Everything was set to be massive for the launch of the South Beach show. All the stops had been pulled out; action figures, bed linen, curtains, toasters, underwear, cat flaps and crack pipes were all being sold with Miami Vice branding slapped all over it. And this was before the show had even started. Everywhere you looked were billboards and all people spoke about was Miami. So at 7pm on September 16th 1984, every man and his dog was crowded around their television sets with great anticipation for for the start of what everybody hoped be something amazing. Well, everyone except a good friend of mine.
You see, back then my good friend was at an age where he wasn't allowed to stay at home on his own. So on the morning of the September 16th 1984, my friend, who we'll call Leonard for the sake of this story, was dragged round an art exhibition by his mum.
Leonard wasn't happy about this in the slightest - and his mum was well aware of it. He'd been talking about nothing but Miami Vice for weeks. He had the duvet and the action figures, and now he was being dragged out against his will just hours before the start. However, his mum assured him that he would be home in time for kick off.
So off they went to the launch at some shite art exhibition at some shite art gallery that no one cared about apart from two people; Leonard's mum and a random guy in a knitted red jumper. Leonard saw this as a good thing. Due to the fact there were so little people there, surely they could get in and out quick enough to get home and have beans on Miami Vice encrusted toast before the opening credits? Well, apparently not.
It was the sort of art gallery that people moved round as if they were cars being followed by the police. They were moving incredibly slowly and there was absolutely no overtaking. So to Leonard's dismay, he couldn't believe his luck when they got stuck behind the only other person in the whole gallery. It was the guy in the knitted red jumper.
Not only was he wafting round the exhibiting at such a slow pace it made a snail look like Linford Christie circa '92, but he was listening to one of those audio narrators that give you further detailed information on each piece of art.
The look was not good and the situation was even worse. But there was nothing he could do about it. Being only eight meant Leonard couldn't drive, and being miles away meant he couldn't walk. So he just had to suck it up and take it.
The guy in the knitted red jumper got slower as his little audio friend wouldn't shut up. Seconds grew into minutes, whilst minutes grew into hours, and hours subsequently meant that little Leonard missed the first ever episode of Miami Vice. He was gutted. And it was all due to the man in the knitted red jumper and his little audio friend.
So, why am I telling you this now? I recently received an email from a now fully grown Leonard. The email quite simply said; 'This man owes me my childhood'. The email displayed a link to the new Arctic Monkeys video for their latest single, 'Cornerstone'.
The track is off their forthcoming album Humbug, and the video showcases Alex Turner wearing a knitted red jumper whilst singing into an old audio recorder. Now for Leonard this brought back memories of pain, hurt and missing the start of something great. However, this video for everyone else is purely a visual aid for watch is a truly brilliant song.
'Cornerstone' pulls on the Arctic's of old. It is beautifully constructed track that is home to some fantastically intelligent lyrics. There aren't many better songwriters about than Turner. His wordsmithery has helped to install the Arctic Monkeys as a rock & roll heavyweights. And if Cornerstone is a reflection of where Turner is at right now with his lyrics, I'm excited about the future.
