’25 albums that changed your life’, a list pastime that occurred on popular social networking site Facebook a few years ago when I was still on it. Self-explanatory, really. I thought it would be a good blog project (‘5×5’)to expand on them and add some personal, cultural context to each one on the list, rather than just throw out a sequence of signifiers.

“King Crimson, Kraftwerk and Kula Shaker?”

How thoroughly depressing. I never liked King Crimson. Here is the full sequence:

1. Bruce Springsteen & the E Street Band – Born in the USA
2. Status Quo – 12 Gold Bars (Vol 1)
3. Simon & Garfunkel – Greatest hits
4. Beastie Boys – Licensed to ill
5. Meatloaf – Bat out of hell

Yet having dashed off the first five – bosh, lunchy – I then became increasingly concerned to communicate something – oh puh-lease – about them, rather than what seemed to me mere impressionistic tossings. The next few – DKs excepted – are full double album sprawls of memory trawl.

6. Paul Simon – Graceland
7. Guns & Roses – Appetite for destruction
8. Iron Maiden – Powerslave
iron-maiden-powerarse (My most viewed post ever! The astonishing powers of inserting a humongous image.)
9. Jimi Hendrix Experience – Live at Winterland
10. Dead Kennedys – Fresh fruit for rotting vegetables

And, as for numbers 6 and 7, a panting cosmos awaits the remainder.
11. Nirvana – Nevermind
12. Shawn Colvin – Fat City
13. The Stone Roses
14. Jellyfish – Bellybutton
15. Neil Young – Decade
16. The Wedding Present – Watusi
17. Pixies – Surfer Rosa/come on pilgrim
18. Belle & Sebastian – Tigermilk
19. Upsetters – Eastwood rides again
20. The Who – The kids are alright
21. Guided by Voices – Alien Lanes
22. Bob Dylan – Bringing it all back home
23. LCD Soundsystem – Sound of silver
24. Count Basie Orchestra & Jimmy Rushing – Blues I love to sing
25. MGMT – Oracular Spectacular

I think you’ll find there’re some solid gold easy action classics on that list… but that’s just my ears. You’d be better fixed just going and getting the albums, TBH. At some point, it might be construed as a threat to assure you, the full nonsensical joy of the ’25 Albums That Changed Your Life Deluxe Edition Box Set’ will be complete. Doubtless it will run to 37 albums, such is the wont of the continuing vogue for super-completism.

“C’mon, c’mon, space to fill, content to create. Pick that up off the floor and give it a wipe, stick it on the special edition. It’s WHAT THEY WOULD HAVE WANTED.’

Is it though, is it? Is it?

Anyway. More recently, I began another bloggy project – ‘got a tape…’, a dredge through a large box of cassettes, a paddle-with-net in the rockpool of nostalgia.

The first tape to hand was in fact number 8, Jimi Hendrix.

live-at-winterland-tape

Sort of synchronicitously, there was this documentary about him on BBC4 or something, Hear My Train A Comin’, which at time of writing has 17 days left on the iPlayer, and is well worth 90 minutes of your life. So in total, 180 minutes of my life was spent getting all Jimi’d up the other night. I had the tape playing through a little pair of Saisho speakers, for the optimal trebly hiss of youth ambience.

BUT! Lordy, how good this tape still sounds.

As previously mentioned, the live album is fierce in places, 90-miles-an-hour versions of hits bookending some spacey explorations and kit skills from the Experience. There are some choice bits of spoken Jimi too, and I’d forgotten the intro music was Procol Harum’s ‘Whiter Shade of Pale’, which sets a late 1960s vibe shimmering nicely.

live-at-winterland-tape-tracks

Ah, Tippex. I forget also what terrible cheap vinyl knockoff the remaining tracks were sourced from, but I do love a 90-miles-an-hour drive through Johnny B. Goode. The version of Machine Gun is quite standout.

There we go then: ‘got a tape’ and ‘5×5’ projects continued, Dr Who anniversary extras cued up to watch, oven on. Bosh, lunchy.

Having received a cassette tape of 7″ singles through the post recently (“You got a what of what through the what?” – The Youth), I decided to set myself one of those implausible, fiddly personal projects that some people pitch to publishers and get paid money for.

You know the sort of thing: Are You Dave Gorman?, Yes Man, Playing the Moldovans at Tennis, Round Ireland with a Fridge, Six Stickers, Flipping a World Record Stack of Beermats with Half-arsed Ideas for Travelogue Pot Boilers Written On, etc.

Flipping fiddling! Here’s a cassette box:

cassette-box

It’s chock full of tapes that I’ve never quite brought myself round to getting rid of. I hold on to them because… well, I’m of that age, y’know?

“I remember when all this were stuff you could hold, look at, skin up on, not just carry on a chip on your phone,” sort of grumbly dad dude duding thing. While I dig a great many innovations of the digital now, you can’t walk into a room full of mp3s and ebooks. Not yet, anyway, and I expect it won’t be the same when we can, somehow.

Additionally, I have a bit of an e-bee in the virtual bonnet about a culture that thinks it’s OK for people’s record collections to consist of 130 folders with a single track in each. (Without problematising the matter by questioning the notion of “record collections”, obvs). The devil take them, and your stereo.

drmiskillingmusic

I’m of that age. Nostalgia… I was born and mostly grew up in the 20th century, where we had hopes for the tabula rasa of the 21st. Well, I did. Look what they’ve done to my dream, as Freddie Mercury once implored. This century currently frequently gives me a headache with its shallowness. Faux personal contact touchscreen ‘likes’, bland entreaties to ‘join the debate on twitter’, po-mo e-capitalism gone berserk, a blithe continuing acceptance of perpetual war and the arms trade…

Perhaps it is a headache from unvented fuming. >kaff!<

Yeah, yeah, and they were saying all this in 1913 as well, I’m sure, and 1813, and so on. Looking through the tapes, it becomes clear that, far more than semi-articulated vaguely socio-political motivations, it is basic personal attachment. I am hoarding ageing media because many of them were gifted compilations. The mix tape was a thing of beauty fair. This box contains examples from friends, family, former lovers…

cassettes-closer

Here are tapes as intriguing time capsules, telling stories with music and pictures about simple (and not-so-simple) lives intertwining. [beat] As well as being relics to sustain a sentimental soul as the world gallops forth.

Thus, in short, do I commit to working my way through said box of cassette tapes, sharing what goodies and possible baddies I might find therein!

But first, this: