I’m not a big fan of Desert Island Discs. I don’t religiously tune in to it on a Sunday morning, although I confess that if it’s on and it is someone I have actually heard of, I will be interested enough to give it half of my attention. I am, after all, a woman and hence more than capable of multi-tasking! But last Sunday it was Martin Clunes and so this was a rare occasion when not only had I heard of the person being interviewed, I actually liked him, too.
What struck me the most about him was that all of his musical choices fitted - almost - perfectly within a twenty year window. Clearly to him music was about the memories that it evoked, just as my last blog mentioned. I was really very surprised by his choices. I don’t know what I had expected but it certainly hadn’t been T-Rex and Rod Stewart! But it made me think… (yes, from time to time, I am capable of such a thing!): What would my eight discs - or MP3 files or whatever in this day and age - be? So here they are, correct to 24th September 2011. I know the BBC invited listeners to nominate their own 8 earlier this year, but I wasn’t happy with the results and besides I’ve always been a little behind the times!
Take Me Home, Country Roads - John Denver
My first memory of picking what music to listen to, unsurprisingly, comes from the collection of records that belonged to my parents (most of which are still with us minus a few Beatles ones!). We never listened to the Beatles ones, even when we had them. They were Dad’s and the only LPs of Dad’s I remember listening to were The Baron Knights and Stanley Holloway. Melanie, Don McLean and Bad Company - all Mum’s - were amongst the others that we would listen to, along with The Spinners - and I’m not sure who that belonged to but it is definitely in part responsible for my interest and love of folk music. But one of the only artists whose name appeared more than once on the record collection was John Denver. He made and moulded what music should be for me, and it probably isn’t the same as most youngsters perceived it. Here was a man who sang songs about things that I could understand, sometimes fast, fun songs, sometimes slow ballads - but they always told a story. I don’t think he was what anyone would call glamorous - even me whose taste in men is unlike anyone else’s - in fact I spent some time believing the picture of him on the front of the LP was a scarecrow. He was such a deep thinking person and produced incredible melodies it is impossible to say which is my favourite. If I had to pick one track, I’d opt for Take Me Home, Country Roads simply because it was the first time I had heard my name sung. If I’d been called Jane or Ann it would have been no big deal, but Virginia is a harder name to stumble across in song!
(Everything I Do) I Do It For You - Bryan Adams
I couldn’t miss this out. My first album at the age of six was Waking Up The Neighbours by Bryan Adams. This was the forming of my first crush. We went to see Robin Hood Prince of Thieves at the old Phoenix Cinema in Kirkwall. I don’t remember too much about the film itself, although each time I rewatch it vague emotions and memories filter through to me from the back of my mind, but I do remember queuing unlike you would ever see today in cinemas. I never knew there was a caravan park at the back of the supermarket until we had to queue past it. The song from Robin Hood was just unbelievable, somewhere in my still young heart it stirred a love of those ballads that were predominantly 80s, but it seemed like all the ballads had been leading up to this one. We bought the single - on cassette as it was in those days, same as my album - and I fell totally in love with it. And, yes, the rumours are true - I cried when its 16 week reign of the charts came to an end.
The 1812 Overture - Tchaikovsky
The 1812 Overture is like a musical mirror to my soul and personality. It is quiet and remote in places then thunderous and loud in others. I’m sure the Music Police will be after me for saying this, but I’m not sure that there is anything - at least of particular note - in the rest of the 1812 and, let’s face it, the overture is long enough in its entirety to count as an entire performance! It’s a piece that I could listen to over and over again. And, of course, it is necessary to feign being a conductor at key parts of it, rather like Tristan in All Creatures Great and Small!
Solveig’s Song - Grieg
Grieg is - or rather: was - one of the rarely acknowledged geniuses of the musical world. With the exception of The Hall of the Mountain King which I used to associate entirely with Alton Towers, I didn’t really discover Grieg’s music until I was about eleven or twelve. It was at a time when we had just moved away from the idyllic, rich island community of Orkney where I grew up down to the comparative hustle of a small Lincolnshire town. We didn’t really belong there, after ten years of living with the elements as your neighbours having people kicking in your door or smashing windows was not exactly what we were used to. How is this possibly relevant? Simply because Grieg’s music had the power to transport us from that built-up, suffocating place and back to the open countryside where we always really belonged. Each time I hear that broad violin lead in Solveig’s song it makes me think of a vast greenness of fields and woods, climbing up the sides of mountains and it’s always sunny there. I think it creates a portal within me to the best times I remember, the sunniest days and the happiest hours with the haunting depth of intensity that the violin gives.
Tear Down These Walls - RunRig
RunRig’s Big Wheel tour in 1991 was a groundbreaking event. For the first time ever a major rock group were running a tour of the Highlands and Islands. I know the Beatles came and did gigs north of Inverness, but they were still in utter obscurity at the time. I don’t begrudge the people who won’t head up here to perform but when RunRig announced their tour small communities were suddenly put on the map and since then several bands have played in the towns of the Scottish Highlands and Islands. I knew RunRig’s music - I was intensely interested in music at the time they released this album - but it wasn’t until they re-emerged in my life ten years later that I really began to appreciate the lyrics and melodies of their music. For those of you who know anything about the group you will know that Tear Down These Walls wasn’t even from The Big Wheel album, but I picked this song for two reasons. Firstly, I love the words and what they mean - I don’t remember where I was when the Berlin Wall came down, but it will henceforth be associated with this song. And secondly because Donnie Munro’s voice just melts me. I went to see RunRig in Sheffield a few years ago. It was a fantastic night, but I have to admit to an element of sadness that I never got to see the “classic six” performing together…
Where The Roses - Donnie Munro
…But then again, I am not sorry that Donnie Munro formed his own band with some fantastic musicians. I consider some of them real friends, and I can never get to enough of their gigs. This isn’t my favourite Donnie Munro song, but every time I listen to it I think of seeing them live - standing right beside the amp and jumping up and down to Morph’s guitar lead. There is a quality of folksiness that seems fitting in a Highlander’s music. All Donnie Munro’s music makes me smile, it brings happy memories of our first gig in Langholm, gin and Fanta in a teacup, and the utter excitement of being able to walk to one of the gigs, just five minutes from our house. Gie it mince!
The Breaking of the Fellowship - Howard Shore
As those of you who have stumbled onto this page via my webpage or twitter will know, I love to write. I write in all styles and genres - some more successfully than others, it must be said! - but at age 15 my writing took a sudden leap forward. It’s not surprising that it was music that helped me to do this. Around about the year 2000 epics were enjoying the start of a comeback. While I utterly love films, particularly those of an epic nature, I began to listen to their soundtracks as pieces of music, not just as where they came in a film. Since Michael Kamen’s score and Bryan Adams’ song for Robin Hood, I had been very aware of the significance of music in movies, but now - with the arrival of the Gladiator soundtrack - I started to find that the music come mean something specifically for me. Because the soundtrack tapped into an element of my soul that I had not known of before, my writing did the same thing. And, as they say, I haven’t looked back since! The Breaking of the Fellowship from Howard Shore’s Lord of the Rings score is one of the most powerful pieces I have ever heard, and yes - this is one of those pieces I mentioned in last week’s blog as being more than capable of making me cry for no apparent reason at all.
All I Ask Of You - Andrew Lloyd Webber
This had to be here. Last year a man called Peter Sanderson died. He was one of those individuals who are like a beacon on life’s journey and his charity group - The Axholme Connexion - was undoubtedly, in part, responsible for encouraging my sisters and myself onto the stage in musical performance. This was mine and Lydia’s song. Naturally, I sang the lower part, Lydia’s voice more than comfortably covering Christine’s insanely high range. Some years later we trundled down for a London adventure to watch Phantom at the west end which was absolutely spellbinding. We were within reach of the orchestra pit and at times it really felt that the performance was put on just for us. And the arrival of the film was spectacular in another way; full of glamour and an honest portrayal of how awfully seedy the opera house actually would have been. But despite all its successes before and since, I can’t listen to Phantom without remembering those Connexion days, not least because Peter’s rendition of Music of the Night - even with the words painted on boards - featured lyrics that Charles Hart and Richard Stilgoe certainly never wrote!
So for those of you who persevered and managed to read all this - congratulations! There is a portion of my soul through the music that I love and that has defined the person I am. Just to complete the Desert Island Discs, as well as the Bible and Shakespeare my book would (after much consideration) be Dumas’ The Three Musketeers and my luxury would have the be an unending supply of writing equipment. I’ve always loved the sea - I could be quite happy living on a desert island.
Well, less Desert Island Discs and more Biopic Through Music, but I hope I’ve proved my point: no chapter of our life is complete without music.
