry. No offense, mate.

Wild West End: I grew up on the old TV western Wild Wild West. I understand that the West End is a section in London, or...OK! It is in England, right? It is incongruous to visualize Englishmen in suits and derby hats drawing revolvers and shooting each other down in the middle of Main Street, even in the 1800s. It is not? How about skinheads battling the coppers? Something wild in the West End. My imagination is running wild.

Lions: The perfect closer to the perfect opener – Down to the Waterline. Sans record sleeve lyrics sheet and decades before the Internet, I played songs on the turntable, picking up the needle arm (!!!) and putting it back on the starting groove to transcribe the lyrics. I memorized more songs this way than accompanying myself on the guitar or piano singing songs on a songbook. “Red sun going down/Wait over/Dirty town/The stars are sweeping around now/Crazy show/Listen and a girl is there/Right over around the square.” My listening skills are not perfect and Knopfler’s grumble can be off-putting to those keen on getting his lyrics right. This is the best that I can do, all things considered.

The Dire Straits sound got heavier, more solid, and more commercial, when Brothers in Arms and Money for Nothing came along seven and 10 years later, respectively. They had more fans and much more money in the bank by then. For that reason, I keep holding on to the slender past. The reason their debut record will remain my favorite Dire Straits LP. Play it long...in my mind for now.

This is the best I can do from the top of my head, raiding raw memory. My brother (in needle mark arms) sold our two Sansui amplifiers when he was still trying to listen to voices and music in his head with the aid of chemicals for a shot of whatever he fancied at the time. My turntable is kaput. The speakers stand in a corner silent. I have kept all my LP records while hoping I find a cheap stereo set.

There are voices and music in my head, too, but I don’t need to sink a needle in my arm or inhale substances that God did not intend for his creatures to. Life has too many natural highs and abysmal lows. One of those highs is Dire Straits’ music. A definite low is being unable to listen to them on vinyl again. Wait! I still have my well-wound cassette tape of Alchemy and Live at the BBC. "Analogue is warmer."

All is not lost.