Any love my Dad has for Kate Bush is just an extension of the love he has for me. He has told me multiple times about how in his youth Wuthering Heights was number two on the music channel charts for — in his opinion — too long. How he had to suffer through the wily windy moors every time to listen to number one. Dad does his own fantastically terrible rendition of the song sometimes when it’s playing.1 Yet, he still wanted me to send him every Wuthering Heights video I made over lockdown.
When the first lockdown was announced I saw a meme about doing the Wuthering Heights dance once a day, but not letting Kate Bush in your window. Within the first two weeks of lockdown there was an online chat made with two of my friends where we would send videos of us doing just that. Contributions from my friends’ faded as time went on, but — fortunately or unfortunately — for them I was unshakably committed. It was something easy to accomplish, something to get me moving, to keep me slightly sane, plus, you could get creative with it. One day I embarrassed my brother by making him film me spinning around in the middle of a roundabout wearing one of my Nana’s old petticoats, which was a wonderful shade of pink.
I first listened to Kate Bush properly in January 2019. My friend Rosemary and I had been to a gig at Whammy, and on the way home she announced that she was going to play a song she reckoned I’d like. So, we listened to Wuthering Heights. I’m pretty sure it played as we drove through the Victoria Park tunnel. I can’t tell if that’s an accurate memory, or rather it’s now part of my perception of the truth because it makes for an apt detail. We did drive through the Victoria Park tunnel, and we did listen to Wuthering Heights, and the possible synchronicity of the two — however (in)accurate — adds some coming of age pizzazz.2 Wuthering Heights makes you feel like you’re floating despite a sense of manic melancholy — very coming of age. Tunnels are also rife with symbolism: re-birth, transition between worlds, deep dives into ones psyche before enlightenment — all very Kate Bush coded.
After Rosemary played me Wuthering Heights it must have been love at first sound, or at least intrigue at first sound. Later that month I insisted on playing some Kate Bush on a road trip to a camping spot up north. At the said camping spot, Wuthering Heights was played when brushing our teeth in the communal toilets, and on the beach during a semi-topless dancing session. Wuthering Heights is fundamental Kate Bush for many reasons, but one reason in particular is that it’s made to be danced to. I was on this holiday with my friend Ella, together we would go on to be two thirds of my Kate Bush lockdown chat. Once she spent three and a half hours editing together my videos from that chat to make a complete Wuthering Heights length compilation.
On my 22nd birthday I made my family learn the Wuthering Heights dance, Dad accidentally hit Mum in the face while spinning around at the beginning of the first chorus. I know they only participated because people have to do what you tell them to on your birthday, but still, every one of them put in the effort to mimic me mimicking Kate Bush as best as they could.
Tate and I took Kate Bush on a walk one day — “Kate Bush” being a poster version that adorned our shared city apartment. We photographed her peering through the window of The Lighthouse installation. The photos aren’t of great aesthetic, but I still think the joke is top tier. Tate was my videographer for the most recent lockdown. She has frequently captured me haunting Heathcliff all over a ghostly Auckland CBD.
I remember at my friend Aniwa’s party a few years ago Teah put on Wuthering Heights, because she said she associated it with me. A mix of an unintimidating and small audience, the right amount of substance abuse, and some immaculate energy from those sitting on the deck led to us all whirling around in the late-autumn air to the operatic tones of KB.3 The same people, but a different setting, provided the goods once again; this time it was summer in Basque Park. We sat right in the middle of the wiccan-fae-esque circle of rocks and blasted the music from a little speaker. Aniwa turned up the volume as loud as it could go, testing the limits of our embarrassment — but our love for Kate Bush had no shame.
There is so much that could be said about Wuthering Heights in relevance to Kate Bush lore. It’s got story-telling, theatricality, and horror elements, plus two killer choreographed music videos. But, what I think about most when I listen to Wuthering Heights is all the little vignettes where I’m dancing with those I love. I think about the time Liam and I giggled our way through the choreography at 2am and how Katrina requested a Wuthering Heights video when I dyed my hair pink. It’s one of those songs where the opening notes calms the soul because of its complete familiarity.4
Wuthering Heights was a debut single and the origin of an icon, but it is also the origin of how Kate Bush became a part of my expressions of intimacy.
His rendition features a mix of not being able to hit any of the notes and not knowing half of the lyrics, but still singing with gusto. When I sent a video featuring the DB/Bodge rendition to my friends one of them responded with “I think my mum just pissed herself watching this.”
See The Perks of Being a Wallflower. I remember very little from the movie (or book) aside from this scene, but the fact that that is what stuck probably cements the iconography of driving in a tunnel blasting some tunes even more so.
Substance “abuse” was involved, but to be fair it was probably an unnecessary part of the equation as I think things would’ve panned out similarly regardless of intoxication levels.
Co-incidentally the other day I was making a mental list of songs whose first few notes have an immediate soothing effect. Cibo Matto’s Beef Jerky, Grace Jones’ Victor Should Have Been a Jazz Musician, The Twin Peaks theme etc. (Please do share yours).