You had to be there

This was the soundtrack to Sunday nights. At 6:30 pm, the lights dimmed inside Durham’s Riverside rink. The bass throbbed, an electronic ‘plink’ sent a shiver down the spine. Spotlights swirled, the melody kicked in, and the Wasps took to the ice.

The soundtrack, every week, was Rendezvous IV by Jean Michel Jarre. Despite ice hockey’s love of soft rock (even today, it’s rare to get to the end of a game without hearing a blast of Europe, Bon Jovi or Survivor) this was Durham’s tune. It was always French synth pop that prefaced each sporting rendezvous.

Yet it was utterly naff. Even Jarre himself was unimpressed with the track, notwithstanding its success as a single and a live track. His sound manages to combine high concept and limited inspiration, creating a kind of pompous elevator music. At its best, it can be fun in an overblown way. It’s no accident that Jarre’s live shows were son et lumiere epics, lasers and fireworks to the fore; the special effects have plenty of heavy lifting to do if they are to sustain the mediocre music. Sadly, this track isn’t Jarre at his best.

Moreover, in Durham it was not booming from the kind of state-of-the-art kit that powered the Docklands live show (see YouTube clip). Rather, it rattled around a tin shed of an arena using a far more primitive sound system.

Years later, I’m listening again and trying to make sense of why this still means something to me. Musically, it’s everything I hate. The team is long gone, leaving a heap of bright yet bittersweet memories. Then, in a cinema overlooking the site of a long-demolished ice rink, I find something of an answer. The excellent Lewis Hobson and Carl Joyce are telling Durham’s skating story, and in their documentary they interview the hockey-night DJ at the rink.

There’s a twinkle in John’s eye, even as he claims an assist for a trophy-laden run: “Rendezvous IV by Jean Michel Jarre. That was the one that started all the winning success we had in the Heineken [British Ice Hockey League] era.

“It was played at the first game we won at Wembley and we copied it ever since as our signature tune.”

That first Wembley playoff win was at the end of the 1986/87 season. I was 11, recently moved to Durham, and fell in love with the Wasps in a heartbeat. Parents reckoned it was safe enough for a group of mates to go unaccompanied. We got to feel like big men, swaggering to Brass Bonanza as the goals flew in. Hockey was vibrant, exciting and accessible. The team won. The soundtrack felt exotic, futuristic. A passion was born.

Decades later, the Wasps are long gone (a long, unhappy story). I’m still involved in hockey and, when chatting to another fan of the right age, mention of Durham always triggers a response. And even a tacky soundtrack flickers back into life.

This is a second entry for Annie Kapur's 'Song of the Century' unofficial challenge. You can read my first, Isherwood-inspired take, here.

And you can check out the challenge here: