Desert Island Discs

I imagine my thoughtful pose hasn't changed much since this picture was taken.

The venerable Walker has had a bit of a thing lately for Desert Island Discs over at Burning Aquarium, well 2 posts - one for Morrissey's selection and one for the mighty John Peel's. Quite how Peely manage to select 8 tracks I'll never know but if he can do it then, by damn, so can I. Plus, I kind of told Walker I would. Me and my big mouth.

Cue much chin resting in hand and looking thoughtful while I try to dredge the memory banks for ideas. Mrs H and I had a discussion about it, while I procrastinated in the background of my brain, and between us we decided that any tracks chosen would have to have a certain resonance. That is, a personal attachment arising out of a significant memory or an emotional attachment not necessarily bestowed by times gone past but nonetheless important. I think most of these fall into the former. I also had to choose songs that I would never tire of hearing lest I drive myself insane on that remote Pacific island.

Anyway here we go:

1. The Cure - Charlotte Sometimes

Absolutely worshipped this song as a Goth in my formative years and, having only relatively recently read the book, I s'pose I still do. I will also never forget the eager anticipation and monumental let-down I experienced on receiving the video singles collection - Standing On A Beach - and waiting for, and then wincing through, the accompanying video. It's awful. Robert Smith said he nearly cried the first time he saw it. I know how he feels.


2. Michael Nyman - Memorial

Nyman dedicated this work to the Juventus fans that died at Heysel but I heard it first when watching the Peter Greenaway film The Cook, The Thief, His Wife & Her Lover. My girlfriend of the time and I went to see it at The Cameo in Edinburgh. I'll warn you - it isn't a romantic comedy. As I recall there is a shot pretty early on in the film of someone being forced to eat dog shit, not in close-up mind, and a few people started walking out. It was their loss. The film is brilliant and so is this piece of music.


3. Nirvana - Dive

In the early 90's I was working as a BT engineer and my rota was such that I had every 2nd Friday off. I also had a very tall mate called Mark who played the drums in a couple of bands. I can passably play rhythm guitar of the simple bar chord variety and, is there no beginning to my talents you cry, I can sing a tune along as well. Mark had the rehearsal space, the drums and the amps. I had my own electric guitar and a steady supply of hash so many a Friday would drift past with us thrashing out Nirvana tunes on guitar, drums and vocals only (I like to think we inspired The White Stripes). God I miss doing that.


4. Joy Division - Insight

This one is pure indulgence to the depression illness. If Mrs H hears Joy Division on at any time she knows it's a bad one. And for the lyrics: "Guess your dreams always end, They don't rise up - just descend, But I don't care any more, I've lost the will to want more"


5. The Smiths - What She Said

Andy introduced me to The Smiths around 1985/6 I think it was and at first I didn't get it. But when I did, they were unstoppable and Morrissey could do very little wrong. This is also by way of penance for the time I deliberately knocked his sandwiches into the sand, in retaliation for him accidentally knocking my coke over, on a primary school trip to South Queensferry. He cried and I have never forgiven myself.


6. Otis Redding - These Arms Of Mine

If you don't love Otis Redding then you don't have soul. Simple as.


7. The Four Tops - Wak Away Renee

Surprisingly for The Four Tops this wasn't a Holland-Dozier-Holland number. It's a cover of a song originally written by Michael Brown, of The Left Banke, when he was 16! My love of Motown stems from my sisters brief dalliance with the early 80's Mod revival. She would be playing The Jam, The Chords, Secret Affair and the rest along with a selection of Motown classics. I refer to it as a 'dalliance' though as within a few years she was buying Whitney Houston, Madonna and all manner of SAW tripe. I like to think she set my musical taste on a far preferable trajectory to the one she subsequently chose. This one's for her as, despite our closeness for most of the 80s, we rarely speak now.


8. Crass - I Ain't Thick (It's Just A Trick)

An anarchist anti-manifesto in the space of 4½ minutes of punk invective. Fucking genius.


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