The Soundtrack of My Life

I’ve been writing regularly for this magazine for two years now in the “Historically Queer” column. I write about the stories and lives of people from the past. That requires a lot of research – and I love it! Today, however, I’m writing about my own story and a very specific song that has accompanied and shaped me throughout my life. It’s a song that spoke directly to my soul, and when I hear it today, that time in my life feels more vivid than any other.

1984 wasn’t just the title of George Orwell’s most successful novel; it was also the year the British band Bronski Beat had their first big hit – “Smalltown Boy.”

I was 18 years old and had to repeat a grade because I’d failed math. My parents had decided to transfer me from a technical high school in the capital to the high school in our small town. I resisted with all my might, but it was no use. I struck a deal with my mother that I could go back if it didn’t work out. But strangely enough, it worked out quite well, because I immediately found my place in the school theater group. What I didn’t know at the time was that I’d still be making a living in theater to this day!

I don’t remember exactly when I first heard the song, but lead singer Jimmy Somerville’s operatic falsetto voice hit me like a bomb. “Smalltown Boy” was incredibly danceable and immediately filled the dance floor – even at the little village disco I was allowed to go to every now and then.

But let’s not kid ourselves: it was the ‘80s in Luxembourg. Being gay was an absolute no-go. If, like me, you unconsciously let it show, teasing, harassment, and even physical altercations were the order of the day. Especially in public spaces like that little village disco, it could get particularly bad, depending on the crowd. It wasn’t an easy time.

Half a year later, I bought the album The Age of Consent by Bronski Beat on cassette for my Walkman. Inside was a small booklet with all the lyrics, and for the first time, I understood what the song meant. I can still see myself today walking down the big staircase next to the basilica toward the schoolyard and realizing for the first time that I was the one the song was about.

If my despair had been great enough, I really could have been the one standing alone in the wind and rain with a little black case at the bus station in my old hometown. But as a rational person, I probably would never have dared to do that back then.

A year later, however, a younger classmate – who was also in the theater group – had put those words into action because she could no longer stand living at her parents’ house. She had emptied her savings account and made it all the way to Amsterdam. Two months later, she was found in a warehouse at the harbor, where she had hanged herself…

Unlike Boy George and George Michael, who were already established stars with their respective bands but had been forbidden by their producers from coming out publicly, the three musicians from Bronski Beat made no secret of it from the very beginning.

They didn’t perform as flamboyant, colorful characters, but in combat boots, jeans, and plaid shirts. That was the look of many young people back then. As a result, the band was very approachable, and people could identify with them.

When I think back today on all these queer stars, it also strikes me that a great many people who completely rejected gay men and lesbians were nonetheless singing along loudly to their songs on the dance floor, without knowing what they were actually singing.

That was over 40 years ago. In 2024, Jimmy Somerville posted a short video on his YouTube channel reminiscing about “Smalltown Boy.” The TV channel Arte aired a wonderful documentary about him and all his contemporaries from that era, which moved me to tears. And somewhere deep inside me, there’s still that little boy standing alone on the train platform in the rain. But he no longer gets on the train. He arrived a long time ago…