Some songs/albums are so deeply identified with a time and place that they can still trigger memories in us. Happy, I’d hope, or touched with nostaglia. Here’s some of mine, and why:
Good Vibrations: First single I bought with my own money. I can still hear the crash of the autochange as it dropped the disc down the spindle, the crackle of the run-in groove. Sitting on the carpet, watching the record spin, and hearing beauty in music without knowing what it was, or how it worked.
Holland: When my first wife and I were “courting”, we’d play this Beach Boys album, again on a crappy portable record player, on Saturday mornings, the sunlight sifting through the yellow curtains. Heaven.
Shawn Phillips: Contribution. Piling through the open window of Jim Cooke’s place at Spon End (don’t look for it; it’s not there any more), skinning up, watching little brass angels circle under tinkling bells. The crackle of seeds and stems as Shawn’s voice lifted us right through the fucking roof.
Terry Riley: Rainbow In Curved Air. The perfect acid soundtrack. Berkswell Woods, the lake, an English summer, our heads in the clouds.
It’s A Beautiful Day. A cottage in Wales, » Continue Reading.