Raining on Hope Street – Spinning Coin (2017, Geographic Records, Taken from ‘permo’)
About twelve years ago, I used to go to something called spinning classes. This is for those of you who don’t know, basically sitting on an exercise bike whilst a lad young enough to be your son barks orders at you about “Cranking it up another level” while hi energy dance music blares about the place at an uncomfortably loud level.
You sit there and pedal, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, and occasionally you have to rise out of the seat because apparently, we are “climbing the mountain”. Everyone groans, and wipes the sweat out of their eyes, their midriffs wobbling in time with the bikes, whilst the lad at the front barely breaks into a sweat and ‘Sex on Fire’ blares out in order to spur you on. I look around at the red faces of my colleagues and glance a look in the mirror at the front. If my Sex is on Fire then it is a rubbish one. I’ve never felt so unattractive.
Sex on Fire – Kings of Leon (2008, RCA Records, Taken from ‘Only by the Night’)
I have no idea why I signed up for these classes. I enjoyed the first one, it was something different but by the fourth class I knew all the words to various Katy Perry and Swedish House Mafia songs, and that was never a place I wanted to be.
I walked into my fifth spinning class a bit early, and there was only one other person in there. I exchanged the usual pleasantries. The chap looks vaguely familiar, he wasn’t here last week though. I select a bike at the back because after chatting with a bloke after the class last week, have realised that if you sit at the back, the instructor cannot tell which level you are on, so you can in effect take it easy. Or cheat if you like.
A few women enter the room and the newbie says hello and the ladies all say hi back and then there is some whispering. More people join us, and again they all start whispering when the new guy says hello to them. I know this guy from somewhere I’m sure of it. One of the regulars is talking to him now, and he is posing for a photograph with them, even the instructor is getting in on the act now. Then it dawns on me who this chap is.
He is a television presenter. He is fairly famous – in fact he is far more famous now than he was then, but even so, famous enough for women and men in lycra to get a bit giddy with excitement just by being in the same room as them. He is he tells us in town ‘recording’. I sit there on my bike whilst everyone talks to the presenter. A man comes over to me and asks if the presenter is “somebody important or something”. I pretend I have no idea. I am also relieved that I am not the only one who isn’t queuing for a photo with him.
Eventually the class gets going and its awful. Normally the instructor sits there and barks orders at us. Today he sings along to the music and encourages everyone to join in. He looks me square in the eye when he notices that I am not singing along to whatever cheesy pop song is playing at the time, “You at the back, I can’t hear you” he yells – and everyone looks at me. I frown and pedal slightly faster.
Spinning Coin are a band from Glasgow who are signed to the Geographic Label (or were). A label owned by members of the Glasgow indie band The Pastels. Spinning Coin sound a lot like The Pastels, which is of course a very good thing indeed.
Albany – Spinning Coin (2016, Geographic Records, Taken from ‘Albany’ single)
Crawl Babies – The Pastels (1986, Glass Records, Taken from ‘Up for a Bit with the Pastels’