Cordoba, Argentina/Cumbernauld, Scotland – Saturday June 3rd 1978

I fell in love with the glamour of other places at a formative age.  Specifically, as a five-year-old in Cumbernauld during the Argentina ‘78 World Cup.  The joyous theme tune played as the confetti poured down from the stadium rafters and it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.  I’d no idea where Argentina was but it looked brilliant.

The Smiths gathered at my Gran’s house to watch the Scotland v Peru match and when Scotland scored, my exuberant Dad picked me up and threw me in the air a fair few times.  It was a bit of a routine that we had and all marvellous fun, like a fairground ride, a home-made big dipper.  I was thrown high enough to touch the ceiling in my Gran’s house.  She had those polystyrene ceiling tiles up there which were popular back then and I remember pressing my fingertips into them (when else was I likely to get a chance to do such a thing?). Those fingerprints were still up there for years after, long into my teens.  Kilroy was here.

Unless you are Peruvian, it is probably best to draw a merciful veil over the remainder of that game (e.g repeated images of Scotland goalkeeper Alan Rough’s mortally offended look after letting in yet another beautiful goal by Peru, as though such virtuosity was somehow unsporting).  Anyway, I tell you this now because I’d say The Capitalist Manifesto owes something of a debt to the Argentina 78 theme tune.  Probably more than I can pay.  Musically, I have always lived beyond my means.

Lyrically, well yes, there is much in our world I do not care for but that is no reason not to enjoy life.  I don’t much care for capitalism but the word “manifesto” always sounded celebratory to me. bx