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About half-way through lockdown – about 38 years ago – I said to the Welshes that I’d do a Desert Island Discs thing for them too. They eventually sent me the 8 songs that they couldn’t live without. Ross sent me a database and accompanying decision-tree; Paul sent me a new list every day for a week; Jim got Laura to do his for him…all standard fare.

Dance and Queen

Overall, you picked 93 songs from 85 artists. Oasis, Paolo Nutini and Dolly Parton were the most popular, all of whom were picked by three of you.

There are 60-odd years between the earliest and latest songs. The oldest is “Save The Last Dance For Me” by The Drifters (chosen by Jim) which – although released in August 1960 – was written in 1958. The most recent is last year’s Sun Queen, offered up by Daniel; in that one, Gerry Cinnamon actually sings about “music from the 50s…”

So, there are no songs from this decade. The 1960s has 11, the 1970s have 13, the 1980s 17, the 1990s 23, noughties 22, and the 2010s had 7.

Why doesn’t Barry just move there if he loves it so much?

The songs’ origins are interesting. There’s a tie for first place between the USA and dear old England, both claiming 32 tracks; Scotland gets the bronze with 8 entries. Barry’s choices were all from England (if you include Fleetwood Mac in that); Maureen’s were the most diverse with five different countries represented.

Speaking of diversity, and recognising the moment we are living through, 15 (18%) of the artists selected were from BAME backgrounds. Kirsty alone accounted for more than a quarter of them – she is either the coolest (untrue) or we all need a bit more funk and soul in our lives.

There’s been a murder

71 of the artists are still alive. Of the 14 who’ve gone, only one has done so during the COVID19 era – Kenny Rogers, who died on Claire’s birthday this year. 😦

Two of the others – Biggie Smalls and John Lennon – were shot and killed. I’m ashamed to say that I chose the only song on this list that was written by an actual murderer (Phil Spector), although it wouldn’t surprise me if either Chris Rea or Jimmy Nail is subsequently the subject of a 10-part Netflix true-crime series. 

Gimme Sun, Gold and Green

There were four songs about the sun and seven about the weather overall (Nicola’s lovely choice ‘Nuvole Bianche’ means White Clouds in Italian).

The most common word in all the song titles was ‘Gimme’, mainly because Kate chose her favourite Abba song. Apologies to Paul, but “Green’ and ‘Gold’ were pretty popular too, to add to that ‘Bianche’ above…

There’s a Spotify list on its way, with most of these tunes on it.

The individual lists

Below, I’ve set out everyone’s lists in the order received…and made a few self-indulgent and snidey comments along the way.

Ross

Ross was the first to respond. Having seen his workings (three pages of tight, handwritten foolscap), he gets top marks for effort.

And there’s some lovely tracks there. His choice of Don’t Falter by Mint Royale deserves a medal too – it’s the only one whose singer has kissed me (Lauren Laverne, on the cheek: some bar on Belmont St, Aberdeen, 1996).

By a weird coincidence, I’m writing this while the BBC is showing old performances from Glastonbury, including – right now – The Killers from 2005. Kirsty and I were at that one, bawling along with Mr Brightside alongside another 100,000 piss-stained, muddy idiots. The song itself came out in 2004 and has basically been in the UK charts ever since: it’s had the longest run in the Official Singles Chart Top 100; as of late June 2020, it’s been there for a total of 232 weeks. (Note that the second spot in that table goes to Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol, chosen by Maureen).

Ross chose two records from 1994. The Beastie Boys ‘Sabotage’ is one of my all-time favourites too. Using a heavily distorted bass is still rare, and combined with scratching and yelled vocals – it’s a brilliant mash-up of metal and hip-hop. A cracking video as well, the inspiration for the opening credits section of Trainspotting, according to Danny Boyle.

His other 1994 choice ‘Voodoo People’ by The Prodigy samples ‘Very Ape’ by Nirvana. Speaking of Nirvana, their drummer Dave Grohl plays on another of Ross’s songs: No One Knows. This, I think, was one of the first songs I downloaded – illegally – via Napster, which my work stupidly allowed me to have on my PC. I sometimes think Arthur Andersen could have survived bankruptcy had I not spent whole weeks downloading shit that year.

Laura

As a card-carrying old person, I didn’t know that The View covered Up The Junction. I love the Squeeze original, which is a cracking, sad little story. That line: “I never thought it would happen/with me and the girl from Clapham” is just perfect.

From the same era as Squeeze is the somewhat less jaunty Love Will Tear Us Apart from Joy Division, written & recorded just 4 months before lead singer Ian Curtis killed himself. I’m sure I read once that he was trying to make himself sound like Frank Sinatra. Imagine that cover version…

While we’re on the subject of cover versions, anyone heard Billy Connolly’s totally faithful version of ‘Coat Of Many Colours’?

The Backstreet Boys’ “I Want It That Way” was written by a guy called Max Martin. He has made more US #1 singles than anyone other than Lennon & McCartney. Those include absolute bangers like Shake It Off and Last Friday Night…

Another amazing songwriter appears on Laura’s list. Bert Berns not only wrote Cry To Me by Solomon Burke (covered in 1965 by The Rolling Stones), he also knocked out “Twist and Shout“, “Piece of My Heart“, “Here Comes the Night“, and “Everybody Needs Somebody to Love“.

I now love that Skinny Genes song, but here’s a question: who these days calls their kid Eliza?

Barry

Speaking of the Dean kids, the Courteeners song ‘Not Nineteen Forever’ is taken from their St Jude record. Both Barry and Daniel chose this one.

Another of his tracks is about growing up too. I always loved ‘Rockin Chair’ and that line ”I’m older than I’d wish to be”. It’s almost the archetypal Oasis song, and the cocky bastards only put it on a B-side.

They weren’t the only swaggering Mancunians, or even the best. The Stone Roses were fully entitled to act like God back in the day. Here’s an action pic of Barry dancing to ‘I Am The Resurrection’ from Hampden Park in 2017.

There’s three other solid-gold classics on Barry’s list. ‘Here Comes The Sun’ is the most listened to Beatles song on Spotify, possibly because it’s the happiest they ever got.  Maybe that’s because John Lennon didn’t contribute to the song at all, as he was recovering from a car crash in the Scottish Highlands.

I remember as a kid picking through the records that dad had in a living room cabinet and being intrigued by Rumours by Fleetwood Mac. Not unreasonably, for many years I then thought that Stevie Nicks was a bloke and Lyndsay Buckingham was a woman. Anyway, it turns out that Lyndsay was pissed off that his girlfriend Stevie split up with him, so he wrote Go Your Own Way. It’s still a brilliant piece, from that stuttery drum start (ripping off The Stones’ Street Fighting Man) to its mad, pounding finish. If you want more proof that the Great British Public is a dick – the single only reached No. 38 in the charts.

The famous music journalist Robert Christgau (who wrote for Billboard, Rolling Stone, and taught at New York University), called The Kinks’ ‘Waterloo Sunset’ “the most beautiful song in the English language”. He’s probably right.

Nicola

Of all the lists, Nicola’s selection was the least familiar to me: I’d never heard four of the songs, and I actively avoid Bon Jovi ballads as a guiding principle.

I didn’t know this Paolo Nutini song before tonight, but he sounds like Marvin Gaye, and you can’t give higher praise than that.  And if you didn’t know that Ray LaMontagne looked like a coffee shop barista, you’d swear blind he was one of Otis Redding or Al Green’s pals. ‘You Are The Best Thing’ is a great song.

I recognised Leon Bridges’ ‘River’ from that programme Big Little Lies (the soundtrack is maybe better than the TV show.)

McFly are named after Michael J Fox’s character in Back To The Future of course. In the film, he is seen performing The Power Of Love, one of Daniel’s choices.

Nicola and I were the only ones to choose songs by Italians, and her’s – Ludovico Einaudi’s “Nuvole Bianche” – is one of the loveliest things I’ve ever heard. His music features prominently in the This Is England 90 mini-series, as does the song Fool’s Gold, one of my choices.

Country Girl has loads of special memories for me. It was released in summer 2006 and Kirsty and I had it on our wedding playlist; I remember Nicola and Paul doing a little video of Lily at Blair Drummond Safari Park with this playing behind it; and I remember dancing to this with Barry & Laura at Trisha’s house after a Stone Roses gig at Glasgow Green. It’s also featured in the film Wild Rose, about the girl from Glasgow who wants to be a country star.

(Incidentally, I mistakenly typed Country Git there, which I’m sure would be a tremendous song.)

Paul

I can’t think why Paul chose this Tina Turner song?

I’d forgotten that it’s actually a cover version; the original was recorded by Bonnie Tyler in 1988. I remember (weirdly) seeing Bonnie singing before the Stuttgart vs Celtic game in 2003, and she had a hoops scarf on.  Anyway, the folk who wrote the song – Mike Chapman & Nicky Chin – had an amazing list of other hits to their name, incl Mud’s: “Tiger Feet“, Toni Basil’s “Mickey” and Smokey’s “Living Next Door to Alice”

As with most great Noel Gallagher songs, he basically nicked Oasis’s “Live Forever” – this time from The Rolling Stones “Shine a Light“.

Autumn is my favourite Paolo Nutini song too, and a beautiful hymn to grandfathers. There’s a lovely line about handsome smiles and handsome shoes there.

There are very few things in the world that I loathe more than the music of Queen. But I do at least get this piece, one of the last songs that Freddie Mercury recorded with the band while he was very ill in mid 1990. He died the following year, just 6 weeks after the song was released as a single. It’s one of a number of recent songs to have incorporated or copied elements of Pachelbel’s Canon – you’ll recognise the same descending chord pattern in The Farm’s “Altogether Now“, “Whatever” by Oasis, and “C U When You Get There” by Coolio (who also turns up at Celtic games these days).

Anyway, just like Freddie’s work with The Show Must Go On, Hypnotize was also the last song Biggie recorded before he died (or was killed) a week later. I didn’t know this song but I might start using the phrase: “Poppa twist cabbage off ” when Lily gets on my tits.

The next three songs have a couple of things in common: first, that I first heard all of them (and Eminem’s ‘Rain Man’, 50 Cent’s ‘Candy Shop’ and loads of others) in Paul’s car in the early 2000s; and second, all were written or co-written by Andre Young – Dr Dre to his pals. All three are dynamite.

I remember one Friday night after work in London (probably after hearing Paul playing 50 Cent the weekend before) saying to my fellow junior management consultants – mainly posh white men and women: “You’ll find me In Da Club, bottle full of bub” to the very blankest of blank stares…

And here’s a thing: there’s a Scottish angle to Dre’s The Next Episode. The main sample in the track comes from “The Edge“, a track by the actor David McCallum, born in Maryhill in 1933.

Daniel

We’ve already mentioned Daniel’s first song: the Courteeners’ ‘Not Nineteen Forever’, also chosen by Barry. But did you know that it – spookily – only reached #19 in the charts?

A third Paolo Nutini work here: Last Request. Does Dan actually like the song, or just that it appears at the end of Series 2 of Gavin & Stacey?

Personally I’m a bit sniffy about Cast, whose song Live The Dream appears on Dan’s list. It’s largely because their main man John Power used to be in an infinitely better band: The La’s. Their (only) album is 35 minutes long, and is flawless.

One of my favourite bits of random telly features The La’s (you’ll see John Power on the right hand side) being interviewed by a hapless German girl: cue confused Scousers.  Kirsty will confirm that I watch this pretty much every day.

BTW: what do YOU think about Beebra?

Another Back To The Future reference, with Huey Lewis and the News’ ‘The Power of Love’, which got to #9 in the UK Charts in 1985. This was the first of three singles in the British top 10 called “The Power of Love” that year’; the other two were by Frankie Goes To Hollywood, and by Jennifer Rush. Those two though made it to #1.

And another appearance on the list from The View, with ‘The Don’. I might not pass on their advice about how to endure piano lessons to Lily just yet…

There’s a nice link between one of Dan’s songs, and Barry’s, and then Jim’s. Gerry Cinnamon’s Sun Queen is a play on The Beatles’ Sun King (from Abbey Road, a few songs after Here Comes The Sun). And Lennon nicked a huge chunk of that from Albatross from Peter Green & Fleetwood (see Jim’s list below).

Kate

A suitably eclectic, multi-coloured selection from Kate, although I am appalled that my niece – and I don’t care that she’s mere days away from her 18^th birthday – has chosen a song with the word flaccid in it.

A second Dolly Parton song, with 9 to 5. At exactly the same time Sheena Easton (fae Bellshill) released a song with same name; to avoid a clash, she changed its name to Morning Train. Tune!

The first time I became aware of Bennie And The Jets properly was when I saw some reruns of The Muppet Show in the late 1990s. Here he is singing it with Kermit and the lads, wearing clobber that Kate would probably wear now.

Total cracker, this one from Shania Twain, even if she did nick the riff from Spirit In The Sky. Again though, if you want further evidence of the Great British Public’s poor taste, they put this steaming turd to Number 1 instead. Twats.

The first time Jim dropped me off at a gig was in September 1992, when he gave Scott and me a lift to King Tut’s to see a band called The Frank & Walters. Before they came on, the support act did a few songs. They were a spotty, morose lot called Radiohead who had only just released one record at that point (I bought that single, the Drill EP, the next day for 99p: I’ve discovered tonight that folk are now selling it for €300 a time. Yasss!!).  Anyway, they played a new song that night called Creep which I remember very clearly because of that crunching noise the guitar makes just before the chorus.

Two of you chose George Michael songs; Laura with Faith, and Kate with Club Tropicana. George Michael was always amazing but what is jarring is how prodigiously talented he was. He wrote Club Tropicana AND Careless Whisper when he was 18 years old for Christ’s sake. You’ve got a year to measure up Kate…

Claire

A list almost as bonkers as her daughter’s.

As I write this, Glastonbury reruns are still on the telly, and here comes Pulp doing Common People. I’ve only realised, after 25 years, that this must be the only song ever to mention woodchip wallpaper. Also, they surely nicked the riff from this bit of late 70s Italian pop?

I’d literally never heard that Lee Ann Womack song until three minutes ago. She sang it at the poet and Civil Rights activist Maya Angelou’s funeral in 2014. If it was good enough for her, it deserves its spot here.

My mate Michael was a big fan of Erasure when I knew him at Uni, and I was (predictably) unimpressed. He called me a massive music snob (me!), but his point was that if their songs had been performed by long-haired idiots with guitars, I’d be fine with them. Inevitably, Wheatus proved him right about 5 years later.

Every week for the past 6 years, the comedian Limmy has tweeted the following message:

He’s probably taking the piss that you basically can’t escape this song. This exercise proves him right as well.

I don’t know what I was expecting when I looked into Little Big Town’s Stay All Night; but the video looks like Steps have discovered Jack Daniels, Marlboros and made some bad decisions.

The final Dolly Parton song is the brilliant Here You Come Again. Unusually for Dolly, this wasn’t one she had written herself but it’s from the amazing Barry Mann and Cynthia Weill. They also wrote “You’ve Lost That Lovin Feeling”, and this little gem that Maureen subjected us to when we were kids: “Make Your Own Kind of Music” by Mama Cass Elliot. Both brilliant slabs of pop.

Kirsty

Claire and Kirsty both chose “Band Of Gold” by Freda Payne, written by another genius song-writing team: Holland/Dozier/Holland. On this recording, the guitar is played by Ray Parker Jnr, who later sang the theme tune to Ghostbusters (and who was later sued by Dan’s pal Huey Lewis).

What’s odd though is that Band Of Gold and one of Kirsty’s other choices – Rick James’ “Superfreak” – were the only Motown songs out of 93.

Despite being half-Irish, Kirsty chose the only truly Scottish songs from among you – one from the east, and one from the west. Sunshine On Leith obviously; a beautiful simple bit of music in its own right but heavy with memories for us now, not least the brilliant singalong at our wedding.

And then there’s Dignity by Deacon Blue, written by a Dundonian but which somehow just feels Glaswegian. This was actually in the Scottish charts when Laura was born; I remember reading about the band in the paper that summer when she was yelling the house down. The older ones among you will remember that I was made to sing this at parties; more recently, Scott Renton has bullied me into playing at gigs.

And there’s another Dr Dre angle in Kirsty’s choices. Her track  “No Diggity” by Blackstreet features the bold Andre doing a guest rap…and inspiring this amazing question on Who Wants To Be A Millionaire:

David

I’ve written already about the records that dad had in that living room cabinet. The real gem among those was a battered copy of Let It Bleed, the Rolling Stones LP from 1969 (in fact, its cover was the subject of one of the family quiz questions a couple of weeks back because it featured a cake).

Anyway, the first track on that is Gimme Shelter. Those sketchy, scratchy little riffs that kick the song off, the little stabs of piano, huge drums, Merry Clayton’s supporting vocals, and this whole sense of barely controlled chaos – it’s amazed me for nearly 40 years now. Here they are still doing it really well, just a few years ago, to a huge crowd of Cubans.

The only band that mean as much to me as the Stones are Teenage Fanclub.  I could have chosen any number of their songs but today I’ve gone for Norman 3 – not only is it a gorgeously sloppy little pop song, but I love the sheer ballsiness of releasing a song that repeats “I’m In Love With You” 22 times.

One of my enduring memories of early lockdown was of finishing off my Italian Higher, and being advised to listen to some Italian pop music for revision. So, I discovered this piece: “L’Appuntamento”. The lyrics, about a woman waiting on her lover returning, are exquisite:

“Amore, fai presto, io non resisto. Se tu non arrivi, non esisto, non esisto, non esisto…” – “Love, be quick, I can’t stand waiting/ and if you don’t arrive…I don’t exist, I don’t exist, I don’t exist…”

Like Barry, I picked a Stone Roses tune, although I opted for Fools Gold 9.53.  This was given to me by Alec Whyte – God rest him – when I started getting into proper music. (Incidentally, at Alec’s funeral, they played another Roses song, Your Star Will Shine).

The whole package is incredible: the cover art (above) is amazing; the video of them walking across volcanic rock was terrific; the B-side is better than most band’s a-sides.

It’s the sound of a band at their absolute peak: a nailed-down groove with a thumping, shuddering bass; bongos; spidery, sinewy guitar lines and wah-wah; lyrics that quote Nancy Sinatra. And though hugely derivative – nicking from James Brown, Bobby Byrd, Can, Shaft and Young MC – it still sounds fresh 31 years later. It’s nearly 10 minutes long, but about 8 minutes in I start worrying that it’s finishing soon.

It’s my favourite bit of music recorded in my lifetime.

Jim

The only other LP I remember from Jim’s pile is this one, from 1968:

That, and the singles they released in the couple of years afterwards, are still the best Blues records made by skinny white folk, better than anything the Stones or Clapton or Led Zeppelin did.  Those singles include Oh Well (Pt 1) and The Green Manalishi, on Jim’s list – as well as Albatross (mentioned above) and Need Your Love So Bad . Peter Green was the true genius in that band; I hope he’s well, wherever he is.

In another throwback to an earlier list, the folk that wrote The Air That I Breathe by The Hollies successfully sued Radiohead because the chord progression and melody in “Creep” were similar. Later, Radiohead themselves took legal action against Lana Del Rey for allegedly plagiarising “Creep” for her song “Get Free” …

Pretty sure that I bought Jim a couple of his chosen songs. I definitely got that Crocodile Shoes album (on tape) for him at Christmas when we lived in Alderman Rd; even then, I was perplexed by that line: “My crocodile shoes are crying too”. Shoes, blubbing?

I think I got that Saw Doctors song for him too, again on tape – and it getting played a lot down at the Wharf. I wonder if dad’s liking for it is some distant genetic thing – a predisposition for all things from Galway?

His final song – Save The Last Dance For Me – is the oldest of all the 93. I’ve got to shoehorn some sort of Beatles reference into this somewhere so here’s that song done by the Fab Four when they’re all pissed up.

Maureen

Right, last but not least….

Chasing Cars was mentioned earlier; apparently, it’s the most-played song of the 21st century on UK radio. For the rest of you, I imagine it’s more interesting that it’s playing when Gavin & Stacey get married.

I didn’t know that Kenny Rogers (RIP) did Green Green Grass Of Home but this takes a dump all over that Tom Jones version.

As kids, certainly for Claire and me, we heard a lot of Carpenters songs. So, instead of them, here’s everyone’s favourite Japanese power pop band Shonen Knife doing Top Of The World.

There’s something really appropriate – in this weird unsettling time – that these two songs are final ones:

What A Wonderful World

Always Look On The Bright Side Of Life

Keep the chin up.

A few weeks backs, when lockdown started, I asked the extended Hudson mob in Leith to give me their Desert Island Discs – the 8 songs that right now they couldn’t live without, including their absolute favourite. I said then that I’d do something with them and then largely forgot about it until Susie mentioned it the other night.

Overall, you picked 65 songs from 61 artists. I’ll send you all a CD and/or Spotify list of the 9 absolute favourites plus the two most popular songs. Below, I’ve added some blurb as well as links to some of the songs you chose.

Amanda wins hippest Hudson!

There are 57 years between your earliest and latest songs. The oldest song is “Be My Baby” by The Ronettes from July 1963. It’s the only song on this list that was written by an actual murderer (Phil Spector), although I have long-standing suspicions about both Paul Simon and Chris Rea.

The latest was released, incredibly, just 8 weeks ago – Harry Styles’ (actually really good!) “Falling” came out on 7^th March 2020, meaning that Amanda is by far the hippest of us all.  Styles is also the youngest artist on the list – at 26 years old a full 60 years younger than Frankie Valli.

“Falling” is the only one from this decade: the 1960s has 10, the 1970s have 11, the 1980s and 1990s both have 15, and the noughties 10. The 2010s had a mere 3: the Windrush Two were responsible for two of those, and Susie the other.

Margot is a jinx…

76% of those artists were male and a mere 13% female (we had 7 mixed-gender bands).  87% of the artists chosen are still alive and kicking, including the oldest – Frankie Valli, who was born in 1934, and Kris Kristofferson who appeared two years later.

But here’s an extraordinary thing!

Three of the artists (5%) have died since I asked you for your submissions!  Bill Withers shuffled off on 30^th March, the lead singer of The Statler Brothers followed on 20^th April 2020, and then Millie Small (who sang “My Boy Lollipop”) on 5^th May.

All three of them were chosen by Margot, who must never be allowed to put a list together ever again. At the very least Elton John, The Beach Boys and Runrig should be checking in with their doctors.

Bobby Love

The most common word in all the song titles was ‘back’. Amazingly, ‘Love’ only appears twice – both from Windrush – which is just as much as the word ‘Bobby’ – which came from Windrush too.

Fact: Glasgow > Edinburgh

27 of the artists come from the United States, 20 from England, 7 from Scotland, two from Northern Ireland and one each from Canada, Iceland, Ireland, Italy and Jamaica.

In terms of cities, London is best represented with 13 artists, followed by 8 from New York. I am almost embarrassed to point out that Glasgow has four bands represented here, beating Memphis, Detroit and the entire state of California. A mere one (1) for Leith and/or Edinburgh (through Susie’s pal Dean Owens). Before you start complaining, The Proclaimers are from Auchtermuchty. If you push it, I’ll point to the fact that Mark Knopfler from Dire Straits was born and went to primary school in Glasgow.

The individual lists

Below, I’ve set out everyone’s lists, in the order received.

Margot:

Margot was the first to respond, just before her voodoo tricks on at least one Statler Brother and poor Millie Small took effect.

Her first choice was “Sloop John B” which features the amazing Hal Blaine on drums. In fact, he appears on four of the 70 songs: on another of Margot’s choices, “Bridge Over Troubled Water” as well as “Be My Baby”, and “God Only Knows”.

She also picked “Me And Bobby McGhee” by Kris Kristofferson, the only artist on the list with a degree from Oxford University. Interestingly, this song was also recorded by The Statler Bros (dead, see above) and by Kenny Rogers (died in late March of this year). Margot’s reign of terror continues…

Susie:

I was at a funeral last year where they played the “Morning Has Broken” melody, but the words were in Gaelic. Someone told me afterwards that it’s actually a traditional song called Bunessan, named after the village in Mull. As it was written sometime in the 1780s, it’s almost certainly the oldest tune on the list.

Speaking of which, Susie also had Runrig on her list (as did Margot), whose first album was called “Play Gaelic”.  The chosen song “Loch Lomond” was later plagiarised for Rod Stewart’s 1980s dirge “Rhythm Of My Heart” – thankfully, Susie picked his much better Maggie May. Rod The Mod also appears on another of her songs: he sings backing vocals on “Hi Ho Silver Lining”, Jeff Beck’s 1967 hit.

I didn’t know this but Ian Hunter from Mott The Hoople was brought up in Hamilton, South Lanarkshire – so maybe Scotland can claim a tenuous link to another of these songs: “All The Way From Memphis”. And, while we’re on tenuous links, we should note that “Graceland” (by Paul Simon) is of course in Memphis.

Susie’s final choice, fittingly for the time we’re living through, is the upbeat “It Could Be Worse” by Leith’s own Dean Owens.

Kirsty:

With five of the 8 songs on her list from artists of BAME backgrounds, Kirsty is the most right-on or has the blackest soul of us all.

Amazingly for an exercise like this, when she chose Freda Payne’s “Band Of Gold” and Rick James’ “Superfreak” she picked the only Motown songs on the list. Others recorded songs there but none of the ones you lot chose were released on that label or its subsidiaries…

Rick James and Lauryn Hill have something else (beyond Kirsty’s list) in common: both have done jail time. Watching his video again, who’d have guessed that old Rick was a wrong ‘un?

Interestingly, there’s another Bill Withers angle here. Blackstreet’s “No Diggity” has him as of its co-writers because it samples his “Grandma’s Hands”.

As her husband, I can’t help but shake my head at the irony of Kirsty choosing “Insomnia” – she’s evidently trolling me with that one.

Jimmy:

Jimmy’s took the most effort to collect, mainly because The Corrymeela Singers’ “Pollen Of Peace” is the only song from the 61 that had no digital footprint at all – not on iTunes, Spotify, Deezer or YouTube…until now. I tracked down a copy of the original vinyl LP from 1980 in a record shop in Cornwall (it still has the original paper insert featuring a photo of a Ms Susan Hudson) and put it online here.

A great selection all round but I must admit to being surprised at seeing “Jump” by The Pointer Sisters there. It reminded me of that Simpsons episode where Homer reveals his favourite song of all time is “It’s Raining Men” by The Weather Girls.

Kieran:

Some great songs here, and with a big Bruce Springsteen flavour. Not only does his “Bobby Jean” turn up, but it’s notable that The Boss has covered both Jackie Wilson’s “(Your Love Keeps Lifting Me) Higher & Higher” and Arcade Fire’s “Keep The Car Running” in recent concerts.

Kieran chose a different Proclaimers song (“There’s A Touch”) from Susie, Kirsty, Jimmy and Paddy – who all picked “Sunshine On Leith”.

As far as I know, Sturgill Simpson (whose lovely old skool country song “The Promise” Kieran chose) is the only person on the list who has contracted and survived COVID19.

And here’s a top tip: do not explore what an arab strap actually is.

Donna:

December has lots of ups and downs but, for me, its one constant is an opportunity to rehearse my favourite music argument. Every year there will be a debate about what the best Christmas song of all time is, and the talking heads will say “Oh, it’s definitely “Fairytale of New York”.

Bollocks. It’s actually one of the best songs of all time full stop, at any time of year. It’s perfect.

It’s slow and fast; ragged and sweet; stupid and wise. The line ‘I could have been someone’ could begin any great novel. And the way Kirsty MacColl harmonises the words “Galway Bay” surprises me every single time.

Donna chose Frankie Valli & The Four Seasons “December 1963” (which Frankie Valli didn’t actually sing: I hadn’t realised that until watching that video), and Billy Joel’s “Piano Man”. Joel’s biggest hit here in the UK was “Uptown Girl” which he said was inspired by Frankie Valli & The Four Seasons’ doo-wop style. You might remember that the star of the Uptown Girl video was Christie Brinkley, whose real name is actually Hudson….

I didn’t know much about the Backstreet Boy’s song “Drowning” but here’s a thing: the woman who wrote it, Linda Thompson, was Elvis Presley’s girlfriend just before he died and then she married Bruce Jenner (now known as the TV personality Caitlyn Jenner). I bet her autobiography is a hoot.

Amanda:

Amanda’s choices were unusual in that there was no overlap with anyone else: all unique artists and songs.  She also had the most recent set of tunes: nothing before the 80s, all the way up to the big lockdown itself.

I was going to comment that it’s maybe the most upbeat set of songs too: “Somewhere Over The Rainbow”, “Raise Your Glass”, ”Sunchyme”… even “Cosmic Girl” are all buoyant, optimistic numbers.

But then I remembered that the OMD song “Enola Gay” – although a jaunty wee synth effort – references the single most destructive act of war in history.

Paddy:

Paddy had obviously given this a lot of thought: he has very deliberately curated the longest playlist of any of us, with a running time of 47 mins (by contrast, his sister has a mere 27 mins before she would have to press repeat).

One of his longest choices is “All My Friends” by LCD Soundsystem. He recommended that to me many years ago and, on that basis and due to an iPod cock-up during one of the Edinburgh Half Marathons, I had to listen to it on repeat at least 13 times in a row. It does have the lovely line ‘and with a face like a dad..’ which he will now know all about.

Along with Donna and me, Paddy also picked “Be My Baby” giving it joint billing with Sunshine On Leith which was also picked three times. Paddy voted for that one too.

“Be My Baby” brings us neatly round to The Beach Boys again, with “God Only Knows” one of Paddy’s choices. Brian Wilson has always said that “Be My Baby” – its sound, its arrangement, its feel – was the inspiration for everything he did later. “It started playing … All of a sudden it got into this part—”be my, be my baby”—and I said “What is—that?! Whoa whoa!… My God! … Wait a minute! … No way!” I was flipping out. Balls-out totally freaked out when I heard. … In a way it wasn’t like having your mind blown, it was like having your mind revamped”.

He’s right. Imagine what it must have been like to be sitting in front of the TV and seeing/hearing this for the first time.

When Rolling Stone magazine did its ‘Greatest Songs Of All Time’ list in 2005, “God Only Knows” came in at 25, “Be My Baby” at 22. None of our other choices were higher.

I wasn’t aware of this Sigur Ros song Ara Batur until Paddy’s list came through. I now think it’s one of the most beautiful pieces of music I’ve ever heard.

David:

I’ve blabbed on about two of my favourites already, both of which I share with Donna.

And I had to go for at least one Rolling Stones song. In the end I went for “Gimme Shelter” whose end of days, apocalyptic tone seemed appropriate at the beginning of lockdown. But those sketchy, scratchy little riffs that start that masterpiece have thrilled me for nearly 40 years: it’s the first song on Let It Bleed, one of the very few LPs my dad had in the house when I was growing up.

The only band I’ve seen more than the Stones are my beloved Teenage Fanclub. Their “Ain’t That Enough” is as good as any, and celebrates the sun coming up, which seems fair enough at the moment.  My Blue Nile choice is also about the weather. “Tinseltown In The Rain”  is on the face of it just about the pissing rain in Glasgow, and how weirdly beautiful that can be. I’ve always thought that Frank Sinatra should have covered this.

I’ll mention just two more. The first is a song I’d never even heard until January of this year, when it was thrown at me for Italian homework. “L’appuntamento” by Ornella Vanoni feels quite summer-y, with that bossa nova thing going on (it’s based on a Brazilian tune). But the lyrics, about a woman waiting on her lover coming back, are quite sad:

“Amore, fai presto, io non resisto. Se tu non arrivi, non esisto, non esisto, non esisto…” – I think that means: “Love, be quick, I can’t stand waiting/ and if you don’t arrive…I don’t exist, I don’t exist, I don’t exist…”

And finally.

 

Ladies & Gentlemen.

 

Be upstanding for the Queen.

Writing and singing the Blues as well as she did Soul or Gospel…”Good To Me As I Am To You”.

 

Let’s Spend The Night Together

In a couple of hours’ time, I’ll meet my mates Davie and Jeff at Sticky Fingers restaurant in Kensington, London – all three of us our way to see The Rolling Stones play tonight at Twickenham.

This will be the 20th time I’ve seen them live. I’ve spent terrifying amounts of money on tickets, travel and accommodation to do that, and unforgivable chunks of time that could have been spent on more useful things.

Every time I see them, I know it might be their last. Even now, there’s always the hope that they do more shows: they certainly look fit and up for it and their recent gigs have been great. But time’s marching on, and the idea that all four of these men in their mid to late 70s will do these kind of shows again diminishes almost by the day.

Tonight might actually be the last time.

Mannish Boy

I’ve been obsessed with The Stones for roughly 28 years.

In June 1990, when I was 14, my mate Paddy gave me his Hot Rocks cassette. While there had been Stones records in the house growing up (my dad had a spectacularly scuffed copy of the Let It Bleed LP), that greatest hits compilation was a revelation.  Starting with Time Is On My Side in 1964 through to 1971’s Wild Horses, it’s still the best distillation of peak period Rolling Stones. For months afterwards, it didn’t come out of my Walkman, and when it did, that was only because I’d gotten hold of other compilations – More Hot Rocks, Rewind and Made In The Shade. Who really knows why certain types of music resonate personally but since those days, their punchy, spiky, funky, sloppy songs about menace and dread and fun have been a daily part of my life.

For Christmas 1990 I was given (on VHS cassette) the 25×5 video. This was a made for US television documentary on the history of the Stones, and a puff piece for their then Steel Wheels tour. To this day my pal Scott and I can quote the whole film verbatim. I’ve a special fondness for the bit where Mick and Keith are writing the otherwise dreadful Mixed Emotions together. Seeing Keith – B&H dangling from his lips, chopping out huge major and minor chords from his telecaster, searching for a melody, and still trying to impress his buddy – is one of the loveliest sights in music…

Anyway, the point of all this Hot Rocks and 25×5 business is that these were retrospectives. We thought that was the end then, that these were the last few notes of their career, and a quarter century of performing was a decent stint. It was very likely that I wouldn’t get a chance to see them live.

Got Live If You Want It
So if you’d told me as a teenager that they’d still be going in 2018 – 55 years after they started out in Dartford – and that I’d get to see them live so many times, I’d have been chuffed to bits. And those gigs have given me some of the best days, nights and weekends of my life.

• The very first one in 1995, via a coach trip with Scott from Glasgow to Sheffield: due to exhaustion, excitement or too much cheap lager, I passed out half way through Midnight Rambler and had to be looked after by the Red Cross for 20 mins.
• The same year, I queued up outside Brixton Academy on my own for 13 hours and spent three weeks wages on a ticket from a tout.
• In 1999, several good friends (my missus, big Derek, Gill, Kirsten and Alex) and I made an overnight trip to Wembley in a minibus from Aberdeen – a mere 550 miles. When we arrived – tired, shaken by Derek driving into a hard shoulder, and irritated by Alex’s vegetarian curry for breakfast at 5am – we wandered over to the ticket office. “Have you come far?” said the girl at the counter. “Yes, all the way from Aberdeen actually”, we replied. “Well done, but apparently some people have come from as far away as Derby…” said our geographically illiterate vendor.
• Living in London in the noughties made things slightly easier for gigs, but it did mean that my flat was regularly invaded by mates from Scotland and beyond – by Scott, both Norrie brothers, big Colin, Alex and Waj. I remember having to walk back from Twickenham Stadium to Ealing with my friend Mark – nominally a two-hour trek – albeit this time we punctuated it by a three hour open air kip in Kew Gardens.
• That said, even when I lived in London I still went to concerts in Scotland, cajoling my good friends David and Clare to see them in the pissing rain at Hampden. Not convinced I ever won them over – or my best man Alasdair who is still the only person I know who left a Stones gig before the end because he had work the next day.
• Seeing the Stones play Hyde Park in 2013 with Scott and big Davie was a real thrill. Being part of that huge crowd on the hottest day that London had had for years was special enough but the whole weekend was just incredible. I met my pal Jeff properly for the first time the night before; his first act was to – literally – give me the Mick Jagger/Linda Ronstadt shirt off his back. We also met Stevie and his missus Patsy that weekend; they still keep in touch to this day. And the day after, our train journey home coincided almost exactly with Andy Murray’s Wimbledon final win. Trying to watch that on 3G phones, after 2 hours sleep and with punishing hangovers, was brutal.

• Martin and I did a day trip to Sweden in 2014 – an early flight to Stockholm, a trip to the Abba Museum, an afternoon in the pub and then headed to the gig. At that late stage, we just couldn’t afford hotel rooms so we simply stayed up all night until our flight. Home in time for breakfast…
• My brother in law Ross and I interrupted a family holiday in Florida to go a gig in Buffalo, upstate New York. We did that one in 26 hours, but only via cheap Southwest Airline flights that went through Maryland and South Carolina…
• A more leisurely itinerary in Amsterdam last year with Alan and Deborah; an AirBnB flat, a few drinks and some grub on the river Amstel and then a train to the Arena. Relative sobriety didn’t stop all three of us gulping back the tears when Keith did Slipping Away…
• And then last weekend at Murrayfield, in the company of most of the people named above as well as Jimmy and Kieran Hudson, big Val and Stevie A. All of us knowing, really, that they won’t be back in Edinburgh…

It’s All Over Now

And so to tonight. 

There will be few surprises.

I’ll predict with absolute certainty they will play 19 songs this evening, 16 of those are nailed-on and I could tell you the running order of the set from number six onwards. Jagger will have some lame banter about last night’s England match vs Tunisia, about West London and some anecdotes about playing in jazz and blues clubs nearby in the early 60s. Keith will do his ‘It’s great to be home London…but it’s great to be anywhere’ schtick. Charlie will be introduced reluctantly as a local hero (he’s from up the road in Wembley). Ronnie will be scampering about like a newborn puppy. There will definitely be bum notes, ropey chords and a few off-key solos.

They will finish with an eight or nine-minute version of Satisfaction, followed by all the on-stage bows and a huge fireworks display.

And, on screen, it will say ‘See You Again’.

But this time, although I’ll hang on to that hope, I probably won’t…

The last leg of this trip has taken us to Austin for a couple of days. We’re staying with Al’s friend Neal and his girlfriend Sasha, who have given us the very best of Texan hospitality: doling out outrageous generosity with their time, their beer, their food…

….and their boat. Neal took the four of us out on Lake Austin for a few hours on Friday night, initially for dinner and a few beers at the Hula Hut. But he followed that up with crazy speedboat runs, sound-tracked mostly by Nathanial Rateliff & The Nightsweats. As long as I live, I will always associate S.O.B. with that night and the very happy memories of piling across that lake, Koozies in hand, and stopping off for some swimming not far off midnight.

Bumming around town with them, and letting them show us Austin, has been a great way to end the trip. Today, among countless other things, we stopped off for ribs and refreshments at a little shack at the side of the road.

Visited the University of Texas Football Stadium where Neal’s beloved ‘Long Horns’ play. The stadium is predictably bigger than most of the professional football stadia back in Scotland.

Stopped off again at a weird bar-cum-butchery where we necked some craft beer and genned up on meat history.

And a cracking night out downtown, visiting loads of bars

…and getting first hand proof that its people work hard at Keeping Austin Weird.

The final Presidential Library & Museum visit of the trip (the 5th), Lyndon Baines Johnson’s based at the University of Texas in Austin.

And I think it’s the best of those I’ve seen to date. It may be that’s because of the sheer scope of the man himself – his life is the history of the US in the 20th century, and the museum reflects that: his poverty-stricken background; his training as a teacher; his work for FDR in the 1930s; a hugely influential period in the Senate; his vice-presidency; JFK’s assassination (and some lovely bits on his relationship with Jackie Kennedy); his pushing of the space programme, pop culture in the 60s; and civil rights. All probably bear repeated visits.

It is a library too of course, with several of the 9 floors devoted to the records created during his five years in office.  It’s easily forgotten just how forcefully and effectively LBJ used his powers in those early years.

 

In 1965 alone, he rammed through legislation on Voting Rights, Medicare, Medicaid and Education reform changing his country for the better – perhaps in a way no other has done certainly since then, and arguably with only FDR and Lincoln before him doing more.

His tragedy (and that of the US in those days) was an inability to pull back from the quagmire of Vietnam. It is laudable that that part of his presidency is in no way whitewashed to spare his reputation here. There are several huge rooms devoted to records and correspondence from officials, politicians, serving soldiers and grieving families making the case for both sides of the argument.

At home, I have all four current volumes of Robert Caro’s biography of LBJ. That Caro is nowhere near completing the fifth (which will begin in that incredible year of 1965) perhaps tells its own story.

Al and I drove through to Fort Worth last night. I had initially thought FW was a district of Dallas (and it took about 40 mins to get there) but it is a huge city in its own right – with a population of 850,000, it’s bigger than any metropolitan area in Scotland.

The guidebook recommended a trip to the famous Fort Worth stockyards, essentially an historic livestock market built and opened in the late 19th century, but which for the past 40 years have housed a few square miles of entertainment and shopping venues exploiting that “Cowtown” image of the city. It’s definitely worth a visit: loads of lovely period piece buildings still in use day and night.

I finally made it to a real, live Honky-Tonk too. I must admit that, despite being an astonishingly irritating Rolling Stones bore, I didn’t really know what a honky-tonk actually was – assuming it was merely a sleazy boozer/bordello.

Billy Bob’s Texas purports to be the biggest honky-tonk in the world, at 125,000 square feet, and celebrates its 35^th birthday later this year. It’s hosted gigs by Johnny Cash, George Jones, Willie Nelson and Waylon Jennings (the latter releasing the album Honky-Tonk Heroes in 1973).

And it’s bonkers.  Basically it’s several music stages, a couple of gambling dens, pool rooms, loads of bars, a few steak and hot dogs stalls, a shop, arcade games and – obviously – a rodeo for bull-riding competition.

And stuffed bears.

And people of all ages line-dancing.

All in a massive theatre cum shed. All pretty badly lit, and with a pervasive whiff of (literally) bullshit.

It was magic. They should open one up in Glasgow .

By the end of this trip I will have visited six of the 13 Presidential Libraries. I started, in 2009, with JFK’s in Boston – a sharp I. M. Pei designed building on the Columbia Point Peninsula. It’s a good resource, an honest(ish) celebration of his life and legacy, with an appropriate lack of emphasis on the assassination element.

Obviously, there’s loads of that in Dallas. Yesterday, Al and I went down to wander about Dealey Plaza and Elm Street, and visit the Texas School Depository, a building now transformed into The Sixth Floor Museum. We only spent an hour or so there but could easily have spent longer:  there’s loads of artefacts, photos, films, interviews and detailed information not only on the assassination and its aftermath but (even more) about Kennedy’s life, his Presidency and its impact.

Hearing the famous contemporary radio recordings and watching the Zapruder film of the killing just 50 yards from where it happened (and being able to see the actual spot) is profoundly moving; several people around me during the tour were in tears at that point, and not all of them were US citizens nor likely to have been alive in 1963.

There loads of folk around. I’m a huge Kennedy fan but even I was surprised to see just how much interest there still is in him, more than 50 years on. On a really humid Wednesday afternoon in late July we had to queue up for this museum, and had to shuffle slowly around the various exhibits with a pretty large crowd. The loss of a young, attractive President was shocking enough but the televised horror of his violent death has rendered him immortal.

A final point on JFK. Unlike many Presidents since, he was tested. His adroit handling of the Cuban Missile Crisis in 1962 was one of the most important acts of statesmanship in the past century: it’s no hyperbole to say that he and his team prevented a nuclear conflict that would have had devastating global effects. For that alone, he deserves the adulation.

As planned, we also visited an official Presidential Library in Dallas – George W. Bush’s – hosted by the Southern Methodist University. I hadn’t really thought much beforehand about the similarities between Kennedy and Bush: but both were part of political dynasties, both born into wealthy New England families, both in their early 40s when elected (and through very tight races), and both taking their countries into massively unpopular wars.

And like JFK, Bush Jnr was tested: most notably by 9/11 and its fallout, by Hurricane Katrina and by the financial crisis of 2008. But it’s likely that history will decide that Dubya just wasn’t up to those challenges.

The attack on the Twin Towers is understandably prominent in the museum, and walking through the photos, videos and actual twisted wreckage from Ground Zero is deeply moving. It brought back so many memories of that horrific day (another link to JFK: a genuine “remember where you where” moment…).

The liberal lefty in me was given pause for thought too by some of the spoken word commentary there, and especially that from Condoleezza Rice: “every day after September 11 was September 12; every day you thought it was going to happen again”. It’s hard not to empathise with the fear and panic of the administration in those early days and their need to do something/anything that protected and responded.

That they then squandered the goodwill of the global community in the months and years afterwards is a tragedy now playing out 15 years later and across several continents.

Bush and his team’s responses to Hurricane Katrina were also very poor. After days of relative inactivity by the federal government, the closest Bush actually got to those suffering in New Orleans was from the safety and comfort of the helicopters and planes of Air Force One.

There was something frankly laughable about the museum’s attempts to address that and the economic meltdown of his last few months in office. In a huge space, which took a couple of hours to walk around, just 10 ft is taken up explaining what happened, with no real attempt to detail the complexities of decisions and policy.

These libraries and museums are by nature celebratory so it’s unlikely that serious criticism would be laid bare – and that’s especially true of a President still very much alive, albeit removed from the public eye.

It may take a couple or three decades before a more balanced picture of the Dubya years emerges here at this facility. And it’s unlikely that he’ll be mourned like JFK 50 years hence.

Despite brutal hangovers, we were up and out sharp this morning heading towards the Trinity Hall Irish Pub in Mockingbird Station. I had called them last night on the off chance that they’d be showing Celtic’s Champions League qualifier against Astana and they’d said yes. When we got there, just after 9am, it turned out that they’d opened up the pub 2 hours early just for us. Really touching hospitality, which made up for an otherwise grim game of football.

At half time, I leafed through a random selection of paperbacks on a shelf. Aficionados of 1980s Scottish football and..er…sectarianism would be as baffled as I was to see ex-Rangers player Ted McMinn’s autobiography among a pile of Irish history books. And further bemused by the fact his real name is Kevin, he’s had four wives and had his foot amputated a few years ago.

Refreshed and better informed about the erstwhile “Tin Man’, we headed to Lockhart Smoke House for lunch. I would never order ribs back in the UK – too fiddly, too much hassle – but I was convinced to get them here and, yeah, the experience today was incredible. Watching the guy in the back shop chop out a rack, cook them and then dole them up with some homemade coleslaw and a root beer was a lovely bit of food theatrics. But they tasted great as well – big chunks of smoky meat just falling off the bone was a revelation.

I stopped on the way out to admire the Dr Pepper coolbox in the picture below (when I was a kid, my sisters were convinced that my love of Dr Pepper was singular proof of an emerging weirdness). The bartender here told me that it’s Texas’s very own soft drink, first made in Waco 140 years ago – pre-dating the production of Coca-Cola.

The guy also told me that – even despite that – Texans never ask for a soda or soft drink. It’s Coke — no matter what they’re ordering.

A bit like ‘ginger’ back in Scotland…

We drove into Texas late yesterday afternoon, the final state of this trip and a bit of a landmark for me: seeing the signs for Gainesville means I’ve been to 25 of the 50 states in the Union. That’s taken me 16 years. Visiting the remaining half will likely take longer – Wyoming, Nebraska and North Dakota are flyover states for a reason…

We’re staying at the Belmont Hotel, just outside downtown Dallas, for a few nights. It’s a pretty interesting place, celebrating its 70^th birthday in 2016. It was designed in the Art Moderne style – a contrast with Art Deco – notable for its emphasis on horizontal lines, rounded corners, and loads of decorative plaster facades. Some good views of Dallas too.

The evening was straightforward: a cracking slab of beef brisket in the adjacent Smoke restaurant and then – I’m not ashamed to say – Al and I got battered drunk in the hotel bar. The bartender – Taylor – sold his office furniture company last year and is setting up a Mescaleria somewhere in Dallas in the next year.  My delicate state this morning is largely due to the impromptu Mescal vs Tequila course he ran last night.

Or it might have been the rum.

Visited an extraordinary place in Oklahoma today: The National Cowboy & Western Heritage Museum. I thought it might be a little gimmicky, but it is a real gem – a serious collection of Western history, art, and culture.

Anyone with an interest in what the West was and is should stop here and take the time (at least half a day) to appreciate the thousands of paintings, sculptures, tapestries, maps, vintage clothes and firearms on display, and watch the hundreds of specially-curated radio, TV and film clips going back nearly 100 years. It makes clear that the appropriation and exploitation of the cowboy history had a huge impact on the early years of Hollywood and recorded popular music. That stuff had me engrossed: loads of crazy cowboy suits and boots as worn by Gene Autry, Rex Allen and Roy Rogers.

It is a brilliant primer too on Native American culture, with several galleries devoted to the art of indigenous American peoples. Perhaps its most famous exhibit is ‘The End of the Trail’, made by the sculptor James Earle Fraser in 1894 as a monument to what he believed was the ‘tragic dispossession of Native Americans’ at the end of that century. The piece itself refers to the “Trail of Tears and Deaths”, a phrase used by a Choctaw leader to describe events that forcibly and brutally removed most of the Native population of the southeastern United States from traditional homelands – begun by Andrew Jackson and Martin Van Buren in the 1830s. That’s the same Andrew Jackson whose spirit is currently being summoned by Donald Trump as support for his brand of neo-populist bullshit…

It’s a reminder anyway that the myth of the West is not only a rugged and romantic tale of man vs nature but often a true and sordid story of man vs man.