Inspired by (a) the book by Nick Hornby, but mainly by (b) my friend Barney, I have decided to do my own 31 songs. What follows are the 31 most significant songs of my life so far. (For the sake of reducing my embarrassment, I would like to point out that they're not necessarily my favourite songs). I've tried to be as honest as possible and choose songs that are representative of my 'musical journey' (which has embarrassingly taken me pretty much everywhere from Gregorian chant to europop via reggae). I've taken a vaguely chronological approach just because it was easier to identify songs that have been significant in my life that way. Where my encountering of the song has coincided with the year it was released, I have put that in brackets.
The only other thing to add by way of introduction is that I, like Barney, have made it a rule that I can only have 1 song per artist (rats!). This is because otherwise the list would be full of Ben Folds, Bic Runga and the Indigo Girls and I would be tempted to leave out some of the cheesier options. So here goes...
(2)
Tears for Fears: Everybody wants to rule the world (1985)
It must have been a very wet summer in 1985 because this song
brings back memories of sitting round the table in our soggy tent
wearing shiny PVC macs and wellies. We were camping somewhere
in Sussex (I think), in the grounds of a pub that owned a huge
furry dog (that, for some reason, I wasn't afraid of. My dog phobia
must have developed later). Every evening we went into the pub
to get warm and my brother and I would put 'Everybody Wants to
Rule the World' on the jukebox over and over again. We must have
heard it hundreds of times that week and it will always remind
me of those happy times when John and I had 'adventures' and played
in mud and got cold and wet and then got warm and dry and felt
tired and blissful at the end of each day.
(3)
Michael Jackson: Smooth criminal (1988)
Somewhere in the mid 80s came the momentous day when I got my
own tape player, which opened up a whole new world of exciting
listening possibilities. Prior to that I had had to buy 7"
singles and play them on my Dad's record player, but now I could
listen to music IN MY OWN ROOM. Every Sunday night, after my boiled
egg and soldiers, I would install myself in my room, with a blank
tape and my finger hovering over the 'pause' button, and record
the charts. This was a ritual that was to go on for a number of
years until I'd built up an impressive collection of tapes, all
meticulously organised and labelled. My brother would sometimes
be jealous of the songs that I had recorded (and yet too lazy
to sit for hours listening to the charts and recording them himself),
so we devised a rather crude but effective way of doing tape to
tape recording (which was the musical equivalent of yoghurt pot
phones on the technology stakes). We would line the inbuilt microphone
of his tape player up with the mono speaker of my tape player,
synchronise button pressing and then attempt to maintain absolute
silence during the recording. Inevitably, sometimes we wouldn't
be able to remain quiet (especially as John used to do funny dances
to try and make me laugh) and I have chosen 'Smooth Criminal'
as my third song because it was during the recording of this that
John did a huge belch and then we both collapsed in a fit of giggles.
I still can't listen to the song without laughing when I get to
that point.
(4)
Hue and Cry: Looking for Linda (1989)
I've no idea who Linda was, but they seemed really keen to find
her. Maybe it's because she 'spent 35 pounds on one pack of ciggies'.
(Silly girl - had she not heard of duty free?). Anyway, I didn't
really know what the song was about, but it made me feel optimistic
and sad in equal measure. I was at that age when I was already
starting to wonder if I'd ever get what I wanted in life or whether
I'd always be chasing after something that was just out of reach,
so the idea of an ongoing search struck a chord. I may not have
been looking for Linda, but I was looking for something.
(5)
Extreme: Get the funk out (1990)
I can't really remember why I bought 'Pornograffiti', but I suspect
it had something to do with wanting to be rebellious, but not
in an extreme way as yet (how ironic). I also seemed to have a
(probably Smash Hits-fuelled) fixation with the guitarist - the
implausibly named Nuno Bettencourt. 'More Than Words' was doing
the rounds and those of my peers who had already managed to pair
up were huddling in dark corners of the disco and miming the words
to each other. Whilst I very much admired the guitar playing on
that track, I preferred the slightly more confrontational songs
on the album, such as 'Get the Funk Out'. The chunky guitars,
deliciously over the top lead breaks, full on bass and cheeky
lyrics were enough to get most, if not all, of my early teenage
angst out of my system.
(6)
Seal and Adamski: Killer (1990)
This song will forever conjure up the distinctive aura of roller-discos
for me. Dry ice, dodgy lighting rigs and the smell of sweaty feet,
rubber and chips. I still think this is a great song - Seal's
haunting voice over Adamski's electro-bass and miscellaneous beeping
noises are a winning combination in my book.
(7)
Ravel: Pavanne for un enfant defunte (Pavane for a Dead Princess)
This is one of the most poignant pieces of music I've ever heard
and it is simply beautiful. I prefer the original piano version
composed in 1899, although the version that Ravel orchestrated
later is also lovely. It always makes me think of a painting of
Ophelia by Arthur Hughes depicting her sitting by the side of
the lake scattering herbs in the water shortly before she drowned.
This piece of music seems to encapsulate so perfectly the mourning
of the tragic loss of youth and beauty.
(8)
Simon and Garfunkel: I am a rock
I had a tape of 'The Sound of Silence' which I had purloined from
one or other of my parents and I listened to it constantly on
my Walkman with orange muffers on the headphones. I knew the words
to every song (which is a very rare feat from me) and I even chose
to do an interpretative piece of writing for an English assignment
based around 'The Sound of Silence'. 'I am a rock' is probably
my favourite S&G song because, as I became increasingly isolated
from my peers, I could identify so well with the lyrics:
I have my books
And my poetry to protect me
I am shielded in my armour
Hiding in my room
Safe within my womb
I touch no-one and no-one touches me
I am a rock
I am an island
And the rock feels no pain
And an island never cries
(9)
The Shirelles: Will You Still Love Me tomorrow?
My grandparents were delighted to announce when we went round
to their house one day that they'd bought some 'modern music'
for us 'youngsters' and then lovingly produced 'Superhits of the
60's and 70's'. I resisted pointing out that I was only alive
for 3 and a bit years of the 70s, so it can hardly be dubbed 'my
era', but I listened to the CD anyway, and grew to love it. There
were all sorts of quality tracks on it like 'Simon Says' and 'Yummy,
Yummy, Yummy by the 1910 Fruitgum Company; 'Pictures of Matchstick
Men' by the Quo and 'Catch the Wind' by Donovan, but my favourite
was this for the simple reason that it wasn't as bad as all the
others. So I have included it here because it was the best song
on the best CD that my grandparents owned (and far surpassed listening
to 'Panpipes Play Andrew Lloyd Webber').
(10)
The Smashing Pumpkins: Today (1993)
I mainly like this song for its dynamic contrasts, rocking drums
and gritty guitar. Also, as someone who finds it very easy to
reminisce endlessly about the past or get obsessed about the future,
there is something very appealing about today being 'the greatest
day I've ever known'.
(11)
Lisa Loeb - Stay (I missed you) (1994)
This is one of those songs that is inextricably linked with a
particular time and place - in this case a minibus full of Rangers
on the way to a winter weekend at Ridge End cottage in the Peak
District. Rangers is the next step up from Girl Guides, but our
Ranger unit had very little to do with uniforms and badges and
a lot to do with alcohol, smoking and self-discovery (with a bit
of firefly hockey and giant knitting thrown in). 8.30pm until
10pm every Thursday was the only hour and a half of the whole
week that I felt I belonged and I could be myself. This song brings
back happy memories of that time.
(12)
Youssou N'Dour and Neneh Cherry: 7 Seconds (1994)
This is another song that
transports me back to the past and captures a swirl of academia,
alcohol, existential angst, obsession, and the occasional exciting
night out clubbing in Manchester. I can't really explain what
it is about the song that I liked, but I do own a lot of world
music and I think that, for me, the lyrics aren't usually the
most important part of a song, so it doesn't really matter if
they're not in English. It's odd for someone who loves words as
much as I do to say that, but maybe it's because I find music
such an intensely emotional experience that powerful words are
just a bit too much sometimes.
(13)
The Carpenters: Rainy Days and Mondays
I was pretty miserable for my first term at university in London.
People drank Earl Grey tea and had stupid names like Travis and
Rupert. I was really homesick (although I knew I'd be just as
miserable in Manchester) and used to go to Euston station so that
I could pick up a copy of the Manchester Evening News and watch
the trains heading north. I had a tape of Carpenters songs which
I used to listen to endlessly and I always used to play this song
when I felt down and wanted to wallow in it.
What I've got they used to call the blues
Nothing is really wrong
Feeling like I don't belong
Hanging around, nothing to do but frown
Rainy days and Mondays always get me down
(14)
Portishead: Sour Times (1995)
Whenever I hear this song now I can almost smell the stale smoke
and other communal odours of my university halls. I listened to
the album 'Dummy' loads in my first year, mainly because it was
the only album that my friend Chris and I could agree on. I loved
it so much that I almost bought a stylophone from Camden Market.
(15)
Astrud Gilberto: The Girl from Ipanema
I really like latin music
and find the rhythmic bossa nova sound exciting and sublime. This
song makes me think of the bliss of hot nights on foreign beaches
with beautiful people tinged with the sadness of admiring someone
from afar and knowing that they don't notice you.
(16)
The Sundays: Monochrome (1997)
In my third year of uni I lived in the cellar of a church in Camden
in a shared room. Not only that, but I actually lived on a wooden
shelf that spanned the room and required a ladder to get to it.
When I was on my shelf my head was about 2 inches from the ceiling
and I was often woken up on a Sunday morning by the sound of heels
treading the boards above me and 'Tell Out My Soul' blasting out
on the organ. Whilst there were certain aspects of the accommodation
that took a little getting used to (like remembering to close
the windows at night to prevent all the blokes pouring out of
the Camden Palace from peeing through them), one of the joys of
this set-up was sharing CDs with my room mate and thus discovering
the Sundays. 'Static and Silence' swiftly became one of my favourite
albums ever with it's beautiful melodies and delicate instrumentation.
This song is a gentle and tender portrayal of two sisters sharing
a magical experience of staying up all night to watch the moon
landings on TV. It reminds me of all those special times with
friends and families that can't ever be repeated and bring us
closer together
(17)
Ben Folds Five: Fair (1997)
This isn't actually my favourite Ben Folds Five song (In fact
it's impossible to single one out, but 'Evaporated', 'Brick',
'Army' and 'Best Imitation of Myself' and are all contenders);
however it's the first BFF song I liked which is why it's included
here. At the end of university, I went to France with two friends
and one of them had brought 'Whatever and Ever Amen' to play in
the car. At first I wasn't sure what to make of the piano-driven
pop rock, but it wasn't long before we were all singing along
to 'Fair' and I was converted. I have since bought everything
Ben Folds has ever done and he has become my favourite musical
artist ever. I saw BFF at Manchester university in the late 90s
and I'm sure that Ben winked at me! I went to see him on a solo
tour at the Lowry in Salford more recently and I was bowled over
by what a talented musician he is. The best!
(18)
Rialto: Summer's Over (1998)
I've always been interested in the derelict - disused railway
lines, abandoned factories, seaside amusements with cracked signs
and peeling paint. There's something eerie but also strangely
appealing about being in a place that one used to BE somewhere
and has now been forgotten. It's a reminder of a lost era - a
piece of history that can never be re-lived, just remembered.
I love wandering around and wondering where all the people that
used to fill the place have gone. How have their lives moved on?
What are they doing now? What would they think and feel if they
came back here?
This song coincided with my own 'end of an era' experience as
I wandered around my university in Bloomsbury and wondered 'Where
do I go from here?'.
(19)
System F: Out of the Blue (1999)
For some reason, this was always the track that I would have playing
at ear-splitting volume whenever I drove up at Christian conferences
in a naughty mood. I like the way it builds and the air-raid siren
effects. And the fact that it really pisses off people who don't
like House.
(20)
Claire Bramwell: The Father's Song
I find it very hard to like Christian music because most of it
is so bad. I even think that Matt Redman's version of this song
is pretty bad (and he wrote it, for goodness sake). However, my
friend Claire has such a beautiful voice that she has made this
song her own. Jonathan's piano accompaniment is sublime too, and
it always makes me smile that there's a hint of the Poirot theme
tune at one point. A beautiful song about a beautiful God.
(21)
Evanescence: Bring me to life (2003)
I know that Evanescence firmly denied being Christians (and there
certainly didn't seem to be any rainbow guitar straps on the video),
but this song does have some fairly spiritual words. It was around
at a confusing time in my life when I was forced to face my priorities.
I was struggling with trying to summon up faith in God and that
his ways were best and there was a lot of conflict going on inside
me. So I guess this song was a bit like a desperate prayer that
was going on in the background when I didn't have the strength
to pray myself:
Wake me up inside,
Wake me up inside,
Call my name and save me from the dark.
Bid my blood to run,
Before I come undone,
Save me from the nothing I've become.
(22)
Norah Jones: Come away with me (2002)
Yes, there had to be an
'our song' in there somewhere and this is it. That's probably
all I'm going to say about this one.
(23)
Gareth Davies-Jones: Your Word
I heard Gareth play this
song at a gig at church and it was one of those songs that felt
like it was written just for me. It was definitely a 'you'd better
take notice because God is speaking to you' moment for me. I was
trying to blot it out and just enjoy the melody and the acoustic
guitar, but in the end I was unable to ignore the words:
There are days I wonder who I'm talking for
Did I really say these things I don't believe?
I don't believe in lies, yet I am getting lots of practise
Maybe I was born to deceive
Cos when it's your word against
mine
You know it's your word every time
Cos when it's your word against mine
You know it's your word every time
These are precious days that
we are living through
How can we waste a single moment spent away from you?
I'd like to think that I am standing on the rock that never moves
But today I think I might have climbed down
Cos when it's your way against
mine
You know it's your way every time
Cos when it's your way against mine
You know it's your way every time
So much time spent building
up the faces that we wear
How do we ever know which one we really are?
Father forgive me - I am poor
and I am weak
You know me better than I know myself
And I am stilled by your complete and utter love for me
Let me serve you, let me do my part
For when it's your love against
mine
You know it's your love every time
Cos when it's your word
And it's your way
And when it's your love
Cos when it's your word against
mine
You know it's your word every time
Cos when it's your word against mine
You know it's your word every time
(24)
Maroon 5: This love (2004)
This is a majorly embarrassing one, but it was significant at
the time, so I guess I have to put it in if I'm playing by the
rules! It was around when I went through the most painful break
up of my life and some of the lyrics resonated somewhat:
This love has taken its toll on me
I said goodbye too many times before
And her heart is breaking in front of me
I have no choice cause I won't say goodbye anymore
(25)
Pink: Don't let me
get me (2002)
I like Pink's energy and also that she writes fairly intelligent
things on her blog. This song sums up really well what it feels
like to not want to be yourself, which is one of the most frustrating
and crippling things to feel. I have quite often experienced what
I call 'emotional itchiness' - not knowing what to do with myself
and not wanting to be in my own skin; wanting to swap places with
someone else just for a day so that I get a bit of a break. Sometimes
after I've put this song on really loudly and jumped around madly
like a frog on speed, some of the itchiness has gone away.
(26)
Basement Jaxx: Do your thing (2005)
This song reminds me of
watching Barney pack for skiing while I sat on her window sill
with a glass of wine in one hand and a tab in the other. It's
impossible to be miserable when this song is on. I should listen
to it more.
(27)
KT Tunstall: Suddenly I see (2005)
This song seemed to be on the radio all the time, especially in
the Traidcraft warehouse, so for a number of weeks I would be
treated to it every time I went to a meeting or went to the rest
room for a brew. It will probably always remind me of the picking
and packing line at Traidcraft, and more generally of friends
at work and good times we've had.
(28)
Ben Folds: Jesusland (2005)
I may be slightly bending the rules here by including another
song by Ben Folds, but this time he is minus the 'Five' so I feel
somewhat justified. Also, since I have 120 songs by Ben Folds
/ BFF (all of which are fantastic), it's almost impossible to
choose just one.
I love this song because it is a searing indictment of consumer
Christianity and hypocricy. (Incidentally, this song also reminds
me of being hopelessly lost in a car somewhere vaguely near Bristol
with my boss, which was fun.) One of the things I hate most is
empty religion masquerading as authentic Biblical Christianity.
I find it so sad when individuals and institutions preach a 'health
and wealth' message instead of the true message of the gospel,
which is to accept God's grace and live lives of humble service
to him and others. I often wonder how Jesus would respond if he
walked through the streets of our 'christian' countries and saw
what we were doing and saying in his name. Clearly this is something
Ben has thought about too:
Town to town
Broadcast to each house
They drop your name
But no one knows your face
Billboards quoting things you never said
You hang your head and pray
For Jesusland
Maybe we should pray for Jesusland too.
(29)
Bob Schneider: A long way to get (2006)
I often find it helpful
to think of life as a journey and I sometimes like to reflect
on how far I've come. It's not always easy to get things in perspective
- sometimes I feel as though I've hardly made any progress, and
other times I feel like I've come miles. A recurring theme in
my life seems to be that I find it very hard to settle anywhere
and feel like I belong. I actually think that this is because
I won't properly feel at home until I get to heaven. This song
is an acknowledgement that there may still be a long way to go
until I finally get home, but I also take it as a gentle reminder
that my life isn't directionless and I am in fact heading towards
home, even if it seems like only a speck on the horizon.
I've got a mountain to climb
before I get over this hill
I've got the world to unwind before I ever sit still
I've got a hard row to hoe before my seed is sown
I've got a long way to get before I get back home
(30)
Bic Runga: Say after me (2005)
Apparently Bic is really huge in her native New Zealand, but no
one here seems to have heard of her. I went to see her live a
couple of times within the space of a couple of months last year
(don't know why she likes Newcastle so much) and she was FAB!
She has a really unusual stance which kind of makes her look like
she's being operated from above by strings, but she writes consistently
brilliant songs and I find her really intriguing. Maybe next time
she's in Newcastle I'll invite her round for a cup of tea.
I love this song for so many reasons. I first heard it when I
saw Bic live the first time and then I got the album 'Birds'.
The French horn is one of my favourite instruments and it is used
hauntingly and beautifully on this track. Sometimes this song
makes me feel intensely sad so I have to be careful about when
I listen to it, but I think it's good that there are songs out
there that can reflect how I feel and make me feel slightly less
alone.
(31)
Indigo Girls: Get out the map
I first heard this song whilst riding round the Lake District
in Bongo Girl's car and it is firmly associated with that holiday
with Barney which was one of the happiest times in my life so
far. It will always remind me of singing till late in the evening;
visiting aquariums and riding on steam trains; collecting insects
and playing catch in the lake; doing pub quizzes with 'guess the
breed of dog' rounds and playing Taboo. I also went to see the
Indigo Girls last week with Barney, Bongo and Laura and it was
brilliant!
