The Psychedelic Furs – Mirror Moves
This album became the soundtrack to my life when I first moved to London in the 1980s. Mirror Moves had just come out, and I went to see the Furs play the Mean Fiddler in Harlesden not long afterwards. It was obvious that they were going to break into the big time: I have never seen a more charismatic frontman than Richard Butler. Subsequently I bought all their albums, but for me Mirror Moves shows the Furs at the height of their powers. The first side in particular is an absolute monster, with Heaven the highlight.
"My father was a
huge Jazz fan"
Miles Davis – Kind Of Blue
My father was a huge jazz fan, with a big collection of 78s dating back to the 1930s and early pressings of classic jazz LPs. I treasure all of them, but the one that I love and play more than any other is Kind Of Blue. It’s an extraordinary record which still casts its spell today, even on those who don’t normally warm to jazz, and which has justly taken its place in the pantheon not just of music but of our entire culture. Listening to it also takes me back to Miles’ remarkable funeral in October 1991. I happened to be in New York City at the time, and along with hundreds of other fans paid my own personal tribute by going across town to the church and standing outside in the rain as the service – attended by every living American jazz giant, and addressed by the Reverend Jesse Jackson among others – took place.
A Tribe Called Quest – The Low End Theory
A few days after Miles Davis’ funeral, the friends I was staying with in New York took me to see a hip-hop act who were making serious waves and whose second album had just been released. It was a sensational gig, the music was irresistible, and there was more than a hint of serendipity at play: throughout The Low End Theory, A Tribe Called Quest fuse hip-hop and jazz, sampling Miles and a raft of other jazz legends including many of those I’d just seen at Miles’ funeral. The album proved impossible to find on record in New York, so I bought it on CD, but I tracked down a copy on vinyl – contemporaries of which are now very rare - when I got back to England. Another happy memory is playing it to my father, who loved it and recognised many of the jazz samples.
Emerson, Lake and Palmer – Brain Salad Surgery
As a kid growing up in the 1970s, two BBC Radio 1 shows were instrumental in shaping my early music tastes: John Peel’s (of which more later), and Alan Freeman’s. It was on Alan Freeman’s Saturday Rock Show that I first heard the first two parts of Karn Evil 9, the stand-out track on ELP’s Brain Salad Surgery, which was released in November 1973. Pete Sinfield’s vivid lyrics and the virtuosity of the playing blew me away, and a couple of weeks later, with money from my paper round, Brain Salad Surgery became the first album I bought, from Bradley’s record shop in my hometown, Halifax. I still have that original copy, and treasure it. For the music, of course: I have listened to it hundreds of times. For the astonishing fold-out cover by HR Giger, the artist who famously created the alien for Ridley Scott’s Alien movie. And for the fact that the cover is signed by Pete Sinfield and Keith Emerson, who subsequently became good friends of mine. But that’s another story!
Bob Marley & The Wailers – Live! At The Lyceum
Reading about John Peel’s Radio 1 shows now, you could be forgiven for thinking that before 1977 he played only classic rock, and after 1977 only punk, post-punk and indie music. This ignores the fact that throughout his career he championed reggae and, like many of my generation, I first heard and fell in love with reggae on John’s show. My life has been immeasurably richer for it, and I have a lot of reggae in my collection, much of it bought in Jamaica, where I have been lucky enough to spend a lot of time on business and pleasure. The one I listen to most often is Bob Marley’s famous 1975 gig at the Lyceum in London, one of the greatest of all live albums. It’s a record of many moods - joyous, spiritual, romantic, political – with the highlight being the song that made Marley an international star, the much-misunderstood No Woman, No Cry.
Screaming Maldini – Screaming Maldini
More serendipity, more radio. An old friend from Yorkshire raved to me on the phone about a new band with an extraordinary name based in Sheffield who he had just seen live. A few hours later I was listening to Tom Robinson’s BBC 6 Music show, and Tom happened to play one of their tracks – Summer, Somewhere. And that was that. I loved Screaming Maldini. They only lasted for a few years, but their progressive pop was unique and brilliant: wonderful harmonies, insanely catchy riffs, and fiendishly complicated signatures - King Crimson meets Abba! Their only album is hard to find these days, but it’s worth it for the 3D artwork as well as the music.
The Mamas & The Papas – Best Of The Mamas & The Papas
It’s incredible how just a few chords or a line or two of lyrics can take you back in time so quickly and so powerfully. This album epitomises that for my wife and I, as we played it on repeat as we drifted around the Norfolk Broads on a narrowboat for a blissful week in midsummer on one of our first holidays together. Somehow, The Mamas & The Papas ‘60s vibe was the perfect accompaniment to our meandering around the Broads, and will always take us both back there instantly.
"lyrics can take you
back in time..."
Coldplay – Mylo Xyloto
An album that evokes another treasured family memory. My daughter is a big Coldplay fan, and although the UK leg of the Mylo Xyloto tour was sold out, I managed to get tickets to one of their gigs at The Emirates. We got there at 2pm when the doors opened to make sure we were at the front, and had an absolute blast. It’s fashionable to knock Coldplay, but ignore the critics: if you get the chance to see them live, take it – they really are very, very good.
Bio
Tim is a sports and esports business advisor, non executive director, writer and producer. He lives in Glastonbury and tweets as @shaymantim.
