It´s Saturday morning and the girls are away at Choir practise with Auntie Choir leader. The cats are missing in action again , but will no doubt return to the sound of a rattling food dish. My last post involved the plugging in of various cables labelled ´relationships´ into various boxes in my cerebral store-room. But there is still a mess of tangled leads on my floor requiring unpicking, unravelling and straightening out. There is music playing in the background as I write, something old, something new , something borrowed, and something blue. A lot of blue , if truth be told. Music has always formed the backdrop to my life´s story , sometimes the same music seen at different times from different perspectives. If I ask myself the question ´´which pieces have been constant companions?`` I get some interesting answers.
The earliest memory I have of an ``ear worm´´ is curiously something by Doris Day. My mother was also called Doris, but disliked the name, insisting on ´Dee´ instead. Anyway, back to the singing Doris. My brother Michael had an old record player when I was a child, and certain LPs were often to be found spinning on his turntable. Hank Marvin´s Shadows were one such, as were extracts from various musicals. One much re-played musical album was ``Calamity Jane``, and this particular song sticks in my head, to this day. Or Day...
As well as the record player, we also had a big old valve operated radio set on which , at night time, you could pick up all sorts of exotic radio stations from far away places. The bakelite front panel was covered with exciting sounding names such as Luxembourg, Budapest, Moscow and Lisbon, in addition to the regular ´home and light` services. These were the days before the BBC simply numbered their stations 1, 2 and 3: something I have always thought rather un-imaginative.
Certain songs remain in my mind because I can remember exactly where I was when I first heard them. In my head, these particular cables are marked important´in red lettering. I am not always entirely sure why this should be , but it is. And the memory usually conjures up the image of this old radio of ours, which sat in the corner of the living room , with its French doors leading out into the garden at the back of the house. The next song is one such memory and also involved the garden, as I can recall that the doors were open to a warm August day when I first heard this drifting out of the speakers. the summery chords and slightly odd middle bit fascinated the young me.
Fast forwarding a little, under my pillow at night was hidden a tiny transistor radio, a Christmas present when I was 12 or 13 years old. The radio , though possessed of a rather tinny sound, was my link with the wonderful world of Radio Luxembourg...And a song which really stays with me to this day from that period is this one. My first encounter with the Starman himself.
As usual whilst rummaging in my brain cupboard , untangling cables often involves jumping time tracks and suddenly finding things which relate to my past and my present simultaneously. The next piece is one such example. I´ve always been a fan of Thomas Dolby, since the days of ``The Golden Age of Wireless``.Most know him as a kind of ``mad scientist`` type and one-hit wonder, from the 1980´s . But what interest me about him is his great song writing ability. He also occasionally comes up with a lyric which has considerable depth... he seems to be in a constant battle between how he is ´´seen´´ ( pseudo-intellectual musical boffin) and how he actually ´´is´´ ( very talented, sensitive and poetic ). The song ´Oceania´ is quite recent and is a lovely tune about finally discovering where home really is… I think it is beautiful, in its Dolby-esque way. The lady, singing in the last part of the song is Eddie Reader.
And you are free...You´re soaring on a thermal wind....You´re learning how to shed your skin ...You made it home to Oceania....
The concept of home is a big question for me, especially in these days of Post Brexit Englishness
( and other ´leave´ related events on my timeline...) . Trust and Home , if truth be told.
Just the other day, I was talking to an english student of mine who had an amazing story to tell. She had met and fallen in love with a guy some 20 years ago, but nothing had happened. In the meantime she had been married, then divorced, and had moved home 21 times ! Two months ago, a knock came on her door and a man stood there saying he was interested in the car she had for sale parked outside her house. He lived quite a long way away, in Waldviertel.
After a while she realised it was the He, from 20 years before.
They are now together, and she told me she will soon make her 22nd move. She explained to me that she had felt inexplicably homesick for ages before this fateful meeting. Homesick for a place which she could not give a name. So, I gave her a link to this song. It´s by the Kings of Convenience, a pair who are a kind of Scandinavian take on Simon and Garfunkle… Its called ``Homesick``. It´s a lovely song.
And it´s for all of us.
``A song for Someone
who needs Somewhere
to long for...``
Between 1992 and 1999 I happened to meet two very public female figures, one in a formal setting , the other by accident. The first was HRH The Queen , who I was introduced to at the opening of a National Trust house I had been working on as an architect. The anticipation was highly stressful, but when she finally appeared she was so charming and relaxed that all fears vanished. The second meeting was equally extraordinary. One evening I was enjoying a drink in a favourite East London music venue called the Spitz when , walking down a staircase and turning round , I found myself literally face-to-face with the wonderful Icelandic singer, Bjork. I had been a fan for years, and this was such a surprise. I introduced myself and said that I loved her work and she shook my hand and we chatted for a bit. She has such an ´emotional aura´ around her it is quite incredible. Such a little person , with so much power. And I´ll let you guess which of these two ladies made the biggest and most lasting impression on me...
This is Bjork, with my favourite song of hers. It´s about the light and dark in everyone, and it´s a truly great piece of work.
``I go through all this, before you wake up, so I can feel happier, safe up there with you...``
I will never forget that moment, on that staircase, with Mrs Icelandic Thunder herself, Bjork Gudmundsdottir, as long as I live.
Here´s another more recent tune, by the group Imagine Dragons. I don't go for the music too much in this case. But the lyric though. The words are truly inspiring. It´s all about dreaming big and moving forward. The things and ´normal people´ that have held us back being drowned out in the end by the crash of thunder, preceded by the lightening of real potential, ultimately fully realised. We should all be striving to be out of sync with normality as prescribed by others , by authority. To be strange. To be ourselves as we truly, and wonderfully, are.
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