You Don’t Know HELEN SHAPIRO. My parents bought me a record player when I was 7 years old in 1961 and this was the first single I bought.
I Want To Tell You THE BEATLES. I bought Revolver when it first came out in 1966. I was 12. I listened to it in the “lounge” in the house in Tunbridge Wells. Neither of my parents were home when I first listened to it. I lay on the floor and listened to it intently. This song came on – possibly the least interesting song on the album – a plane flew overhead and I remember thinking that I would remember this moment for the rest of my life. And I have.
Blackberry Way THE MOVE. 1969. My Mum told me that she didn't realise that the party I went to when I was 15 would include girls. Her disapproval was severe. I had enjoyed doing the hokey cokey to this though. Mr Naïve remained repressed.
Never Comes The Day THE MOODY BLUES. Andy I played table tennis in his house in Wadhurst – we were about 14 – the song was on repeat because the arm of the record player was up. 1969. We had this song on for about two hours.
Sunshine Of Your Love CREAM. 1969. Spoilt middle class 15 year olds in their lovely grammar school uniform all banging desks in time with Ginger Baker and missing break!
May I KEVIN AYERS & THE WHOLE WORLD. I became friendly with Raymond Boutell in the Sixth Form. In 1971 I mentioned to him that I had bought “Shooting At The Moon” by Kevin Ayers. We arranged that, while my parents were away (but my sister was at home) that he and his mates would come to the house in Tunbridge Wells to listen to the album. They turned up. They were all groovy. I was not. I played the album. I offered them coffee. When they left, one of them had written on a newspaper that was lying around “Is Our Host Straight?” I guess I was and I still am. On the other hand, I bet most of them are now wealthy bankers.
Tupelo Honey VAN MORRISON. I was waiting with much anticipation for the new Van Morrison album in 1971. Alan Black played this on his radio show. It was the first song from the album I had heard. It was stunning. More beauty, layered and layered. Then the background voices (at 3:34). I laughed out loud in my bedroom in Tunbridge Wells. It was magnificent.
The Gift THE VELVET UNDERGROUND. I played for the First XV rugby at school in 1971/72. One day, waiting to be picked up for a match on a Saturday morning in Sevenoaks, we were met by the PE teacher, Mr Knott, who told us that two of our team had been killed in a car crash the previous evening. The match was cancelled. My parents had arranged to go to Southgate to see my Dad’s sisters in the afternoon. Originally I wasn’t going to join them but I phoned my friend Peter Langley, who lived in Southgate, and asked if I could see him and spend the afternoon with him. He was turning a bit groovy and when I saw him; he played me the second Velvet Underground album. It was like nothing I had ever heard before. I never told him about the tragedy that had occurred the previous evening.
Lorca TIM BUCKLEY. although released in 1969, I never got this album until 1972. My sister bought it for me for Christmas. I lay in my bed with the headphones on and sang along to it. I wasn’t very tuneful. Finally, my mother came in and asked if I would like to join them for Christmas dinner
Jamaica Say You Will JACKSON BROWNE. I bought this album before I went to Holloway in early 1972. The reason I bought this is because, in Rolling Stone, Bud Scoppa had written a review of the album where he spent four columns enthusing about this one track. He finished his review in the fifth column by stating that every other track on the album was as good as this one. I bought the album. It’s all brilliant. A lifelong obsession with reading reviews and buying albums was born.
Ballad In Plain D BOB DYLAN. In my first term at Holloway in 1972, I became friendly with Pete King who was a devoted Bob Dylan fan. I was ready to be converted. At Christmas, he loaned me his cassettes of the first six albums. I loved this track. These days, it’s slated as being mean and one dimensional but never mind. Pete’s cassettes were 45 minutes long on each side. This song finished after 7:30. When I got back to College I talked to him about how much I loved this track. He played me the verse that starts at where the cassette had ended. “My friends from the prison ask unto me how good does it feel to be free. I answer them most mysteriously, “Are birds free from the chains of the skyway” ” Brilliant. Or so it seemed in 1973.
Avalanche LEONARD COHEN. Back in Justine's room after a party in Athlone waiting in vain for an avalanche to happen. 1974. Mr Naïve #1
Comfort You VAN MORRISON. Sitting on Joy's bed in her room in Founders. 1975. Who was comforting whom? Mr Naïve #2.
Banks Of The Nile FOTHERINGAY. I drove Paul Robinson from Coventry to Worcester in 1977 and at one point this song was playing on the car stereo and we emerged into a huge vista of the Malverns – the sun was setting – it was beautiful and the music is remarkable; we just listened in silence.
Dweller On The Threshold VAN MORRISON – I must have seen Van Morrison play live about fifty times but I went to the best concerts with John Shield in 1979/1980 at the Dominion, Tottenham Court Road. These were possibly the best concerts I have ever been to (although Van in Oxford in 1993 ran it close). Van was stunning but I never really liked this song so John and I would always go to the toilet during this song, having previously quaffed several pints beforehand.
Black River GREEN ON RED – I was on cricket tour in Glossop in Derbyshire in 1982 surrounded by Sun and Mail readers who loved Elton John. After a few beers we went into a curry house and this song was playing. I couldn’t process why. It transpired that they were playing Radio 1 and it was the Andy Kershaw programme.
Never Mind NANCI GRIFFITH. 1988. Virginia's record player with this album always on the turntable, probably never played. I swapped a vinyl for a pencil sharpener. Never mind. Mr Naïve #3a
Can’t Believe Your Lyin’ NEIL YOUNG. 1988. Staring at those rectangles on my wallpaper in my bedroom in Conyers. I had to believe her lying and manipulation because it was manifesting itself in front of my eyes. Mr Naïve #3b
The 51st (Highland) Division's Farewell To Sicily DICK GAUGHAN. Driving home from Canterbury, having watched another glorious Kent victory (my memory may be playing tricks here), with my Dad. 1993. Driving straight into the sun on the M20 approaching the M25 listening to this remarkable piece of music. My Dad approved, even though it wasn't Beethoven.
Fun THE BLUE AEROPLANES. Finally some fun. This time with the love of my life. 1994.
No Time To Cry IRIS DeMENT – I got an IT job in Farnham in 1996. Driving home one day, I played this song. I sang along. I burst into tears.
I Was In The House When The House Burned Down WARREN ZEVON. Driving from Sussex to Orpington or Bromley as my parents died in 2000, playing the doom laden Warren Zevon.
Something About You MICHELE STODART - Roo and I went on holiday to Scotland in 2016. One day I went for a walk around the loch near the house we rented. I had this song on the headphones. I cried.
Thinking Of A Place THE WAR ON DRUGS – 2017. The song that I must have played three hundred times in the year. That’s no exaggeration. It’s a stunning piece of music.
I Want To Tell You THE BEATLES. I bought Revolver when it first came out in 1966. I was 12. I listened to it in the “lounge” in the house in Tunbridge Wells. Neither of my parents were home when I first listened to it. I lay on the floor and listened to it intently. This song came on – possibly the least interesting song on the album – a plane flew overhead and I remember thinking that I would remember this moment for the rest of my life. And I have.
Blackberry Way THE MOVE. 1969. My Mum told me that she didn't realise that the party I went to when I was 15 would include girls. Her disapproval was severe. I had enjoyed doing the hokey cokey to this though. Mr Naïve remained repressed.
Never Comes The Day THE MOODY BLUES. Andy I played table tennis in his house in Wadhurst – we were about 14 – the song was on repeat because the arm of the record player was up. 1969. We had this song on for about two hours.
Sunshine Of Your Love CREAM. 1969. Spoilt middle class 15 year olds in their lovely grammar school uniform all banging desks in time with Ginger Baker and missing break!
May I KEVIN AYERS & THE WHOLE WORLD. I became friendly with Raymond Boutell in the Sixth Form. In 1971 I mentioned to him that I had bought “Shooting At The Moon” by Kevin Ayers. We arranged that, while my parents were away (but my sister was at home) that he and his mates would come to the house in Tunbridge Wells to listen to the album. They turned up. They were all groovy. I was not. I played the album. I offered them coffee. When they left, one of them had written on a newspaper that was lying around “Is Our Host Straight?” I guess I was and I still am. On the other hand, I bet most of them are now wealthy bankers.
Tupelo Honey VAN MORRISON. I was waiting with much anticipation for the new Van Morrison album in 1971. Alan Black played this on his radio show. It was the first song from the album I had heard. It was stunning. More beauty, layered and layered. Then the background voices (at 3:34). I laughed out loud in my bedroom in Tunbridge Wells. It was magnificent.
The Gift THE VELVET UNDERGROUND. I played for the First XV rugby at school in 1971/72. One day, waiting to be picked up for a match on a Saturday morning in Sevenoaks, we were met by the PE teacher, Mr Knott, who told us that two of our team had been killed in a car crash the previous evening. The match was cancelled. My parents had arranged to go to Southgate to see my Dad’s sisters in the afternoon. Originally I wasn’t going to join them but I phoned my friend Peter Langley, who lived in Southgate, and asked if I could see him and spend the afternoon with him. He was turning a bit groovy and when I saw him; he played me the second Velvet Underground album. It was like nothing I had ever heard before. I never told him about the tragedy that had occurred the previous evening.
Lorca TIM BUCKLEY. although released in 1969, I never got this album until 1972. My sister bought it for me for Christmas. I lay in my bed with the headphones on and sang along to it. I wasn’t very tuneful. Finally, my mother came in and asked if I would like to join them for Christmas dinner
Jamaica Say You Will JACKSON BROWNE. I bought this album before I went to Holloway in early 1972. The reason I bought this is because, in Rolling Stone, Bud Scoppa had written a review of the album where he spent four columns enthusing about this one track. He finished his review in the fifth column by stating that every other track on the album was as good as this one. I bought the album. It’s all brilliant. A lifelong obsession with reading reviews and buying albums was born.
Ballad In Plain D BOB DYLAN. In my first term at Holloway in 1972, I became friendly with Pete King who was a devoted Bob Dylan fan. I was ready to be converted. At Christmas, he loaned me his cassettes of the first six albums. I loved this track. These days, it’s slated as being mean and one dimensional but never mind. Pete’s cassettes were 45 minutes long on each side. This song finished after 7:30. When I got back to College I talked to him about how much I loved this track. He played me the verse that starts at where the cassette had ended. “My friends from the prison ask unto me how good does it feel to be free. I answer them most mysteriously, “Are birds free from the chains of the skyway” ” Brilliant. Or so it seemed in 1973.
Avalanche LEONARD COHEN. Back in Justine's room after a party in Athlone waiting in vain for an avalanche to happen. 1974. Mr Naïve #1
Comfort You VAN MORRISON. Sitting on Joy's bed in her room in Founders. 1975. Who was comforting whom? Mr Naïve #2.
Banks Of The Nile FOTHERINGAY. I drove Paul Robinson from Coventry to Worcester in 1977 and at one point this song was playing on the car stereo and we emerged into a huge vista of the Malverns – the sun was setting – it was beautiful and the music is remarkable; we just listened in silence.
Dweller On The Threshold VAN MORRISON – I must have seen Van Morrison play live about fifty times but I went to the best concerts with John Shield in 1979/1980 at the Dominion, Tottenham Court Road. These were possibly the best concerts I have ever been to (although Van in Oxford in 1993 ran it close). Van was stunning but I never really liked this song so John and I would always go to the toilet during this song, having previously quaffed several pints beforehand.
Black River GREEN ON RED – I was on cricket tour in Glossop in Derbyshire in 1982 surrounded by Sun and Mail readers who loved Elton John. After a few beers we went into a curry house and this song was playing. I couldn’t process why. It transpired that they were playing Radio 1 and it was the Andy Kershaw programme.
Never Mind NANCI GRIFFITH. 1988. Virginia's record player with this album always on the turntable, probably never played. I swapped a vinyl for a pencil sharpener. Never mind. Mr Naïve #3a
Can’t Believe Your Lyin’ NEIL YOUNG. 1988. Staring at those rectangles on my wallpaper in my bedroom in Conyers. I had to believe her lying and manipulation because it was manifesting itself in front of my eyes. Mr Naïve #3b
The 51st (Highland) Division's Farewell To Sicily DICK GAUGHAN. Driving home from Canterbury, having watched another glorious Kent victory (my memory may be playing tricks here), with my Dad. 1993. Driving straight into the sun on the M20 approaching the M25 listening to this remarkable piece of music. My Dad approved, even though it wasn't Beethoven.
Fun THE BLUE AEROPLANES. Finally some fun. This time with the love of my life. 1994.
No Time To Cry IRIS DeMENT – I got an IT job in Farnham in 1996. Driving home one day, I played this song. I sang along. I burst into tears.
I Was In The House When The House Burned Down WARREN ZEVON. Driving from Sussex to Orpington or Bromley as my parents died in 2000, playing the doom laden Warren Zevon.
Something About You MICHELE STODART - Roo and I went on holiday to Scotland in 2016. One day I went for a walk around the loch near the house we rented. I had this song on the headphones. I cried.
Thinking Of A Place THE WAR ON DRUGS – 2017. The song that I must have played three hundred times in the year. That’s no exaggeration. It’s a stunning piece of music.
