I can remember the first day that I listened to a Jean Michel Jarre record. The date was 13 July 1985. The day that Live Aid took place. I watched the whole thing, mesmerised on my TV at home, suddenly feeling part of something, feeling that music really could change the world maybe in the same way that those who listened to the political message of The Clash in the 70's felt that they could change the world. I remember Bob Geldof, sat next to a cigarette wielding Ian Astbury of The Cult and Geldof swearing (in those days still a very controversial thing to do on TV) and thinking that suddenly this seemed very important.
I remember the morning before Live Aid started. I remember the trip to my local library, and the selection of some vinyl albums chosen purely because I liked the covers. One was Oxygene, a skull peering out from the core of earth, representing a dying world. I took it home and listened to it before the TV took me to Wembley.
I was hooked on first listen. I loved the pulses, the waves, the textures of the music revolving around in that secret space that only the escapism of headphone listening can give you. It was my own world, exotic, futuristic and visionary. A world inspired by electronic music that had first been released almost ten years before. It was glorious.
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