POPFESSIONS

Stefan Jackson

The scene: It’s spring 1998, the sun is out, Britpop is in full flow (well, actually it’s on it’s last legs but at the time we were blissfully unaware of this) and the local gang of LAAAAADS and I are bunking off from 6^th form lessons to see if we can get served in the pub and doing things young people our age at that time did. That late teens period can be so difficult; a not a girl, not yet a woman kind of thing.

In those days MTV would soundtrack your going out ritual as you put in way too much hair gel, shaved off that manly looking facial hair (it wasn’t) and you got your mum to iron your best lime green Ben Sherman shirt that was at least two sizes too big. It was then that I would have first heard ‘C’est La Vie’ by denim clad girl band B*Witched. Being, as all my mates were, firmly into Britpop it must have been that opening little guitar riff that grabbed my attention but the moment those lovely Irish adlibs kicked in it was obvious that this was like no other guitar-based song on my radar.

It was impossible to ignore the infectious pop fun sensibilities of the song and even within the gang of LAAAAADS there were others who had become obsessed with Lindsay, Sinead and the Lynch sisters – Edele and Keavy. I devotedly purchased every format of single in case there was an amazing b-side, remix or bonus track and they proudly and deservedly took their place next to my collection of Oasis albums, singles and rare Japanese imports. This kind of enthusiasm was usually the reserve of young girls fawning over the latest boy band – not boys approaching adulthood.

I’m not sure what became of most of the gang but as I hurtle towards my thirties I’m pretty sure that I’m not alone in still having a soft spot for B*Witched. They really were quite special and anyone who says otherwise would be glad to remember that I foight loike me da.