You and your closest mates meet up in your parents’ garage to spend another Friday night the same way you always do. You drink kiwi lager from the can and give each other shit about which girls you fancy. Later on you plan on going to see whatever live band is playing at the Gladstone, but for now, you attempt to make a dent into the record collection you and your mates have amassed. You bicker and banter over who gets to pick the next song, you line up the needle and drop it. You’re not sure what it is, but you feel something special. You take another swig of beer. Life is good.
The year is 1999.
You haven’t spoken to some of your mates in years. That girl you fancied became a little bit more than you ever expected. You’ve got a kid of your own and another on the way. You’ve got your own place now. It’s not a lot, but it's yours. Your garage is nothing more than storage space, and your once prized possessions are slowly getting buried alive by prams, bikes and toys. The 80s become synonymous for neon and spandex, which isn’t the way you remember it at all. But between your family and full-time job, you’re too busy to dig up any memories, so you begin to forget. And yet, life is good.
The year is 2019.
You’ve secured a pretty decent job and have moved into a house that the Mrs fell in love with. Your kids aren’t exactly kids anymore, in fact, one of them is already talking about moving out. The garage is once again your place of sanctuary, except now you’re hiding from your kids instead of your parents. One day when you’re surfing radio stations, you’re caught off guard by a song you hadn’t thought about for thirty years, and yet somehow you know all the words. In that moment you’re taken right back to 1985 when you heard it for the first time. You remember your youth. Your old friends. Your old house. You’re not sure what it is, but you feel something special. The song ends, and another one just as good plays. Life is great.
We are The Garage. Playing your 80s. The real 80s. The alternative 80s.