If you’re of a certain age – one where you now find yourself desperately clinging to those final dreggs of youth as the maw of middle age widens – 2008 was the halcyon days of our lives. It was a year where many of us where knee deep in our teenage angst, when our days where spent trying to gain the attention of our first romantic interests against the backdrop of H&M’s and Blue Banana’s filled with merchandise of questionable origin. We spent our days idling around city centres and our evenings drinking bottom shelf vodka that would now qualify as hand sanitizer. It was the year where everything seemed possible and Myspace reigned supreme. And soundtracking all of this was Waited Up ‘Til It Was Light, the ceremonial debut from Johnny Foreigner.
It’s difficult to think of a record that captures the zeitgeist of a late naughties adolescence more than Waited Up ‘Til It Was Light. An explosive outburst of high octane mathy noise pop, the record captures those gilded days perfectly both sonically and thematically. The tales and songs within resonated with us in a way that felt cinematic, tailored and it’s nigh on difficult to look back on our teenage wins and losses without songs such as ‘Lea’s Room’, ‘Eyes Wide Terrified’ and ‘Yr All Just Jealous’ ringing faintly in the background. But despite such nostalgic traits, the record does something that a lot of albums from back then doesn’t; it actually stands the test of time. Even without our personal histories attached to it, Waited Up ‘Til It Was Light is still an impecable record of infectious excitement and unbridled creativity, one that longs to be soundtrack to new misguided adventures even in our adult lives.
So with that in consideration, and in celebration of the record’s re-release via Alcopop records, we got vocalist and guitarist Alexei Berrow to look back and break down Waited Up ‘Til It Was Light, track by track.
Related: Johnny Foreigner – Waited Up ‘Til It Was Light | Re-Release Review
“OK, so I haven’t sat and listened to this as a whole album since it came out and I wasn’t entirely sure it’d be a pleasurable experience. I have a two year cringe gap with my own shit and there’s a lot of ugh lyrics (‘cos I didn’t know any better) and some out of tune singing (“it’s fine, it shows character”) that we also didn’t really have the skills to argue.”
“We gave producer Gene Freeman (aka Machine) Urusei and Cap’n Jazz records as reference, and were kinda shocked when he produced this polished and sparkly and punchy record. Like, we didn’t sound this good live and we thought, quite militantly, that records should be honest reflections of where bands were at. Out of all the decisions where adults have overruled us, that’s the one I’m most grateful for. It sounds alright ‘dunnit. Really quite proud of it, not a bad 3 weeks of work.”
Lea’s Room
“I don’t know if this song has so much of a meaning as much as it’s just a postcard from a hyper specific moment in our lives. We were already at the point where you realise that being in a band takes up a whole chunk of your twenties that could arguably be put to more practical use and thus song is mostly humblebragging about stepping onto the rollercoaster. We came back from this session with a single 2 week tour booked and ended up spending maybe 40 days at home before the next record so it was pretty prescient I guess.”
“So I’m going to avoid mentioning every time I cringe at a lyric but there’s a fair few clangers here. I still get mardy when people misspell my name though. I love that this record starts with that default Casio SA-21 tone that went on to be a staple of everything we did afterwards. Our label was (justifiably) wary about how much synth sounds date a record so using a 90’s child’s toy was a nice dumb work around; I’d like to say it was planned but it was pretty much all we could afford.”
Our Bipolar Friends
“Ugh at that edgelord title. I guess this was nominally about attention seeking club friends and how that behaviour was more problematic than any of the issues they fake. I’d like to think I’m less dismissive these days, and I’ve made a lifetime of being dramatic and attention seeky so full circle I guess.”
“This song has lurked around setlists for years, it sounds way better with two guitars. Also cringe lyrics (I lied about not mentioning) but also a couple lines I’m still proud of. And honestly, that party scene I walked in on haunted me for years and the unmarked car put me in hospital for 8 months; there’s definitely some therapeutic value in getting to publicly scream about that stuff thousands of times.”
Eyes Wide Terrified
“I feel like this song means so much to so many different people that I’m reticent to clarify what or who it’s actually about. I spent a weekend being drunk in London and finished the lyrics last minute on the bus, on the way to a BBC session where we wanted to play it, so I’m sure that seeped in somewhere. But if you think it’s actually about you, that’s fine too I guess.”
“Jesus fucking Christ this is fast. We recorded the basic tracks live as a band and Machine would act like a conductor, screaming encouragement over headphones or rolling around the floor as we played. Also been a standard in our set since ever, though we spent a couple years playing it at double speed and claiming it was a Blink 182 cover. It’s super fun to play though.”
Cranes and Cranes and Cranes and Cranes
“Pretty sure the indie guitar world didn’t really need any more boys singing about architecture and being friend-zoned at this point but everything in this song still holds true today. I know that gentrification is an inevitable part of city life but it’s hard not to take personally when it’s your pubs and clubs being shut down. Progress, i guess.
“We were turfed out our city centre studio we’ve held for a decade last year and instead of bougie housing it’s become a fucking adult ball pit, honestly too tired to work out if that’s irony. Also, the ending made me actually laugh out loud because I’d completely forgotten about it and it sounds like we all just fall over at the same time.”
The End and Everything After
“This song is a bit of a lot. It’s for our friends Chow Chow, an amazing band we were planning on being bff’s forever with until their singer died. That shared band-insecurity of trying to put on a transcendent awesome live show but knowing you’re merely the turn for the night. Being drunk and post show euphoric when everyone around you is waiting to go home. Nothing changes I guess.”
“And this is just silly fast. Was actually a semi- rerecording, Machine freaked out a couple days before we were due to leave, because his version was slower than the Arcs version. The vocals are transferred from our first attempt and it winds me and Kel up no end because we hear our breaths in the ‘wrong’ places, but no one else ever notices. We’ve resurrected it recently, can almost play it this fast even tho we’re super old.”
Hennings Favourite
“Prime mid 00s’ anti indie club angst. Wasn’t so much the garage rock itself as much as the coked up local divs that embraced the fashion but not the spirit. Don’t think I’d be as angry about it now, also progress, I guess.”
“Another song that really benefits a two guitar arrangement. This was definitely our attempt at ripping off Minus The Bear, I’ve unconsciously developed the tappy bit so this sounds kinda simplistic now. Sadly the pointyshoed folk have also developed broader shoe taste and are less easy to spot. I think this is our only song with a fade-out ending?”
Salt, Pepa and Spinderella
“In which a promisingly hyped indie band completely blow their momentum by getting their video banned cos MTV’s epilepsy auto filters couldn’t cope with the contrast of Jun’s skin and the sky. This was never meant to be a real song; just something we wrote for a Kerrang unplugged session and thought would be silly fun to add a huge guitar/doot doot outro. Named because that’s who we looked like rehearsing it, and then I later realised the cheap plastics seats it was set in was actually called Salt n Pepper. Cosmic synergy, I guess.”
“This song has definitely been on more set lists than it hasn’t, there’s barely any guitars for the first three mins so it’s a nice sweat-break. Cringe hard at my voice here to be honest, probably the one thing I’d go back and change. But also prolly our most famous song so what do I know.”
Yes! You Talk Too Fast
“The song we recorded the most of all, this the superior version because i finally get the silly woosh sound at the start where everything kicks in. About a friend who totally did speak too fast and I was too shy to say. ‘If You Can’t Be Honest’ from Mono No Aware is a kinder older brother to this song, everything turned out fine I guess.”
“We played this on and off for ages, it’s on the maybe list right now, it’s super fun but there’s so much vocals it ruins us for the next few minutes. Kel’s screaming sounds dope here, we sung it facing each other at the same time like an actual argument. Machine really knew how to get the best out of us.”
DJs Get Doubts
“Three of my friends think this is about them but really it’s an amalgam of all three. We had a lovely session lady called Megan come in and track six different violin parts and ended up using all of them. Was super painful to record though, we did all the noisy stuff first and had to reglue my shredded fingers together. Which is still slightly more pleasant than the desensitised calloused fingertip pads I have now, I guess.”
“This is quite lovely ain’t it. Not sure anyone apart from us thought it was a good idea to break up the album with an acoustic Christmas song but glad we did. Don’t tell 28 year old me but I’m actually sort of pals with Shaun Walsh now.”
Sometimes In The Bullring
“Probably the oldest and most “wah wah friendzone” song on the record. Forever explaining to people that The Bullring is a shopping centre and the song is less exotic than they assumed. But we’re still friends so that counts for something I guess.”
“Gosh theres just so -much- of this song, so many sections, so much going on. I remember tweaking the lyrics and me and Kel having a barney cos she didn’t wanna change hers to match. Couldn’t tell you which lyrics now tho, it’s all just one big drunk dramatic whinge, which I totally mean as compliment. This is the song I was looking forward to revisiting the least and I’m smug to say I still really like it.”
Yr All Just Jealous
“Smart we unconsciously start and (sort of) end on Being A Band Is Hard songs. We had a running argument over the ending sections of this song, it kinda evolved in a stumble way that made no real sense and Machine (sensibly) wanted us to rethink it and question why we arranged it the way we did. He won, he was so insistent he set an alarm to call me in a year’s time, where I’d apologise for being wrong. And we happened by sheer coincidence to be having dinner 12 months later. He was like, it says to call you, no idea what that’s about, shrugged and carried on. Producer genius, I guess.”
“More cringe humblebrag lyrics, as was the fashion of the time. I think the sentiment has aged well even if the harmonies maybe haven’t. And I’m really glad we got to take advantage of the soon to be gone CD era where you could segue tracks into each other.”
Absoute Balance
“So this started off as part of a song called ‘Balance, Girl’, then ended up as the outro to a song called ‘Yr All Just Jealous Of My Von Dutch Hat’ which is mostly the same song as this and at some point pre recording they both developed into separate siblings. The recording really cemented it, prior to this it was super loose and unarranged, the feedback would depend wildly on what guitar I had and how drunk I was, and the speechy lyrics improvised each night. ‘Same records, same shoes, same hair’, from a time when we could be tribal about such things I guess.”
Credit to Will Putney, the assistant producer who spent a whole day tracking me making silly guitar whale sounds and then a whole night assembling them into what you hear in the first section. The vinyl book is going to come with all the lyrics, speech included, mostly cos I got upset reading all the attempts at guessing on internet lyric sites.”
The Hidden Song At The End Of The Record
“Such an old song, this is from an era when me and Kel lived together. We worked in the same record store and would regularly call sick for each other. Also predates my weird guitar tuning so became impractical to play live. The gang vocals on this record was supposed to be with Los Campesinos! but their flight got cancelled so we roped in the studio crew and any of their pals who could stop by and made a party of it. Shame they were mostly all dudes but that’s the music industry I guess.”
Kel never wanted to drop this song and made us promise we’d record it if anyone was gullible enough to sign us for an album. Fun fact, this was never supposed to have a name but needed one for registration, and somehow that name got onto the promo CD. People thought we were being arch and meta but really we were just disorganised, story of our lives.”
The re-release of Waited Up ‘Til It Was Light is out now via Alcopop Records.