A Midwesterner under the Influence of Rock and Roll
Album #2: Electric Light Orchestra, Discovery (Jet Records, 1979)

by tonydoug wright

While the story remains unchanged, the names and places have been changed to protect the innocent. Uncle Pepe, 13 years my senior, played the role of ‘hip uncle’ for a number of years. He always gave the gift of music for Christmas and birthdays. Albums and cassettes from cool artists were his thing. Uncle Pepe purchased ELO’s Discovery, the second album of my rock and roll journey for my sixth birthday.

A few weeks before my sixth birthday, Uncle Pepe called and asked my mom the albums I wanted. He always did this before a birthday or Christmas. Uncle Pepe would get his list and make his way to the record store. ELO’s ‘Don’t Bring Me Down’ was a 1979 radio hit; I was a big fan of the song, so it was a no-brainer for my birthday list.

My sixth birthday was somewhat memorable. It was a cool fall day in Springfield, Ohio. I was just another face at the George Rogers Clark City School. My teacher made a paper crown for me because I was the birthday boy. Somewhere in a non-acid free picture book is a snapshot of your hero proudly wearing his crown.

The party was that evening and it was the typical family get-together. Uncle Pepe’s gift to me was ELO’s Discovery. It was on vinyl not an evil 8-track. ‘Don’t Bring Me Down’ was all I knew when it came to ELO and Discovery was my introduction to the band. The album cover for Discovery caught my attention because it featured a young Persian prince holding something that resembled a Simon game. On the back of the album cover was an angry guard unsheathing a sword. Apparently the young prince was not supposed to discover the ELO-Simon object. Maybe it was the early days of the Taliban so perhaps listening to rock and roll music earned you a date with Mr. Sword.

For those of you that read my first entry, you’ll recall the family stereo system located in our dining room. Kiss Destroyer was a popular selection but Discovery was on the heavy rotation list as well. While Destroyer gave me a nice dose of angst-rock, Discovery was my daily dose of disco-inspired pop.

Yes, Discovery was an album that irritated the hardcore ELO fans. I remember reading an article where they referred to the album as Disco-Very. But this album was my first ELO experience and a certain six year old in the Midwest was impressed with ‘Shine A Little Love’, ‘Confusion’, ‘The Diary of Horace Wimp’, ‘Last Train to London’, and ‘Don’t Bring Me Down’. The song ‘Last Train to London’ had a funky little bass line at the beginning and I thought that was pretty cool.

I played the hell out of Discovery. My dad even did something special to the family stereo to make my listening experience much better. He ran a connection from the stereo to some speakers in our basement. The living room was OK but I could only play my records or 8 tracks at certain times. With the new connection, I could put on side one, run down to the basement, and act a fool while Discovery played in the background.

As I got older, Discovery went from heavy rotation to a box in a closet filled with other albums. Every-so-often I’d get the album out and play a few songs. The music of ELO still sounded great. I wondered why I kept the album in the closet. I was young, I was foolish, plus my music appreciation skills were low.

Let’s jump to Easter 1997. I went over to see my good friend, Ryan Dellwood. Let me give you a quick history on Dellwood. We went to high school together and spent many classes debating what was cooler: classic rock or college rock. Dellwood was home for Easter and I had not seen him for months. Dellwood was teaching and I was into my third month of graduate school. We talked in his parent’s kitchen; his grandfather walked in and joined in the conversation. He must have heard something in our voices. Dellwood’s grandfather asked what our plans were for the summer. We had no plans. He told us to go to Europe. Dellwood and I decided right then and there to make a trip to Ireland and Britain.

Dellwood and I purchased plane tickets, obtained our passports, purchased two rail passes, and saved plenty of cash for the summer trip. We flew from Dayton, Ohio to Newark, New Jersey so that we could wait a few hours for a plane to take us to Ireland. Although we made the decision to make the trip three months earlier, we never made any travel plans.

Dellwood had been to Ireland a few years earlier so he had some knowledge of the emerald isle. We both purchased travel guides and they provided us with some ideas for lodging, sight seeing, and everything else. While we sat in the airport in Newark we decided to make some plans. We were to land in Shannon, Ireland, a west coast city, the next morning. Dellwood said we should spend a few days on the west coast of Ireland. It was the plan.

The flight was the longest damn flight of my life. We landed in Ireland. We were on our own in Europe.

We spent our first week along the west coast. We spent the second week on the east coast in the Dublin area. Our third week started off on the southeast coast of Ireland. Although the trip was going well, we had made a tough decision during the second week not to visit Britain. Why? I have no idea.

It was a Sunday, we were walking around a seaside city, plus we were tired and hungry. The day had not gone our way. We were restless. Dellwood and I made our way back to the bed and breakfast where we stayed. For some reason, I had reached a breaking point. I was lying on the bed when I said “Fuck it, we’re going to London.”

Dellwood and I took a bus to the ferry station. We stood in line with other travelers. This one girl from South America had her dirty socks pinned to her backpack. A drunken guy stood behind her making faces to his friends after he smelled her socks. Dellwood told me he was in the mood for pancakes and two German girls overheard his statement and thought that was the most bizarre statement they ever heard in their lifetime. God were those two girls ugly. One had teeth like Freddie Mercury. I thought the other one was a dude at first.

The ferry was nice but the Guinness and whiskey made the trip even better. Dellwood was sauced. I saw the German girls. I made mental note that if we deiced to romance the young fraulines then Dellwood would take one for the team with the androgynous one.

We landed in Wales. A kind couple drove us to the bus station. A bus took us to the train station. We were to take the last train of the day to London. That’s when the music got stuck in my head. It was a funky little bass line. I knew the line. Of course, it was ‘Last Train to London’ from Discovery.

‘Last Train to London’ may not be a familiar song, so check out this YouTube clip to familiarize yourself with the song. On a side note, the bass player in the clip looks like Morgan Spurlock.

Dellwood and I arrived in London a little past midnight. We had no idea where we were but both of us were determined to find a place to sleep. I spotted a cab driver outside the train station and he told us to walk a block or two for hotels. Two tired travelers walked two blocks and discovered a handful of hotels. One was named after a famous British writer so Dellwood and I decided that was our place of rest. That funky little bass line was still in my head.

The hotel was an absolute dump. I’m not one hundred percent certain but I think the place was run by the Russian mafia. Dellwood and I dealt with two of their goons at the front desk. One of the goons wanted my passport number so I provided the goon with some bogus info. Take that you commie. I kid, I joke, and I love Russians.

One of the Russian goons walked us to our room. It was small and the beds went from wall to wall. Dellwood had to crawl over my bed to get to his bed. The pillows had a few dead bugs on them so the two of us decided to sleep at the Russian pit from hell and make our way to a nicer place the next morning.

I thought about taking a shower the next morning but the shower was a small closet with a garden hose and a drain. It’s a shame when you realize that a prison has a better set-up than the place you’re staying. Despite the third world conditions, I still had that funky little bass line in my head.

Dellwood and I stayed at a hostel run by Quakers. It was paradise compared to the Gulag. We spent a few days in London and that funky little bass line faded away.

There will be more stories about Ireland and Dellwood. I promise you that because they all play a part in my rock and roll journey.

A year or two following my trip with Dellwood, I stopped by a CD store, and purchased a used copy of Discovery. The music still sounded great and I wondered to myself why I never purchased Discovery on CD until that day. I skipped the CD to track five, ‘Last Train to London’, and heard that funky little bass line. The memories of the Ireland-Britain trip with Dellwood came rushing into my head.

While there is a great deal of love in my heart for Discovery, I never purchased another ELO album. I’m not a hater because the need to buy their catalog never took me. Yes, I purchased a Greatest Hits tape, but do those really count? So why is Discovery an important album in my life? Discovery is a collection of fine pop music that still sounds great to this very day. Discovery is one of those albums that make me feel good plus it reminds me of a great summer trip and days wasted playing in the basement of my childhood home. I plan on going back to Ireland and London someday. Although Dellwood may not be there, I will be travelling with my lovely and wonderful wife. If we make our way to London via train then there will be this funky little bass line in my head.