Fake IDs, fallen governments and an unstoppable drum machine: Carter USM say a final goodbye

It was my older brother who introduced me to Carter USM. When you’re 11 it’s generally your older brother who gets you in trouble.

The year was 1992 and the smell of revolution was in the air. The Cold War ended, Yugoslavia imploded, Los Angles burned, and I was getting ready to move to big school.

These were crazy times.

As revolutions raged, cities fell and my primary school classmates and I prepared to go our separate ways into an uncertain future of French classes, extended school days and the very real prospect of being beaten up behind the bike sheds by the older kids, there was a desperate need for heroes.

In the anarchy of a world yet to discover Coldplay, a CD with a blue and yellow cover and ten short songs was about to change everything.

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