In reply to Tall Clare:
> To continue with the spirit of the thread, can you explain their significance?
ok.
Blue, Joni Mitchell
I once spent two terms at Uni with an old Music Centre which had a radio but could not play the collection of CDs I had managed to keep hold of. It had a record player though and there was a second hand record shop in town. £1.95 landed me a Joni Mitchell album, Blue. I'd never heard it before but I knew some of her work and that my Dad liked her when he was younger. Wow. and Wow. In fact I never bought another record for ages. Some nights I'd lay there listening intently to each word uttered, each line, each song. The book unfolded. By the end of the second term I could pretty much play every song on the guitar, had cried because of the music I was listening to, had seemingly understood more about the world from a woman's point of view. I had grown slightly.
Unhalfbricking, Fairport Convention
You can get some duff Fairport albums but you can get some utter crackers. A girlfriend bought this because it contained a couple of classics she knew. The first time I heard A Sailor's Life, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. This was my introduction to better composition, building anthemic patterns whilst jamming as a collective, attempting to paint words over a growing palette of musical colour. Really enjoyable. Really real. Part of me and my style.
Blood on the tracks, Bob Dylan
My first love and I would lay up in her room, madly in love, unable to pull our hands from each other and sometimes unable to get up to fix the repetitious jump in some of the tracks. There was no blood, only love, for the first sweet time.
Live in London 1968, Tim Buckley
Someone told me about Danny Thompson having joined Tim Buckley on a tour for a show or two and that one of them had been recorded. I couldn't find a copy of it anywhere and then it was re-released. I wasn't that much of a Buckley fan, but the voice alone was enough to draw me in a bit. His studio work always seemed a bit tinkywinky and I didn't get it. I looked at the tracklist and played the longest tracks first. At the time I was in my first band and had a PA in my room, with a CD player attached. Good Christ. I sat there and listened to Wayfaring Stranger/You Got Me Runnin and wondered how I had not possibly imagined the potential of a 12-string. Dumbstruck and stoned, I wondered at the mistakes, the passion, the detuning, the moments captured of a live recording.
Abbey Road, The Beatles
The medley always got me. It's as composite a professional production job as ever I've heard. When I got married, we took three CDs to the venue, but only Abbey Road would work in the player, so we had to spurn Bach's Cello Concerto and something else I can't remember and suddenly choose three songs from Abbey Road. She walked in to 'Come Together', we signed to 'Because' and we left triumphantly to 'The End', after I'd tugged her dress and made her wait until the drum solo before walking out. Love you, Love you, Love you, Love you... and in the end etc. It was all really lovely.
the stone roses
1989, the radio was full of nonsense and the kool kids were going to raves and enjoying dance music - which was frankly all a bit plastic. Thank Elvis for the Manchester scene of which The Stone Roses spearheaded it's authentic content directly at me. I didn't want to dance to anything else.
the Bends, Radiohead
This was a cultured body of work that was so much more than Pop Music and a taste of things to come. By the time this came out I was an accomplished musician and writing some great stuff - if a little folky and harmony based. the Bends pulled me back from the dangerous edge and reminded me that vision, engineering and production with loud loud guitars could work too.
Deja vu, CSNY
My Dad had this when I was a toddler and I didn't rediscover it until I was about 18 or 19. For a while it was all about the harmonies, and hazy memories of hearing some of the motives and middle eights as a youngster, then it was about the content. After a while the idea of the album as a collection of songs by individuals, with added vox by everyone else in the collective really spoke to me and I can probably trace back all of my volition to buying a guitar to listening to this record.
American Beauty, the Grateful Dead
travelling round the States with a girlfriend, we'd had this horrendous argument in the Utah heat, resulting in my having poured runny butter all over her and the inside of our Mercury Cougar. We found a laundry and silently set about washing our clothes, not a word to each other. there was a Juke Box. For some reason there was a lot of Grateful Dead albums on it and I chose the studio one, loaded it up and we sat on the step in the sun, shared a fizzy drink and a joint, and opened our ears to some kind of newness. It was like a funny, slightly old-fashioned but well-crafted storyteller that was straining but not trying too hard. Attics of my Life was just a dream song, with really pure sound. Even the silly songs like Trucking had their place. We made up after that.
Pet sounds, The Beach Boys
This album contains the perfect pop song ever created in God Only Knows. No magic, just genius and drive. No charm, just sheer mathematically advanced arrangement. How could I leave this off my list. The mono version is best. On balance, it always ends up in every top ten I've ever compiled regardless of the criteria I used to compile the list.
Post edited at 00:26