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Your life in ten songs

 
  

Page: 1(2)3

 
 
Ninjas make great pets
15:07 / 22.06.03
Humm ten eh?

primary school: the songs I remember most from childhood are "If I could save time in a bottle" think its by bread. and my dad treating me to an ascoutic version of the Pink Pather theme on his guitar on sundays.

after that secondary school: the cure "spiderman" and crowded house "weather with you" (summers walking home with friends at 5am doing bad harmonies and laughing til we cry)

college: radiohead "creep" (sung by my entire class whilst drunkenly returning from a trip to Aran Islands..happy days) and the cure "head on a door" (one of the favourite moments of my life was to this tune.. )
Dead Can Dance, the name of the song I cant remember but the start of the concert blew me away

after college: underworld "dirty epic" . Sigur Ros (theme to a weekend of a moment in time and a group in a place that I'll never get to again but cherish that I was in once).

Now: Faithless "postcards" and "wild horses" by the sundays (?) evoke enough emotion to make me simultaniously choke and smile.
 
 
Ninjas make great pets
15:09 / 22.06.03
thats eleven isnt it? drat. how do you edit these things.
 
 
—| x |—
21:27 / 22.06.03
I've got to amend one slot of my ten, so I hope this is OK.

For number 6 I put down "Rocket" by Def Leppard, but upon further reflection, and although there are good connections to aspects of my life with that particular song, more deserving is:

Warakunra and Sometimes by Midnight Oil. Yeah OK, so I'm a big cheater at this so far—eleven songs, amending my list, and substituting one song with two. In this case, these two songs, both from Diesel and Dust, are inexorably linked in my head. I first became aware of this band in my first year of junior high, but didn’t get into them until my last year of junior high. These two numbers began to really carry a force within me regarding the fact that there are vast injustices in the world that can not only be readily recognized and addressed, but that can also be solved in ways that are solutions towards the benefit everyone: “There is enough.” They also serve to remind me that no matter how futile some things may seem and no matter how difficult the road might be, we can’t give up, we can’t sit back and say, “Good enough—I’ve had my fill.” Fuck NO! We’ve got to get back up because life isn’t fair and everyone’s not treated equal and we have the obligation to ourselves to take responsibility and make decisions not only with our own particular best interest in mind but also those of the people we have relations with—any sort of relations.

So you see how these Midnight Oil songs have a tad bit more relevance in shaping who I am today as opposed to the Def Leppard which only fondly recalls who I was, and I still listen to “The Oil” every so often.
 
 
rizla mission
11:06 / 23.06.03
I was gonna give you my contribution to this today, but these fucking shit-filled chucklehead fucking excuses for computers all have broken disk drives..
 
 
rizla mission
13:34 / 23.06.03
OK, finally, here we go;



1.The Beach Boys – I Get Around
My first solid musical memory is from when I was maybe 7 or 8 or 9 years old and I decided I wanted to listen to pop music. I’d only experienced it on children’s TV whilst waiting for the cartoons to come on, and I didn’t really understand what was up with it, but it had a certain kind of weird appeal, and older kids and teenagers were all into it, and I really wanted to be like a cool teenager, so finding out what it was all about was a bit of a scary and exciting prospect. So my parents bought me a really cheap walkman and took me to Woolworths on a Saturday morning to buy a tape. And I didn’t know anything about pop music and had no idea what to go for, so my mum, in an absolutely inspired decision, told me I should get the Beach Boys ‘Summer Dreams’ compilation – and it totally was and is absolutely the most genius POP music ever! I listened to it so much that I still have every note of every Beach Boys hit single memorised in my head ready for playback. I liked the lyrics, even though I probably didn’t understand the stuff about picking up girls etc. – I just liked the idea of these crazy kids cruising around in a mad hotrod car (as depicted on the sleeve of the tape!) having adventures and stuff. The New Kids on the Block were popular at the time and had their own cartoon series, and I totally hated it and wished that the Beach Boys had a cartoon instead. Bizarrely, the only other tape I had at this time was one by Merle Haggard that my dad gave me – I liked the anthemic quality of the songs and the fact that they kind of had stories (and the fact that they were sung by a cowboy), but mercifully my walkman chewed up that tape before it really had time to sink in.

2. Aerosmith – Sweet Emotion
This represents my early obsession with hair metal which began in my last year of primary school when I made a new friend who was into it, and we’d swap tapes and stuff. The seminal influence of my copy of “The Best Rock Album in the World.. Ever” cannot be overestimated. During my first few years in Secondary School I really dug Aerosmith, Bon Jovi, Judas Priest, Ugly Kid Joe, Whitesnake and whatever junk was being played on Virgin radio. Oddly, I don’t recall there being any logical reasoning behind why this music appealed to me so much.. I never thought about why I liked it – I just.. did. I remember listening to a ‘100 best songs ever!’ countdown that Virgin radio did on a bank holiday weekend with aforementioned friend, and showing appropriate respect for Pink Floyd, Led Zep, Queen, Genesis etc. as his rocker dad told us all about them.
Number #4 in this top 100 countdown was the first time I heard…

3. Nirvana – Smells Like Teen Spirit
the stuff written about this song’s importance tends to concentrate on it’s significance as the first record by an ‘underground’ band to be a huge mainstream hit and it’s sociological importance etc., but obviously I was completely unaware of all that baloney when I heard it, and the primal power of this song shouldn’t be forgotten – it was like it rocked more than anything else I’d ever heard by a factor of a thousand, and was a thousand times louder and more aggressive and .. generally better. We’d play it over and over again in the classroom during breaktime, and everyone was so caught up in it that we’d just do absurd things – we’d work out different ways to react to the song in advance – we’d sort of walk up and down pretending to be miserable pedestrians during the quiet bits, and then when the loud bits hit, we’d just be MENTAL, air guitaring and leaping off desks and screaming with complete abandon.. we must have been at a stage of development where we had just a basic connection with the Rock Power, but no notions of self-consciousness to stop us from just acting like fools.. I think that if we’d been exposed to something like Black Flag or the Stooges during this period we’d actually have exploded. And it was just this one song – I must have owned by tape of ‘Nevermind’ for at least two years before I bothered listening past the first three tracks. A few years later of course I rediscovered it and started listening to it in more detail and bought Nirvana’s other albums and became a complete Nirvana fanatic at just about the right time for teenage angst to kick in..


4.Suede – Stay Together
And this is where I turned ‘indie’. The first two ‘grown-up’ / non-metal tapes I bought were this and ‘Saturn 5’ by the Inspiral Carpets, for 99p each. I still think this song sounds amazing – it just had an awful lot of sounds in it that I’d never heard before and it sounded totally sinister and glamorous. The Inspiral Carpets song on the other hand just had a stupidly catchy keyboard riff and lyrics about a spaceship. I think this was not all that long before ‘Brit-Pop Summer’ when I got a job in a Spar shop and bought my first CD player, and spent the summer listening to Oasis, Blur, Sleeper, Pulp et al. Annoyingly though, none of my friends shared this interest – they’d all switched to listening to dance music and superclub compilation albums and stuff, which needless to say I couldn’t get with.


5.Beck – Sissyneck
It may seem a cliché so say so, but when I first heard Odelay it just sounded like .. music from another planet. I didn’t know anything about hip-hop or sampling or funk or folk or any of the other things he was referencing / mixing together, and having previously only really listened to straightforward rock and pop, it was just like .. this music is made by a complete mental person.. obviously I loved the killer tunes, and the surrealist lyrics really connected with my interest in weird books and films and paintings in a way that other music hadn’t, and my reaction was just “Yes! This is music for crazy people – this is my kind of music!” It was my most played CD for about two years or something. I thought the way he’d drop in spoken world samples and transform songs halfway through into something completely different was just the best thing ever. And it seems odd in retrospect, but it really freaked out my friends and family – they were like “what the hell is this? Some kind of weird country n’ western rap thing?? Turn it off!”

6.Helen Love – Does Your Heart Go Boom?
The brit-pop thing helped turn me into an avid Steve Lamacq listener, and by the year I did my GCSEs I was completely hooked. My local town didn’t (and doesn’t) have anywhere that sold records, let alone records of the dodgy indie variety, so I just recorded all my favourite songs off the radio. And still do actually, although obviously my choice of radio show has changed. Most of the stuff I recorded consisted of absolutely forgettable indie fodder crap, but some of it, like this track, was absolutely BRILLIANT; a hyperactive DIY casio imitation of happy hardcore topped with punky thrash guitar fuzz and a girl singing about bombing Kula Shaker concerts – yes!! And when I found out she/they came from Swansea, I was just .. worshipful. And still am! I should have sought them out and pledged eternal devotion, but I assumed that since they’d been played on the radio they’d be dead famous and have loads of fans. Obviously They didn’t, and they’d probably have been .. quite scared. Also worth a mention are Urusei Yatsura and iDLEWiLD who helped crystallise my love fucked up guitar noise and punky chaos (being unaware of their obvious influences - Sonic Youth, Pavement, Jesus & Mary Chain etc. - I thought they were just the coolest), and the largely non-existent ‘brat-pop’ scene, as publicised by the Melody Maker and ‘spearheaded’ by the likes of Gel, Vyvyan, Cheetera and the Chicks, whose records I didn’t have a chance in hell of finding (I’m still looking!); all these girls and boys not much older than me done up in glam-indie fanzine chic playing fucked up, amateurish pop music – just impossibly cool..


7.Ramones – each and every Ramones song
I don’t think there was anything particularly special about how I discovered the Ramones. I just thought they sounded cool and bought one of their CDs.
No explanation necessary – direct hit to the centre of my brain – these guys are God!

8. The Pixies – Bone Machine
I have many, many memories of sitting on my own on the shitty bus ride to and from college blasting ‘Surfer Rosa’ at top volume, confident in the knowledge that none of those fuckers were listening to anything this cool. The Pixies are really weird, and really rock, and wrote fantastic songs and, well, what more is there to say? I think I initially got into them because they were Kurt Cobain’s favourite band. For a month or two I literally listened to nothing but Pixies.


9.The Dead Kennedys – Holiday in Cambodia
Heard this on the radio and was completely floored by it. Bought ‘Give Me Convenience or Give Me Death’ the following week. Tapped directly into my increasingly anarcho politicals, my militant geek outsider complex and the strain of misanthropic humour I was rocking at that particular moment. I’ve always thought of the Ramones primarily as a pop band, so it was the DKs that really introduced me to the notion of punk as an ideology, and of music as direct cultural resistance, and of the importance of righteous ire and so on.

10.Sonic Youth – Kotten Krown
My decision to investigate Sonic Youth was completely deliberate and premeditated. Having absorbed the complete works of Nirvana and the Pixies, I wanted more, and they just seemed like the logical next step. Grant was nice enough to send me a tape of selections from their 80s albums and .. well the first time I listened to it it didn’t connect with it all that much really .. but it did sound really interesting and scary and cool and different, so I gave it a few more listens, and I think this is the track that was playing when it finally clicked – the moment at which the beautiful , trippy, folk melody from the first half of the song slowly reemerges from the spiralling storm of twisted electric hiss and atonal distortion, like the most triumphant, pure, cool thing.. the standard sounds and structures of rock music torn apart and reconstructed into something that sounds like all the glass in a skyscraper shattering in blinding sunlight. Yeah.


And this brings us to about my 18th birthday.. from there onwards I could easily write another ten; Jesus & Mary Chain, Velvet Underground, And You Will Know Us By the Trail of Dead, Wu-Tang Clan, Stooges, Pavement, Mogwai, Bikini Kill, Melt Banana, Patti Smith, Cat Power, the Flaming Lips, Neil Young.. the list is practically endless..
 
 
grant
17:08 / 23.06.03
Awwwww.... I'm all aglow, now.

I can't remember exactly when Sonic Youth clicked for me (it was probably at a live show), but it was exactly the same experience. Like all of a sudden - Oh! Dude! They're ROCK AND ROLL! Only, like, rewritten from the ground up!
 
 
captain piss
20:52 / 23.06.03
James Bond theme tune
When I was about five my brother used to push me around the house in a wheeled armchair while this played on the record player, and I would get really excited.

Simple Minds – Theme from Great Cities
Was really into this when I was nine (a find from perusing older brothers’ record collections). I was also reading Salem’s Lot at the time, and it’s greatly associated with images from the story and what I imagined of spooky American towns at nighttime (hmm, this makes me sound a bit wannabe-deep-moody-youngster, when I was really a bit of a daft wee bugger).

The Cult – She Sells Sanctuary
I recorded the video of this off the Max Headroom TV programme one summer when I was about 11, and played it constantly. It seemed quite mysterious and inexplicable – the singer was obviously a rock star but looked like he was kind of swaddled in strange sheets, and had a head scarf. But it’s very noisy and powerful – I thought it was the best thing ever (it still is, almost)

REM – Pop Song 89
This reminds me of being about 15 or 16 and really looking forward to getting a bit older – seeing gothy girl college students on the bus in the morning and thinking “wow, I can’t wait to be a part of that world”. It’s probably classic listening for awkward young geeks who can’t talk to the opposite sex (well, depending on orientation – ah no, but gay guys don’t really have these problems- do they?).

Psyko- Night Demon
Getting into dance and techno (and weed) as a 17-year old, this was a frequent player on my mate’s car stereo as we cruised around the streets. This song was actually quite eery and ghostly, even though it fits in a genre where people dance around in white gloves and BMX masks. The title fits well.

Acen- Close your Eyes
From the genre labelled at the time as ‘happy hardcore’ (I think), this song evokes a very happy summer, when I was 18. In the memories of this period, the sky always seems a really vivid, hyper-real blue, like a Magritte painting. I remember coming back from nightclubs and then sitting in parks, amongst the trees, from about 5am on, talking in little groups and rolling spliffs. It features a helium-ised Jim Morrison sample (“just close your eyes, forget your name, forget the world, forget the people…”), breakbeats and a deep bass throb that seemed to put speakers to the test. Other memorable songs of the period: ‘Welcome to the future’ by Industrial, and ‘Far Out’ by Sons of a loop-da-loop era.(?)

Doc Scott– Unofficial Ghost
Listened to this lots when I was about 22 – living in a new city (London), going out clubbing and things. Jungle was a popular thing at the time but lots of this kind of music sounded quite chilly and cold. That probably heightened the sense of paranoia or life being some scary futuristic/postmodern drama, as it sometimes seemed (think I’d probably done too many drugs by this point). Actually, this song made me feel like I was part of some big powerful machine, accelerating to fuck knows where (I’m aware that this sounds quite pretentious and shit)

Sultans of Ping - ‘Teenage drug’
Brings to mind a quite grim period when I was 24, in London, very little money, working all the time or getting drunk. Adult life had arrived with a crunching body check and this song made me feel shit about not being a silly teenager anymore (although, it also made me feel great cos it’s brilliant).

Curve – ‘Fait Accompli’
Bright, optimistic summer nights when I was 26, often going round for this girl I was seeing, and listening to this on the train. It was also a groovy time as I’d met lots of nice bods from these very pages, and was living in a very Grant Morrison/Invisibles-influenced headspace. Songs off this and the later album Doppelganger make me think very much of the Invisibles (in fact, think I got hold off this on recommendation from someone off the ‘lith, saying it made them think of the Invisibles – cannae remember).

Dead Can Dance – ‘Host of Seraphim’
Now aged 27 and reading about magick a lot of the time and travelling a little - in Spain at one point. Also dovetails in my mind with the novel Feersum Endjin by Iain M Banks – images of huge colonies of souls living in some vast mythical space and all that sort of thing (y’know?). Well, it probably makes more sense if you know the song – epic stuff (it almost brings a tear to my eye)

Feel vaguely dissatisfied with this, even though I’ve spent ages writing it…ah well. Should probably have mentioned Bob Mould, My Bloody Valentine, Pixies, (oh yeah -and Sonic Youth 'Schizophrenia'!)
 
 
mosh
10:08 / 24.06.03
1. "Jazz" A Tribe Called Quest

Being a kid in New York City, all the mad shit about me I didn't understand, and learning to play the saxaphone because I liked jazz.

2. "Complexity used to be a friend of mine"

I can't remember the proper title, and the bands name is on the tip of my tounge, but listening to this I discovered reading as escapism. I can still feel the tingles of not hearing my family or the city for the first time, of not caring.

2. "Nowhere" Therapy?

Being a teenager. Moving to Finland, being alone and suicidal. I also picked up the nickname "Mosh" at one of their concerts.

4. "Confusion the waitress" Underworld

I'd bought "Second toughest in the infants" for a friend who liked techno, but he didn't invite me to his birthday party, so I kept it. It became both of our's favorite album, and represents and reminds me of all the weird nerdy shit I did as a kid. Probably the happiest I've ever been. It was the perfect music to learn to program to, and still when I really need concentrate I still put that album on, and I still sing along.

5. "Girls grab the boys" Slade

I ended up as a drummer in a high school band, this was the only song we played well, even if we were imitating the Oasis cover. "Gettin drunk and gettin stoned", and, well, belonging for the first time. And the name of the song escapes me again.

6. "7 miles away" The Cannonball Adderly Quintet

13 minutes of soaring bebop that collapses into itself in a four part finale. Every good day I ever had, chemically induced or not.

7. "Cody" Mogwai

Moving back to Ireland. Leaving my friends. Recovering from a nervous breakdown my math teacher had given be. Suddenly I'd found music to wash through me, taking all the anxiety of being a teenager away.

8. "Cliffbright" me

I used to write and play music continuously. It was pretty much my life. But I now have RSI (or Carpal Tunnel Syndrome, depending which doctor's speaking) and I can't anymore, nor can I drive a car, fuck where both people enjoy it, work a proper job, play sports, and I spend most days in pain. But it's not being able to write music that destroys me, and seeing other people play or write music still sends me into tears. "Cliffbright" is the unfinished song I was working on when things went wrong, 3 1/2 years ago, and was ironically about not wanting to jump off cliffs anymore.

9. "All mine" Portishead

How I've felt when I was in love. Doesn't fit into any particular time period, as it's been the same for more then one person. Just wanting to know everything about them, and wanting to be with them all the time. Saying it now I see why things didn't work

10. "Yanqui U. X. O." Godspeed you black emporer

Bit of a cheat as this is a whole album. Getting in a legal battle with my university as an undergrad, being offered a PHD position, then offered bribes to incriminate the lecturer who wanted to work with me, having questions asked in the Irish parliment, going to court, and delaying tactics. Being unemployed for a year as a result, and having to eventually emigrate to find research work that paid, which now turns out to be a false dawn. I think that's enough to justify an album which sounds like one long glorious song.
 
 
suds
11:08 / 24.06.03
rizla, i love that your list included "sissyneck". i really love sissyneck. i remember seeing beck when odelay had just come out at phoenix 1996, and hardly anyone was there to see him & it was such fun because me & my friends made him giggle. and, of course, "bone machine": when i first heard the pixies i was so excited!

jack fear, i know that "i am the very model of a modern major general" song too. it's fucked up, i like the bit where it goes "i have cheerful facts about the square of hypotenuse" the best.
 
 
iconoplast
17:39 / 24.06.03
Paul Revere - The Beastie Boys
The first album I bought. My aunt had bought me The Bangles, but whatever. I remember going into my fourth grade classroom and all the boys were clustered around the tape player in the corner, and someone had brought a copy of Liscence to Ill and the kids who already knew the words were so unspeakably cool.
That summer, in Italy, I translated the lyrics into italian and tried to explain Fight for Your Right to some italian friends. This time, I was the cool one.

Welcome to the Jungle - Guns and Roses
Slouched and hunched in the back of the bus, with this playing as loud as it went on my headphones. That was my definition of badass in junior high school. Mind you, in reality I was just another pudgy geek, but for the duration of the busride I was the meanest motherfucker on the planet.

Epistle to Dippy - Donovan
Boarding School. Psychedelics. No access to popular culture.
I still like this song, and Donovan in general, but it's a bit embarassing that, for a few years, this one really spoke to me, man...

Radio - Rancid
Every day in my senior year of public high school I would lunge out of bed at six thirty, fall into the chair in front of the stereo, and hit play. This song was always left queued the night before. Let's Go was such an amazing album. Every song. And, of course, Rancid led to Op Ivy, so by the time Rancid were hosting 120 minutes, we'd already decided that Op Ivy was the better band.

Wish - Nine Inch Nails
If I ever meet Trent Reznor I'm asking him for the fifty five bucks I had to pay as a result of a speeding ticket I got listening to this song. This song, hell, the band in general, was everything I wanted people to think about me when I was Eighteen. I dyed my hair black, I grew ill-advised dredlocks, and I tore up all my (black) clothing, the better to layer it. I don't think I actually smoked cloves, but I probably wasn't far away.

Sonic Youth - Distance Equals Rate Times Time
I'd left the city and was back in my hometown. I was pumping gas and going to state school. Someone made me a mix that had this song on it. I knew Sonic Youth were cool and indie and had all kinds of credibility with the musicsnobs. I hadn't realized they were good.
This song will forever be mixed with the smell of gasoline and early morning hangover nausea, and with the righteous anger I felt pumping the gas of the suburbanites who failed to recognize my evident superiority to their plebean breed.

Get it Together - The Beastie Boys
I didn't guess the Beasties would make this list twice. But, as it happens, everyone was listening to them for a year in Paris. We'd request them at the bars, sing them in the streets, and llisten to them at our parties. I imagine still that if I walked into the Leeson Street Pub on Rue St. Sulpice tomorrow, the bartender would grin at me, pull a pint of Heineken and ask, "Track Eleven, Paul's Boutique?"

Airbag - Radiohead
When this album hit it was everywhere. Every party. Every car. And when this song opened, everyone would get this little smile, and all the conversations would pause, just for a moment. Because this was the band that we all felt. The Bends, I think, said it better - I wish it was the sixties, I wish I could be happy, I wish something would happen - but this song meant that we'd all felt it.

Godless - The Dandy Warhols
I have adored this band ever since I first heard them. I won most of my friends over when thirteen tales came out. It was on what we called "heavy rotation" in the apartment three of us shared in the loft above a barn.
It also took me months after I'd moved out and gotten clean to hear this song without a sudden anxious moment. The first three tracks on this album, which are arguably a single song, were the soundtrack to the shooting gallery that our apartment became.

Placebo - Commercial for Levi
The present. I just discovered Placebo after hearing their 20th century boy cover at a dance club.
 
 
Matthew Fluxington
17:44 / 24.06.03
Sonic Youth - Distance Equals Rate Times Time

Are you sure that's the title of the song?

Because that's a Pixies title.

And I'm 99.9% that Sonic Youth have never recorded a cover of that song, or any Pixies song for that matter.
 
 
iconoplast
17:53 / 24.06.03
Er.


*abashed*

Right. Pixies.

You know... I always wondered why I'd never figured out which Sonic Youth album that was off of.
 
 
Matthew Fluxington
18:06 / 24.06.03
If it helps, it's on the Pixies album Trompe Le Monde.
 
 
iconoplast
18:28 / 24.06.03
Huh.

Now I'm nervous. It better be as good as I remember it being.
 
 
gingerbop
19:05 / 24.06.03
very youngness-
Summertime, and Girl from Epinina (not sure of title at all, but something around that);
Parental units played soley jazz compelations, almost every one of which featured these two.

about 7-
No Limits- 2 unlimited, and Scat Song by Scatman John;
They first music my brother and me listened to, which wasnt our parent's.

14- Lovecats and some other stuff- The Cure.
First time i smoked hash, and i was lying on the sofa for hours listening to it.

15- Freak like me, Sugababes (for being happy)
How u remind me- Nickelback (for being less so)
And once again, 2 unlimited-no limits, cause the toilet sang it at me, scaring the shit outta me, when i drank too much mushie broo. Evil.
REM- Losing My religion- wasnt losing my religion at the time.
 
 
Jack Fear
19:16 / 24.06.03
gingerbop: That would be "The Girl from Ipanema," which I guess is a town in Brazil. Joao Gilberto on guitar and Portuguese vocals, his missus Astrud Gilberto on English vocals, Stan Getz playing the sax, and Antonio Carlos Jobim (who wrote the song) on piano.

Fantastic song: sparked the bossa nova craze in both the UK and the US. The single knocked the Beatles out of the #1 slot on the charts, in fact.
 
 
Foust is SO authentic
01:47 / 25.06.03
Foust's list, part 2.

7. Home For A Rest - Spirit of the West

In my early teen years, I had a newspaper delivery route. I rode my bike in the summer time with this song (and the rest of the album) blaring through the headphones. Perfect summer music.

8. Another Day In Paradise - Phil Collins

Yeah, I was a badass teenager. I was really picky with my music; I'd mock the tastes of my friends on a regular basis. The chorus of this song stayed in my head for years, though. It's still there.

9. Consequence Free - Great Big Sea

"But if for just one night
Wouldn't it be great
If the band just never ended
We could stay out late
And we would never hear last call
We wouldn't need to worry
About approval or provision
We could slip off the edge
And never worry about the fall."

I need to learn to relax, have fun. I'm still living the same ascetic Christian life I was a year ago, despite exiting the religion. This longing for abandonned fun is a big part of my life right now, but I just can't seem to pull it off.

10. Dialogue With The Devil (Why Don't We Celebrate?) - Bruce Cockburn

The ultimate brooding music. I spent several months pining after a girl that had no interest in me. Of course, as I write this, I realize I shouldn't be speaking in the past tense. What can I say? She's under my skin.

"Why don't we celebrate?
Love can make you sad
Come on, let's drive ourselves mad."
 
 
Benny the Ball
08:18 / 22.04.05
In a kind of chronoclogical order

1. Tubular Bells - Mike Oldfield - was played to me as a baby, I would drift off to sleep as soon as this was played - I have memories of creating a fairy tale similar to Orpheus in the Underworld based on this.

2. My Way - Sid Vicious - my dad had a copy of the video, and I watched it with him, just thinking that punk was fantastic and that Sid was the best (even though this was towards the end of the movement) I instantly demanded that my head be shaved, my ear pierced and that I be allowed to spit and pogo.

3. Mars - Holst - my mum loved the planet suite, and it was about the only album that she played for most of the late seventies. I didn't like all of it, but thought that Mars was amazing - that fantastic sense of building into something, doom, danger, war coming towards you.

4. Are You Experienced - Jimi Hendrix - had a live version of this song which had a five minute intro that was just Jimi playing with feed back folding it in on itself and bending it back and forth until it collapsed into the song. I would lay in bed at night, headphones on, listening to this opening again and again.

5. Enter Sandman - Metallica - this was one of the first cds that I bought myself. I no longer have it, but it sat at a point in my life where I was moving away from grunge and rock and into soul, but this stayed around longer than I thought it would.

6. Ball of Confussion - Temptations - I loved motown, all the eay listening tracks and best ofs were everywhere thanks to levi commercials, but my dad gave me his old motown albums. Marvin Gaye was great, otis I loved, but the temptations were like nothing I had heard before, and I couldn't believe that they came from the same label.

7. Whole Lotta Love - Led Zepplin - I seduced someone while listening to this album. It's probably the only time I ever will seduce someone, or describe it as seducing someone.

8. Common People - Pulp - this was big when I visited a friend in Oxford and met Mrs the Ball (TBA) for the first time.

9. Take you Higher - Sly and the Family Stone - watched the documentary about some festival (may have been woodstock, can't remember) and this lot came on. I'd always shyd away from funk as I saw it as the demise of soul in its best form, but they were so energetic and full of power that I dell in love with their sound.

10. The Drinks - Azure Ray - reminds me of my faince, makes me sad because it reminds me of her when she isn't here, makes me happy to think of her.

All turning points in my life really, little moments where I felt some part of me change.
 
 
Brigade du jour
21:21 / 22.04.05
WARNING! THIS LIST LOOKS NOWHERE NEAR AS COOL AS THE OTHER ONES!

1. Madness – Baggy Trousers (aged 5)
I was a small boy, living in an Essex pub with an up-to-date jukebox. Sadly however, I held a door open for Suggs once and he didn’t even say thank you, so I don’t like him any more. Still love the songs, though.

2. Michael Jackson - The Way You Make Me Feel (aged 12)
‘Bad’ was the first album I ever had and me and my childhood friend Will listened to it constantly. It was particularly funny at 45rpm, though. I could have gone for the title track, but this one had more of the right noises. I think it was the ‘hee-hees’ and ‘woo-hoo-hoos’ that really spoke to my imminent puberty.

3. Guns’n’Roses - Welcome To The Jungle & Prince - Batdance (aged 14)
Me and my mates used to gambol through our local country idyll by blaring out things like this and Aerosmith’s ‘Pump’ album on a portable cassette player. I’m sure the neighbours just loved us. Meanwhile, the Batman movie was, of course, the leitmotif of that golden summer of ‘89, but tangentially it sparked in me an idolatry of the little purple dude that I’ve never quite got over.

5. Queen - Bohemian Rhapsody (aged 16)
In particular, and the ‘Night At The Opera’ album in general. This was how I discovered 20 years after everybody else that pop music could be grandiose to the point of laughable absurdity. Which suited me fine.

6. Manic Street Preachers – You Love Us (aged 19)
My first ‘favourite band’ since Iron Maiden, and it happened to coincide with me savouring the whole ‘Britpop’ movement chiefly to fit in with my new friends and compete for who got the Sleeper album first. Tellingly though, I’ve still got a pain in my neck from headbanging at the Manics’ Hammersmith gig just last week.

7. Tori Amos - Professional Widow & Spice Girls - Wannabe (aged 22. Yes you read that right. 22)
Ah. Here’s where I realised that ‘genres’ and ‘scenes’ meant absolutely nothing to me and I could listen to whatever I liked and fuck what everyone else thought! Plus I hoped it would make me cool if my musical taste was as eclectic as it could possibly be. ‘Prof Wid’ (van Helden mix) represents my hopelessly brief flirtation with ‘dance’ music (mainly because the guy I ponced lifts off at uni always had Kiss 100 on his car radio and danced at red lights in a funny way). Plus, I had my finger jammed on to the pop-cultural pulse like never before so I got swept up in the whole Spice-Girls-as-Second-Coming message.

9. Talking Heads - Once In A Lifetime & Stevie Wonder – Don’t You Worry ‘Bout A Thing (aged 28)
See, now I’m going backwards! Join me on my magical journeyyyy ... I’m discovering all sorts of music, some from before I was even born. A friend of mine at work lent me a number of CDs (probably to get me to stop badgering him with questions about why he liked them so much) of artists I’d heard of but hadn’t actually sat down and listened to properly for a while, if ever. So now I insist on buying whole albums rather than compilations, and it’s HIS FAULT. Sigh.
 
 
Spaniel
11:32 / 23.01.07
I've been eyeing this thread up for literally years, because it's bloody brilliant. I must've started three or four posts but could never put anything together that I was entirely happy with. With that in mind, I am going to cheat a bit. See MARRIAGE'S post? Well, I'm gonna say that everything up to Spooky goes for me too, and that leaves me free to play around elsewhere. It would seem that as you get older ten records just ain't enough.


1980 - five years old

1. Gary Newman - Cars

Here in my car
I feel safest of all
I can lock all my doors
It's the only way to live
In cars


And with that… I was... er.... ummm…. I think disturbed is probably the best word. My first memory of hearing Cars was at one of those strange parties my absent father, my god parents and their mates used to throw. I can remember lots of dark rooms, and strange smells (probably dope and jossticks), feeling nervous and shy and out of place as I was eyed and commented upon by overly friendly or standoffish grownups (probably high), and this icy, icy music that saturated the atmosphere. Cars belonged to a world that I was, quite simply, too young to understand. It was alien and strange in the same way that the drugs and the sex and all that concerned that exclusively adult space was alien and strange. It hinted at a world that was to come, but that I was too young even to formulate questions about, and as such was as alluring as it was repulsive. This wasn't music, it was the unknowableness of adulthood looming over me, and looking back it imprinted on my young brane like you wouldn't believe.


I'm gonna go and have a think about part 2.
 
 
EvskiG
14:39 / 23.01.07
Great thread. Here are mine:

1. Sesame Street, "Sesame Street Theme"

Watched this show from the very first episode in 1969. Fundamentally influenced my attitude and consciousness in ways I can't even describe.

The song still bypasses every defense I have and gives me chills, every time.

2. The New Seekers, "Free to Be You and Me"

Exposed to this by my 70s feminist mom.

Marlo Thomas and Alan Alda do an album challenging conventional sex roles.

I laughed at Shel Silverstein's rhymes and Mel Brooks as a baby, learned it was all right to cry or play with dolls, and learned the myth of Atalanta. Again, had almost unimaginable influence on my life.

3. Pippin, "Magic to Do"

Saw a lot of Broadway shows as a kid. This one stuck with me.

Charlemagne's son goes through a post-psychedelic journey of discovery, eventually finding that true happiness -- of a sort -- comes from family. Bob Fosse choreography. Ben Vereen was enticing and sinister as the Lead Player.

Years later, I realized that my twenties paralleled Pippin's adventures almost perfectly.

4. The Beatles, "Tomorrow Never Knows"

In college a friend and I had vastly different musical tastes. Revolver was the only album we both could agree on.

After I got into psychedelia I recognized the line from Leary's translation of the Tibetan Book of the Dead and followed the instructions.

5. The Rolling Stones, "Street Fighting Man"

Went to a lot of protests in the 80s, got arrested. Thought I was going to change the world. (Haven't quite managed yet.) This song often ran through my head.

6. The Grateful Dead, "Truckin'"

Took acid for the first time at a Grateful Dead show 19 years ago. When the music felt like I was being washed with sheets of sound, this was the only song I recognized.

I'm now married to the woman I met at that show.

7. Nirvana, "Smells Like Teen Spirit"

Moved to San Francisco in the early 90s. The first time I heard this song at a club the dance floor exploded. The first time I saw the video I was in awe. Angry, raw, frustrated, and young.

8. Joy Division, "Love Will Tear Us Apart"

Girlfriend broke up with me when I returned to NYC to go to grad school. Did a lot of drugs and listened to this song over and over again.

9. Television, "Marquee Moon"

Hanging out with a bunch of debauched intellectuals at a New York punk bar called Downtown Beirut. Living in the East Village and walking by CBGBs every day.

10. Ramones, "53rd and 3rd"

The address of my first job as a lawyer. (Still the address of the subway station I use.) Sang this song almost every morning coming out of the subway.
 
 
Spaniel
19:04 / 23.01.07
Here we go then, part 2.

I had to think about this a lot. There was a bunch of music that hit me hard when I were a wee lad, probably for the reasons others have alluded to: that as children we tend to experience things in a very raw, visceral way. Much of that
stuff has stayed with me and informs my taste to this day. Tunes like Billie Jean, Late Night Picture Show (from the Rocky Horror soundtrack), and a whole slew of electro pop and New Romantic tracks osmosed into my young body and mind between the the ages of 5 and 10*. TBH, Eurythmic's Sweet Dreams, a song that I loved then and love now, was almost my number 2, but in the end I decided to skip it as, in terms of effect on a young Boboss, it's really just a continuation of the Cars experience.

Anyway

1985 - ten years old

2. Harold Harold Faltermeyer - Axel F


Doo Dee Doop Dee Doo Doo Doo
Doo Dee Doop Dee Doo Doo Doo
Doo Doo Deep Dee Doo Dee Doo Doo Doo



This one took the electronica of Cars and tied it to something else: dancing. For the last year or so I'd been getting into the hip-hop and electro (especially electro) that managed make it into the UK's top 40, but Axel F was the tipping point that made this ten-year-old declare himself a breakdancer, my specialty: robotics.
This was around the time that the school disco was starting to be seriously fun. My interest in the opposite sex was growing and I was beginning to locate myself in the social sphere. So when Axel F blasted out of the Magnum Disco speakers I was gonna give it all I had, people might be watching and I suppose dancing was one of the first ways in which I was conscious of expressing, and thereby reinforcing, my status as an individual. I wanted people to see me, basically, and dancing was one of the best ways of showing off to my peers.

But that wasn't the whole picture, there was something about this sound, something that chimed with my burdgeoning individuality, something I could identify with, but I'd have to wait before I got a clearer picture of what that something was.

Weirdly, I don't like Axel F much these days.

Part 3 coming up later.


*And that's just the music that I liked or found interesting. I got to listen to plenty of Quo, Meat Loaf and Air Supply over that period, too.
 
 
Twice
20:26 / 23.01.07
This is irresistible.

Glass by The Sandpipers. It comes from those pre-aware days that send me nose first into a swamp of pure childhood nostalgia. Off of the Guantanamera album, which hits a whole bunch of triggers. Inch Worm also makes me shiver, probably because my first theatre experience was seeing Tommy Steele in Hans Christian Andersen in about 1974.

The Wombling Song. I was given a ‘record player’; one of those ones which you pile up records on the central spike and they play in turn. I started with 4 singles: three Wombles and “The Combine Harvester” by The Wurzels. This might begin to explain my Mike Batt period, later.

Brahms’ 4th Symphony. I think Dad was trying to educate me. I played it smooth.

Love Makes You Crazy, by Mike Batt, from Zero Zero. Total obsession, and I was totally fucked up, aged 14.

Six Blade Knife, Dire Straits:

Id like to be free of it now - I dont want it no more
Id like to be free of it now - you know I dont want it no more


My brother really liked them, and I think their first album stands the test of time.

Gigantic, Pixies. A friend’s stepmother was involved with the photography for Surfer Rosa, and passed us a copy. We did a dance to it in ’86 in drama. Thus began a worshipful relationship with the band, groupiesque. Giant personally signed Here Comes Your Man poster is still on my wall. I even fancied Charles.

Fools Gold, Stone Roses. This is all I can drag up from the 90’s, and only just. Song of its time, blah.

Gretchen am Spinnrade, Shubert. I have a love of Lieder, started by a friend who sent me a CD with this on. Tried to link it via Wikipedia, but it wouldn't work.

De Profundis, Arvo Part. It was actually this piece of music that brought me here. I was searching for info about it and found a link to this thread. I’d bought a compo of ecclesiastic music with it on, and one of my favourite memories ever is of lying in my house on the floor next to my father, off our faces, with whisky clutched to our chests. De Profundis should be played rather louder than you think seemly. Ignore the neighbours. Let the voices make your whisky wobble.

Blackbird, Beatles. This will be at my funeral, but I don’t want to jump the gun.
 
 
grant
14:03 / 24.01.07
I so love this thread.
 
 
EvskiG
17:09 / 24.01.07
Just realized I left out any of the Schoolhouse Rock songs.

Dang.
 
 
Spaniel
12:57 / 30.01.07
As I said earlier, everything that goes for MARRIAGE goes for me (for those of you that don't understand the link, we're twins). My love of hip hop crystalized around Salt and Pepper and a short while later Public Enemy, and led me to buy to House Hits 88, a cheapo House compilation album, where I encountered tunes like Can You Party? (still love it), Beat Dis (by Bomb the Bass) and Let's Get Brutal (still love it). But while all that stuff excited me, it took another tune to firm boyish enthusiasm up into something more.


1988 - thirteeen years old

3. Humanoid - Stakker Humanoid

Woof woof woof
Humanoid
Intruder alert

Squelchysquelchysquelchysquelch


Barking dog samples: check; robot voices: check; laser gun blasts: check; squelchy amorphous acid: check; frenetic beats: check; whistle blasts: check.

I think it's fair to say that this tune had it all. It encapsulated an entire sound. It was like downloading House music into your brain. But I think the thing that really did it for me was the pace. This tune was pure excitement, a dance floor stormer that managed, through some weird beat led magyyycks to transform my bedroom into a rave, or, as they were so quaintly known, an acid house party. For me, Humanoid connected the dots between the music and the sub-culture that was forming across the country, in that it made me understand how bloody millions of other teenagers could sculpt their life around one thing - dancing - and, as a thirteen year old boy, I wanted to be part of that.
For the first time in my life I found myself beginning to identify with a kind of music and with it's sub-culture. I wanted to be a raver, I wanted to wear kickers or wallabees and a hooded top and baggies, and I wanted to wear CND medallions and lennon sunglasses and grow my hair into a page boy cut. I wanted to be cool like all those kids I was starting to see on the streets of Tunbridge Wells and Eastbourne and London. I wanted to have strangers come up to me and say "rave on".
 
 
Kit-Cat Club
17:44 / 30.01.07
Boboss, a guy I was at school with rapped on the B side of Humanoid. He once performed his rap to the sixth form. He was a big guy and very excited, and the room was quite small. Very funny.
 
 
Kit-Cat Club
17:44 / 30.01.07
Ooops, that should be "Eggs" = haven't logged out of KKC's account.
 
 
Spaniel
18:40 / 30.01.07
That sounds fucking hilarious Kit Kat. I can't remember the b-side for the life of me, though.
 
 
Spaniel
18:40 / 30.01.07
I mean Eggs.
 
 
Spaniel
12:33 / 07.02.07
1990 was a brilliant year, everything felt fresh and new and fizzed with the kind of chemical excitement that's only possible when drugs and sex collide with adolescent hormones. We spent most of that blazing summer camping in the fields behind our house, cultivating our raver identities. We wore the clothes and danced around campfires and got skanked by wannabe dealers and smoked dope and took acid and got drunk and felt as if we knew the secrets of the universe (our poor, poor parents).
We were obsessed by the music: the thudding beats, the squelching electronics and computer generated bleeps, the vocal samples that bound it all together, the constant innovation and restlessness. This was something new and we were riding the wave, and those that didn't know what was going on either had their heads buried in the sand or were just irredeemably uncool and stupid.

It was with some antipathy, then, that I approached anything other than dance music. I mean, guitars were for old people. Get *the fuck* with it!

Christ, I can still feel the fire of those sentiments.

But despite being a bit of a musical fascist, a gateway into a wider world of music had started to open with the Beatles. A relationship which could be justified on the basis that their later stuff was psychedelic. Subsequently came the Happy Mondays (the last great punk band, imho), Primal Scream and the Stone Roses and the rest of the Madchester music scene mob.

I took some persuading that the Roses were cool, my first reaction to them was summed up by my friend Tag, who, after two minutes listening declared that they were "fucking rock music" and ejected the tape. Over the following months, however, we heard Fool's Gold - a dance track if ever there was one - and began to realise that the Manchester sound went hand in hand with the rave scene and was therefore legitmate listening material.

I learned to love the Roses and the Mondays (who I still rate hugely) - they were the first of many favourite bands, but somehow they didn't manage to make the grade this time.


1990 - Fifteen years old

4. Talking Heads - Once in a Lifetime


And you may find yourself living in a shotgun shack
And you may find yourself in another part of the world
And you may find yourself behind the wheel of a large automobile
And you may find yourself in a beautiful house, with a beautiful wife
And you may ask yourself "Well...How did I get here?"



I suppose I've put history above taste up to now. I've listed tunes that were turning points, sure, but I don't happen to like Humanoid or Axel F that much as a 31 year old man. With this tune I'm readdressing the balance towards music which I adored then and have continued to adore right up to this day. And anyway, it's hardly a compromise, Talking Heads steered me towards much of music that will make up the subsequent parts of this list. Not only that but they were and remain embedded in the soundtrack of my life, and it all began with this tune.

I'm not sure whether Once in a Lifetime was the first Talking Heads track I ever paid any real attention to - my good pal Fraely Gimbert had been playing them to me since I was about 13 - and I'd certainly registered their (then) strange sound before giving OiaL a good listen. I knew they made me feel odd, like I was listening to music intended for The Other. It was music from the outside, if that makes any sense. It wasn't a question of whether I liked or disliked it - this was another instance where those terms didn't quite apply - it just didn't… er… fit. But that did work to make it interesting.

Looking back, then, Once in a Lifetime was where their sound first started to make sense to me. A year or so before I'd been blown away by KC Flightt's hip hop tune Planet E which sampled and made liberal use of OiaL's chorus, so perhaps it's no surprise that the next time I heard OiaL I was predisposed to be friendly. Add to that its distinctly dancey beat, twinkly almost ambient background, and spoken word lyrics and you had a tune that I could relate to, something that was made with conventional instruments by a conventional band but that I could own. And own it I did, along with the rest of its parent album Remain in Light, which, while it took me a little while to get into, was my first foray into a world of music that wasn't somehow legitimised by the scene I was into. And, you know, I think that made me feel a little bit bigger and a little bit more grown up.

Oh, and it helped that a lot of my peers simply couldn't relate to the existential lyrics and twitching front man. I still got to feel special and more important than all those dicks I went to school with.
 
 
imaginary mice
06:36 / 23.02.07
1. The Smiths – How Soon Is Now

My life in a nutshell. Instead of reading the following 2000 words you could just google this song and read the lyrics (if you don't know them already).

I used to go out on my own, dance a little, stand in a corner feeling lonely and miserable, leave on my own, then listen to this song at home in the middle of the night, crying my eyes out and wanting to die.

In fact, due to my "criminally vulgar" shyness, I've been going out on my own for the last ten years. But I no longer listen to this song on a weekly basis.

2. Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds – Mercy Seat

This has been my favourite song since the age of 15. Over the years I've used and abused it in so many ways – school exams, my driving test, university exams, job interviews, professional exams… I can remember listening to it whilst cycling to school on the day of a French test, which I wasn't the least bit prepared for and feeling very nervous about. Of course exams are rarely fatal and not quite the same as death row – and I would like to apologise to Nick Cave for using this masterpiece for such trivial matters – but it comes in very handy when you're feeling anxious and need some courage and determination.

Ta, Nick. Thanks to you I've passed all my exams and am now a qualified accountant.

3. Guns n' Roses – Paradise City

My parents rarely listened to music and I never really got into it as a child. I was very shy and an outsider at school. My classmates teased me because I didn't know what 'rap' was. There was one guy in my class who was very popular. He listened to the charts every week, wrote them down and knew them inside out and I thought that if I did the same, my classmates would like and respect me just as much. I was 13 at the time. I started watching MTV on a daily basis and never missed the European Chart Show on Saturday nights. I didn't know anything about music and didn't even have an opinion, I just wanted to be popular at school. The #1 song was my favourite song, the #2 position was my second-favourite track of the week and so on, simple as that. (Ironically, the KLF were very big at the time and they are now one of my favourite bands.)

I did this for a year until 29 May 1992, when I first heard Paradise City. Yep, I even remember the date. 30 seconds in and I already knew that this would be my favourite band from now on, even though at the time I didn't know who the song was by. I found out the following day and instantly became a massive Guns n'Roses fan (officially their biggest fan at my school). I was totally obsessed about them for a year and I listened to nothing else. I knew all the lyrics, read every article I could obtain as well as several books, soaked up every available fact including such important information as the day they signed their record contract and 15 years later I still remember the birthdays of all the original members (22 Jan, 5 Feb, 6 Feb, 8 Apr and 23 Jul if you must know). I was pretty mad at the time but on the plus side it gave me a lot of confidence. I stopped trying to fit in and from then on developed my own taste in music without paying attention to what everyone else was into.

4. Pulp – Common People

June 1995. The first week of the school holidays. It's 11am in the morning but I only just got up and I'm still in my pyjamas, having breakfast. Chocolate spread and MTV – the perfect combination.

I've been severely depressed for the last two years, crying myself to sleep every night and contemplating suicide. On New Year's Eve in 1994 I came up with a simple resolution: Not to kill myself in 1995. Since the end of my Guns n'Roses phase I've been listening to rock, metal and alternative music: Metallica, Faith No More, Rage Against The Machine, Beastie Boys, Nick Cave. Mostly American bands. I despise the charts and pop music. Blur? Suede? No way. There are some decent British bands like Oasis and Radiohead. But I'm still planning to go to the US after I've finished school. I've got to get out of Germany. It's killing me.

They're something missing in my life. I'm into music but there isn't a band I feel particularly passionate about. I haven't fallen in love for ages. I need a new favourite band.

A new video on MTV. Just like Paradise City I know within seconds that this is it (I was right - 12 years on and Pulp are still my favourite band). The video is colourful, garish; the song's poppy, witty and very British. Unlike anything I've ever heard before. Unlike anything I've ever been into before. I buy the single the following day. On the back of the CD case some useful advice from Jarvis: "Stay alive in '95". After three years of listening to dark and angry rock music, I am finally embracing pop music again. Blur and Suede are great, actually. Elastica, Supergrass, Dodgy and the Boo Radleys are the perfect soundtrack for the summer and cheer me up immensely. The next few months are brilliant as I start going to indie clubs and gigs regularly. I no longer feel suicidal.

"Mum, I no longer want to move to Los Angeles, I think I'd prefer Sheffield."

"…"

September 1997. Common People on the radio. The song that got me into British music. The song that will always remind me of desperately, desperately wanting to move to Britain. I'm in London, working as an au pair girl. I've made it!

January 2007. I'm in a pet shop, buying a cat flap. The song is playing on the radio. As always, it takes me back to 1995. Now, not only have I lived in Britain for almost 10 years, but I've also been to university, I've got a professional qualification, a good job, I've brought my horse over from Germany and I'm now getting a cat flap for the house I've just bought. I'm well and truly settled.

I'm sure that Pulp saved my life. If I'd gone to America instead, my visa would have expired after a year and I would have had to return to a country I hated and that has always made me feel alienated and depressed. I'm sure I would have killed myself.

5. Björk – Hyperballad

The summer of '95. Going clubbing for the first time. Saturday nights at the 'Zillo'. Britpop. Dancing to 'Alright' by Supergrass followed by 'Common People'. Staying until 4.30am and taking the first train home at 4.45am (I wish British trains would run this early!). Walking to my friend's place where I had left my bike and then cycling home and listening to Björk on my walkman.

It's about 6am on a Sunday morning. But it's July and it's already very warm. The sun is shining and I seem to be the only person alive. Bliss.

6. Pulp – Tomorrow never lies

Monday morning. November 1997. Walking across London Fields in Hackney towards Woolworths to buy Help The Aged, Pulp's new single. I've just brought the children to school. The father had said I could have the day off but I'd rather do all the things I normally do, pretend nothing happened. I will go to college later and in the evening meet my friends in Camden. If I sat at home with nothing to do I would just think about the previous night. Being pressed to the ground, unable to move. Screaming. His hand on my mouth trying to silence me. I bite. His tongue in my mouth. I bite. And I can't stop screaming even though he threatens to kill me if I don't shut up. Thinking I'd rather be killed than raped. Help arrives. Two men walk me home, then call the police. I'm interviewed until the early hours of the morning.

I buy the single and walk back home. College doesn't start until 11am, so I've got plenty of time to listen to my favourite band. I've already heard Help the Aged on the radio several times, so I skip straight to the b-side, 'Tomorrow Never Lies':

"The night time blazes with all your nightmares come to life. But you can face the danger knowing that your cause is right. And leave them all below you, bleeding, as you rise into the night."

I go out that night. And the following night. And the following night. Without fear.

7. Inspiral Carpets – Saturn 5

This song reminds me of going clubbing in London, 1997 – 2001. Quite possibly the best song to dance to, ever. The music scene was a bit rubbish at the time – Travis, Stereophonics, Gomez…* So I worked my way backwards and got into "baggy" (mondayscharliesrosesinspirals - sorry, I mean Happy Mondays, Charlatans, Stone Roses, Inspiral Carpets.) There were even a couple of baggy club nights back then – 'It' at the Garage on Thursdays and 'Weekender' on Saturdays.

*Some people claim that "Be here now" by Oasis signified the end of Brit Pop. The album was released on Thursday, 21 August 1997 - the day I arrived in the UK. Coincidence? I think not.

8. Sigur Rós - Starálfur

May (or June?) 2002. The best break-up sex I've ever had. The best sex I've ever had.

It was such a struggle to get my ex-boyfriend to sleep with me after he had dumped me - until I found out that he loved Sigur Rós and hadn't listened to them for ages because he'd lost the album. So I went out and bought it and managed to lure him back to my place. I remember lying in his arms listening to this song. Best night of my life. He apologised later. Silly man.

9. PJ Harvey – Who will love me now?

September 2001. I've just moved to Southampton after four years in London. I've never been a 'big city' girl and never intended to stay in London forever. But in the end I have to move because I have messed up completely, lost all my friends and hurt a lot of people. I need to start again from scratch.

I've met a guy. He's very sweet and seems to have quite a crush on me. We start dating. He plays me this song. It exactly reflects my feelings, the story of my life. I'm a monster. I have done terrible things.

I have often wondered why he picked this song. Was his choice based on what I had told him about London, to show me that he understood, that I wasn't alone and unlovable?

Or was it nothing personal, did he just play the song because he's a big fan of PJ Harvey?

August 2003. Sunday afternoon. It's two years since I first met him, one and a half years since the break-up. I'm on my way to a pub, listening to an old mix tape that I had grabbed randomly, without checking the tracklist. I'm just a few minutes away from the pub when this song comes on.

Of course I wasn't able to leave it all behind in London, of course I had to go through the same thing again – losing control, hurting people, losing all my friends. I'm the same monster I've always been. No-one will love me now.

The pub is horrid. Noisy, unwelcoming. Big screens showing the football. He didn't want to meet at a familiar place. Not the Dorchester or Goblets. Too much old baggage.

I decide to wait outside. I wait for half an hour, then call him. He tells me he's not coming, that I should give it another three months. This meeting had been so important to me, I was so desperate to apologise to him, explain things, put things right. Can I wait another three months? Do I have a choice?

Three months later he denies he ever wanted to meet up with me. He had only agreed to it to get rid of me, to stop me from pestering him. He had lied to me out of desperation.

I wonder how he feels about this song now.

10. Mew – Comforting Sounds

The first time I hear this song I'm stuck in traffic somewhere near Guildford on the way home from Dorking. It's a Friday afternoon and I've left the client early because there is a black tie work-do later in the evening. This song is one of the most beautiful pieces of music ever written and it makes me burst into tears, I'm so overwhelmed. It's the last song on the album and I sit in silence for several minutes afterwards, not knowing what to listen to next. Putting on another CD almost seems blasphemous. I'm so moved but there is no-one I can share my feelings with. It's not something I could mention at the work-do tonight. What would my colleagues say if I told them a song had made me cry because it was so beautiful. They wouldn't understand. They would think I was completely mad. Get a grip. It's just a song.

And so I have to keep it to myself.

It's strange how I initially got into music because I thought it would make me popular at school, only to become so passionate about it that it's now a barrier more than anything else, as I find it hard to relate to people who aren't interested in music. I'm all alone. But with a great soundtrack.
 
 
Spaniel
10:20 / 23.02.07
Powerful stuff, and much better than anything I've written.
 
 
Tom Paine's Bones
15:12 / 23.02.07
Christ, getting this down from 30 was hard. I almost feel strangely disloyal to certain bands.

1. Pink Floyd- Bike

As a painfully geeky teenager, school wasn't particularly easy for me. What kept me going through much of it was counting the days till my local roleplaying group was on again and I could see my friends. I absolutely idolised two of the older guys in the group and they were heavy prog fans. I could never quite see the appeal of Marillion or Yes, but Floyd managed to grab me in a way they didn't. Bike particularly stands out for me because it was also the first song I ever dropped acid to.

2. Half Man Half Biscuit- God Gave Us Life

One of several bands introduced to me by the Young Quakers. (Including the Pixies who just missed out on making this list). So it has memories of the other main thing I looked forward to when everything else seemed like shit. HMHB were like nothing I'd ever heard. Hilarious without being a joke band, this started me on a love of HMHB which has stayed with me to this day.

3. The Velvet Underground- Heroin

The first band I 'discovered' myself rather than being pointed towards them by other people. I seem to remember being drawn towards them simply by how cool I thought they looked on the cover. My tape was quickly circulated round all my friends at sixth form and they became 'our' band. Of course, now I know that the Velvet Underground are pretty seminal. But at the time they felt like a special secret that only we knew about. I still have memories of us sitting in the basement of the local cafe playing them on full blast on a battered stereo.

4. Crass- Do They Owe Us a Living?

As an angry sixth former, just discovering anarchist politics for the first time, Crass blew me away. Not even just the music. I spent many an hour sitting in my bedroom pouring over their lyric sheet and it was the whole package. The music, the politics, the fold out posters, were all just something that felt so important to me at the time. I did it all. Painted the Crass symbol on the back of my leather jacket. Cut my hair off and died the remainder black. Started wearing black jeans with Crass patches on them all the time. Even when I moved away from Crass' politics (and specifically their pacifism, having joined the Class War supporters group as a very angry young man indeed) that still felt like a reaction to Crass rather than a total dissociation from them.

5. Dick Gaughan- 50 Years From Now

The one downside to the Crass era was that it lead me into a certain type of pretentious punk snobbery. If it wasn't anarchopunk, it was obviously meaningless. So suddenly realising that the old folkie 'hippies' of the 70's (which was the kind of stuff my mother liked for fuck's sake) whom I'd always dismissed had been writing political polemics just as radical and angry as the anarchopunks was an entirely necessary shock to my system. This was a particular standout track for me. Acoustic, slow, but still filled with possibly the most cold political rage I've ever heard.

6. New Model Army- Smalltown England

I've mentioned this before, but New Model Army have always been an incredibly personal band for me. Their songs always secretly feel like they've been written just for me as if the band knew my background as well as I did. And they even seem to grow as I do. Their lyrics have always seemed to match where I am at precisely the right time.

7. Carter the Unstoppable Sex Machine- After the Watershed

Being a Carter fan was mostly just incredible fun. Whereas previous bands had appealed to me when I was angry or when I was upset, Carter are associated with some of the happiest times in my life. I'd left school behind me and I just wanted to be able to jump around and shout along with songs I loved. And Carter stepped up to fill that role admirably. They're also the band that I've attended the most gigs of.

8. Blaggers ITA- Stress

The Anti Fascist Action years. This brings back memories of hanging round nervously in pubs, the occasional streetbrawl with the fash and, most of all, the feeling of being a "good guy" and being able to deal with a world in black and white for once, without all the normal confusions and complexities of modern life. I still miss it sometimes.

9. The Long Decline- I'm a Jew

"I don't believe in God. I'm certainly not a Zionist. But I'm a Jew, fuck you.". I got this single when at University. It was probably the biggest single factor in my rediscovering of my Jewish identity. Giving me, as it did, a starting point for an exploration of Jewishness that wasn't bound up in religion or Israel.

10. Art Brut- Bad Weekend

A younger friend of mine first got me into Art Brut. Really simply, after a lazy period of only listening to bands I already knew, Art Brut reminded me quite how much I actually like discovering new music and that the visceral thrill of being a music fan is no different than it was when I was a teenager.
 
 
iconoplast
23:38 / 23.02.07
I just want to say how much I love this thread.
 
  

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