Tis the season for dewdrop filled spider webs...

The Clash, ‘Complete Control’, 1978. The Clash were a great ‘singles’ band with good cover sleeves. This ditty is a rant against the record company, the Man, obstacles in the way, the usual. It has my fave Strummer line; ‘You’re my geetar hero!’, snarled at Mick Jones. A tight fierce blast with classic Clash guitar sound and Topper’s propulsive drums kicking like thunder (recorded in one take, that’s how good he was). The cover is of a pink painted amp that the Clash used onstage. It didn’t work but looked cool. Little details make the difference. The only band that mattered, still…

T.Rex, ‘Children of the Revolution’, 1972. A variation on the normal T.Rex sleeve. I remember being gutted when this single ‘only’ got to Number 2. You had to sell about 50,000 copies a week to get in the Top 10 in those days, so, I don’t suppose Marc was too upset. The song was used in the film ‘Born to boogie’ directed by Marc’s bezzie new mate Ringo ‘I was in the Beatles’ Starr. The film was a nonsense but it’s Bolan in his prime, so we didn’t care. He had a Roll’s Royce coz it was good for his voice…

Young Marble Giants, ‘Testcard EP’, 1980. Six instrumentals in praise of mid-morning television. Back in the day, daytime TV just had the testcard and weird library music. This EP by the Giants tunes into the power of Easy listening. Strange pop…

The Cure, ‘A Forest’, 1980. The Cure were a great singles band. Despite this I was never a big fan – too much Gothic dirge and Poor Me miserabilism and the album ‘Pornography’ is unlistenable. Plus, they were the most boring band I’ve ever seen live. Sorry, it’s true. This tune is a corker though. Moody atmosphere and sound with flanged guitars, eerie synth, crisp drums and bobbling bass. They were from Croydon, not the hippest place on the planet, which makes the creativity here seem even more unworldly…

Anita Ward, ‘Ring My Bell’, 1979. I was never a disco fan, but this tune stands out from the crowd with ‘boo-boo’ synth drums, slinky groove and Anita’s cool vocals. Choon!

Sex Pistols, ‘God Save the Queen’, 1977. I went to three different record shops when this came out before finding one that sold it with the picture sleeve. I hadn’t even heard it, just heard about it. A classic. The cover alone. Gamechanger….

Ian Dury & The Blockheads, ‘Sweet Gene Vincent’, 1977. Stiff Records. Along with ‘Sex & Drugs & Rock n Roll’, my fave Ian Dury tune. A heartfelt homage to Gene Vincent and Fifties rock n roll. Great lyrics, great tune, great production.

The Ramones. The debut album. 1976. Say it again – 1976. Wings, ELO, Queen and their ilk stalked the airwaves back then. And then… da Brudders! From Noo Yoik. Wuntoofreefaw! Immortals. Except everybody on the album cover is now dead. Live fast, die young. Hard to believe that a leather jacket used to scare tha bejeezus out of people. The Ramones might be a one-trick pony, but what a trick. Fast downstroke guitar riffs, big splash cymbals, one note bass, caveman drums, handclaps when necessary, Joey’s ’singing’ and ‘dumb’ lyrics about gluesniffing, going into the basement, chain saws, turning tricks on 53rd and 3rd, beating on brats, blitzkrieg bops. All songs done in usually under two minutes. To be this dumb, especially in 1976, was a stroke of brilliance. Ever heard ‘Tales From Topographic Oceans’? I mean, really…

The Ramones loved simple rocknroll and Sixties pop. They played fast power pop punk with a dribbling smile and a sneer. Every punk band in England saw them play the Roundhouse in 1976. Gamechanger. The world would’ve been very different without them. If you haven’t heard them for a while, slap this on, crank it up and jump around. Hey-ho, let’s go.

Small Faces, ‘Whatcha Gonna Do About It’, 1965. The debut single. Good start to a career. Strutting soul groove with Hammond keyboard and freakbeat guitar. Tidy.

Lee Dorsey, ‘Working in The Coal Mine’, 1966. Soul music from Nawlins. Lee was childhood mates with Fats Domino of that parish. Written and produced by pianist Allen Toussaint, also of that parish. Backing from local band The Meters who pretty much invented funk. A smooth, cool, steady groove that made the Top Ten. The Clash took him out on tour with them in later years.

Miles Davis, ‘Kind of Blue’, 1959. Jazz. Nice. The preserve of weirdos and Geography teachers, obvs. In the canon though are gems that transcend genre and boxes. This album is one of them. If you had to own just one Jazz LP, man, then this is it. I bought a copy as a student: part of my wider education. It was name-checked so much in the pages of the NME and elsewhere that it needed to be heard. If you think you’ve never heard it, it’s like classical music – you might not know the name, but you’ll have heard it. Or, at least, a copy of something like it. It’s ur-Jazz: influential and still a touchstone over 60 years later. Even the cover is legendary. Clean, uncluttered, Miles lost in music.

Five tunes recorded over two sessions with a super slick simpatico band, each track largely improvised and done as one take. Davis gave the players ‘sketches’ and told them to play what they feel. Opening track, ‘So What’, is the touchstone. ‘All Blues’ fulfils the Platonic Conception of a Jazz instrumental. Cool, daddio. This is a smooth, loose but tight collection and, sonically, they sound great. Everything gels but not in a hard, be-bop, in-yer-face way. Rippling piano, brushed drums, fluid bass notes, muted horns. And John Coltrane on sax, the other Jazz guy that everyone’s heard of. If aliens ever land, we should play them this, along with a bit of Bach, to prove we’re not savages but evolved beings…

John Lennon, ‘Instant Karma’, 1970. A hit for Lennon while the Beatles were still officially a band. Produced by Phil Spector who used his full bag of tricks for a lush production. Shine on.

Sex Pistols, ‘Pretty Vacant’, 1977. Another classic. The sleeve by Jamie Reid still mesmerising. It’s hard to convey how big an impact the Pistols had at the time…

Dead Kennedys, ‘Nazi Punks F*ck Off’, 1981. Neo-Nazis had infiltrated the punk scene so Jello Biafra and his crew responded with this message, helping to kickstart the Anti-Nazi movement in the US. A 120mph blast of riffage lasting 1 minute and 3 seconds with a chorus that is hard not to enjoy. Plastic sleeve with lyrics printed on (which help make out what’s going on) and a free armband with a crossed-out swastika. What’s not to like?

AC/DC, ‘Back in Black, 1980. None. None more black…

#lockdown #vinyl #albumcover #webilicious #classicalbum #mojo

Frank Sinatra, ‘Strangers in the Night’, 1966. A Grammy-winning platinum seller. Frank set up the Reprise label so he could release the music he wanted to release. He was right. Nelson Riddle leading the orchestra. The title track alone a stone-cold classic. An album that’s smooth and easy or big and swinging, with Hammond B3 organ too and occasional guitar from Glen Campbell. With Frank it’s all about the phrasing. It’s difficult to sing along with Frank. Try it and you’ll find it nigh impossible to follow him note for note. And yet he makes it sound as easy as breathing. Shoo-be-doo be-doo…

The Jam, ‘Pop Art Poem’, 1981. This was a freebie given away with ‘Flexipop’ magazine, which was like a ‘Smash Hits’ for Indy kids. Remember there were no CDs or downloads, so you needed to buy vinyl to hear tunes or listen to the limited radio offerings. Flexi discs were a cheap solution and a way of adding value for fans. Lyntone were the Kings of the market, producing millions of flexi discs over the decades. Clients included The Beatles. Lytone could do small production runs so their discs didn’t break the bank. The Jam got to be a bit Arty with something that would have cost lots of money on normal vinyl. A poem set to ‘experimental’ music from the band. It’s not ‘Eton Rifles’ but an interesting enough curio.

The Stranglers. 1977. A 4-track EP for the US market. Two songs from the first album, one from the second, and a B side. Good tunes too. ‘Hanging Around’ is worthy of any collection. Heavy, unsmiling cover. Great logo. On sickly peach pink vinyl for added punkness.

David Bowie, ‘Sound & Vision’, 1977. RCA record company sleeve. Over 40 years old and it still sounds like NOW. I miss him…

The Clash, ‘Bankrobber’, 1980. Mixed by Mikey Dread who was the support act when I saw them on the 16 Tons tour. First live reggae I’d ever heard. Dread at the controls! The Clash did good reggae, considering they were skinny white guys. They’d probably be accused of cultural appropriation now. Better than The Police anyway. Great loping bass line on this one and skanking feel.

Rolling Stones, ‘Five By Five’ EP, 1964. In Mono. EP stood for Extended Play. Most kids could afford singles, but albums were well ‘spense. EPs were a halfway measure for fans, usually collecting singles, B-sides and album tracks to feed a need. This EP is perfect Sixties fodder. Five tracks by the Stones (of whom there were five, hence the name). The songs were recorded at the hallowed Chess Studios in Chicago, where all the Stones’ heroes had recorded: Muddy Waters; Chuck Berry; Bo Diddley etc.

A tight collection of Blues and Soul tunes from a bunch of lads who couldn’t believe their luck.

Cracking cover too. No name or title, just five longhaired yobs (which is how the mainstream saw them back then) staring at the camera. The anti-Beatles. Would you let your daughter marry a Rolling Stone?

Laurie Anderson, O Superman’, 1981. Still the weirdest UK hit single ever, reaching Number 2 after being championed by John Peel. 8 minutes of Anderson’s wry vocal over electronics and slow sad chords. In the video she uses sign language. Reader, I liked it so much I bought the album…

Cabaret Voltaire, ‘Nag Nag Nag’, 1979. A student fave and still a fierce blast of post-punk electro energy. It came from Sheffield, which also produced Heaven 17 and The Human League. Early cheap synths had hit the market and kids in the rainy North spent time in bedrooms making their own sound, creating their own world on a budget.

This isn’t electro pop. It’s a darker beast that still pummels like Led Zeppelin. Turn it up, rip off the knob!

The Fall, ‘How I Wrote Elastic Man’, 1980. The Mighty Fall. It’s rock, Jim, but not as we know it. A great single with lyrics like;

“The Observer magazine just about sums him up

E.g. self-satisfied, smug”.

Raw, ragged, wired. A whole other world in those grooves. Check out ‘Fiery Jack’ from this period too.

Vinyl Distraction cont.

Lou Reed, ‘Walk on the Wild Side’, 1972. This song drew me in when I saw it in a film clip of Uncle Lou on ‘Top of the Pops’ in 1972. I didn’t know who it was, or what (it wasn’t Bolan, Slade etc. that was for sure), and it wasn’t until seeing Hot Gossip doing a dance routine to it on the ‘Kenny Everett Show’ five years later that I found out. From there I made the link to Bowie, Velvet Underground, John Cale, Nico etc. I ordered the single from Boots, Andover. You could do that in those days. Record companies would keep hits in the catalogue, and you could order them. So, this is my copy, after the event, although I notice my brother tried to claim it by adding an extra stroke to my initial. Cheeky sod.

Bob Dylan. ‘Time Out of Mind’, 1997. The album that saved El Zimmo. Bob had been drifting for a decade or so, playing gigs with diminishing returns. A near fatal illness kicked him into shape. This album is intense, focused, real. Daniel Lanois, who’d worked with U2 and Eno, played on, and produced, this set of songs. It sounds live and stripped back with Bob’s voice up front, close and personal. OK, his sandpaper-and-glue voice hurts some ears, but on this album, it adds depth and ballast. This is a 57-year-old man who’s done stuff. He sounds like an old Bluesman, not some mincing Jagger, on a great sounding record. The production and atmosphere created make this one of Dylan’s best albums.

‘Love Sick’ is slow with an almost reggae lurch to it. Like most of the album, it’s all about the words. Stories whispered in your ear. This one’s about love and regret. ‘Dirt Road Blues’ is a blues shuffle with keyboard and echo on the voice. Done got old but can still tap a toe. ‘Standing In The Door’ is slow and weary with gentle guitar and Bob reminiscing again. The past has always been close behind for our Bob. This tune makes it more melancholy than usual. ‘Million Miles’ is slow, bluesy shuffle with organ chords, slow tap cymbals and guitar breaks. ‘Trying To Get to Heaven’ another tale of regrets and heartbreak and sighs. ‘Til I Fell in Love With You’ a slow blues with stinging guitar and regrets. ‘Not Dark Yet’ slow, sombre, soft drums, gorgeous guitar on a beautiful tune. Bob facing Death. It’ll give you chills. ‘Cold Irons Bound’ eerie slide and bass, echo and dread, tight licks and swinging drums. ‘Make You Feel My Love’ a love song with piano on a pretty melody. ‘Can’t Wait’ a ‘Nawlins style groove. ‘Highlands’ slide guitar drifting after hours.

I could listen to this album as an audiobook, without the music: just Bob’s voice leading me through his tales of Life. A classic.

The Doors, man. It was a toss up between their debut album and their last, ‘LA Woman’. Actually, it wasn’t. The Doors are a bit like The Stranglers: something you should grow out of really (no offence and RIP Dave Greenfield). But ‘LA Woman’ still holds up, mainly because it’s shorn of all the psychedelic whimsy, bombast and bad poetry. It’s a great set of tight but loose, almost funky, songs. The lyrics are ‘normal’, none of the usual ‘weird scenes inside the goldmine’ nonsense. Back to basics.

The band kinda knew this was their last album and they had fun with it. They produced by themselves, playing live in a small studio, with a bassist to flesh it out (Jerry Scheff who went on to be part of Elvis’s TCB band). ‘The Changeling’ kicks it off with a drum beat before chugging rhythm swings in. Jim yelps before kicking in, setting the tone for his vocals on the album: gruff, loose, bluesy, Rawk! ‘Love Her Madly’ is swinging piano and drums, a great poppy tune. ‘Been Down so Long’ a straight beat 12 bar blues with slide guitar, Jim howling inna Blues style. ‘Cars Hiss By My Window’ is slooow Jimmy Reed 12 bar blues with brushed snares, Jim almost crooning, fluid picking by Robby Kreiger on axe. There are no histrionics apart from Jim impersonating a muted blues harp towards the end. Title track ‘LA Woman’ ending Side 1 is still perfection: a fast driving rhythm, the band locked. Jim was fat, bloated, bearded and apparently sang naked in darkness whilst recording vocals. It’s a great performance. His swansong.

Side 2 kicks off with ‘L’America’ with slowly picked guitar, then piano, then bass before picking up pace with military drums on a one chord almost Latin yomp before finally exploding into a boogie chug and back again. ‘Hyacinth House’ could almost be CSN&Y ballad with gorgeous organ. ‘Crawling King Snake’ is John Lee Hooker blues, Jim moaning over dirty guitar licks. ‘The Wasp’ is big chug guitar and big bass with Jim high in the mix, spoken word, the drums spitting and swinging. Slinky. ‘Riders on the Storm’ ends the whole thing. A masterclass in production, mood and atmospherics - the bass and Fender Rhodes piano alone making it special. The guitar patterns and shapes, beyond smooth. Jim’s voice calm and measured.

After recording, Jim went to Paris and died of an overdose. The songs on this album don’t sound like a man who’d given up.

The Psychedelic Furs, debut album, 1980. This was before ‘Pretty in Pink’ and relative pop stardom. Punk pop with a large dollop of early Goth and psychedelia, obvs. A band who grew up listening to the Velvet Underground and all that good stuff. Richard Butler on vocals with a nasty sneer. Big drums, big bass, big guitars, smoothed out with keyboards.

‘India’ comes in with two minutes of minor-key keyboard chords before drums and bass kick in and four minutes of riffage. Good start. ‘Sister Europe’ big slow echo drenched bass and drums with dirty sax on a moody groove. ‘Imitation of Christ’ jangly guitar and sax blast with a great chorus. ‘Fall’ almost Stax horns if it weren’t for the chopped guitar and Glitter band drum stomp. ‘Pulse’ pounding bass driven with solid riff and Velvets drums and Butler’s whine. ‘We Love You’ is pure Velvets, nicking the riff to ‘Waiting For the Man’, with a long list of things Butler loves. ‘Wedding Song’ funky drummer, almost, keyboard wash and Arabic sax. And Butler’s whine making this deeply unromantic. ‘Blacks/Radio’ another riff with sax and noise and general relentless Riffage. ‘Flowers’ another banger.

So, a riff fest dipped in something unsavoury. Fun!

Performance’, Original Soundtrack, 1970. I love this film directed by Nic Roeg. Starring James Fox and Mick Jagger, it was shot in 1968 when the Stones were at the height of meaningful Satanic Majesty-ness. The film was delayed until 1970 because Warner Brothers hated it. Famously at a pre-screening an Executive’s wife threw up, so soiled and nasty were the images on screen.

There have been umpteen books written about the film and lots of tales, which I won’t bother to go into here. Oh alright, just one. Co-star James Fox had a breakdown after filming, left acting and became a Christian missionary for 10 years. Suffice to say it’s one of the best British films of the Sixties or any decade. It captures the zeitgeist better than anything else from that period. The ultimate sex, drugs, rock n roll experience.

The soundtrack works on its own. Some rockers like ‘Gone Dead Train, moody atmospheric slide guitar by Ry Cooder on ‘Powis Square’, jaw harp, tablas and sitar on ‘The Hashishin’, eerie early synth drones, scary vocals from Merry Clayton (who sang on the Stones’ ‘Gimme Shelter’), trippy flute and strings on Jack Nitzche produced tracks, a lush MOR instrumental in ‘Harry Flowers’, proto-rap in The Last Poets ‘Wake Up, Niggers’ and a solo Jagger tune in ‘Memo to Turner’. This is not ‘The Sound of Music’…

If you’ve never seen the film, do.

Vinyl Distraction Pt.94...

Sarah Vaughan EP, 1964. This was a cheapo reissue of a 1955 EP, feeding a market hit by the Beat Boom. Classic jazzers were suddenly old hat but their main audience didn’t have the disposable income of those pesky teenagers. Sarah Vaughan is timeless though. A rich velvety voice that can go deep baritone up to a high C. No Autotune needed. It’s her and Ella Fitzgerald really in the Jazz Diva vocal stakes. She had proper jazz chops too, playing with people like Miles Davis and Dizzy Gillespie. Every home should have some of this singer…

Bob Dylan. I love Bob, me. ‘Blonde on Blonde’ and ‘Highway 61 Revisited’ from his ‘60s output are worthy of repeated visits. OK, that voice puts a lot of people off, but the melodies and words make it worth the effort. ‘Blood on the Tracks’ is the masterpiece, the one I’d take to the island.

They say that when men hit 33, they have their ‘Christ phase’. That’s the age Jesus died. Men question what it’s all about and attempt to do something meaningful, worthwhile, mature. Bob was 33, divorced, the Sixties well and truly over, Vietnam still dragging on, Watergate crushing any remaining illusion that America was land of the free, home of the brave. So, Bob comes up with his greatest set of ‘story’ songs. Songs of love, loss, growing old. Great lyrics and some of his best ever tunes.

‘Tangled Up in Blue’ kicks it off. This song alone makes it all worthwhile. ‘Simple Twist of Fate’ slows it down with gentle strum and light touch. ‘You’re a Big Girl’ with gorgeous picking and yearning vocal. ‘Idiot Wind’ with swirling organ and maliciously funny put-down lyrics. ‘You’re Gonna Make me Lonesome When you Go’, slow bass and jangly guitar with happy-sad tune. ‘Meet me in the Morning’ lurching bluesily with weary picking and high hat. ‘If You See Her, Say Hello’, acoustic guitars and heartbreak. ‘Shelter from the Storm’ should be played at every wedding on the planet, by law. ‘Buckets of Rain’ ends the album with gorgeous guitar and bubbling bass sending us off with a smile on our faces.

An album for grown-ups, of all ages.

Funkadelic, ‘Funkadelic’, 1970. Debut album from George Clinton’s psychedelic funk band. Clinton had mainstream hits in the Seventies with the same players under the name Parliament. This was the out-there, acid-rock version, achieving total heaviosity, man. Seven extended jams drenched in echo with fuzzed guitar, wah-wah, wailing keyboards, deep bass, sloppy drums and Superfly lyrics; ‘nothing is good unless you play with it’ and ‘Soul is a ham hock in your cornflakes’. Tight but loose, up for the down stroke, on The One but acid-fried and dark. Sure ain’t The Jackson Five…

“Doo Pah Poo Ooh: Early Sixties Soul 1960-1965”, 1980. One of many compilations put out by Capitol in the 80s; an easy way to exploit the back catalogue and make available lost tracks to a new audience. People like me learned a lot, not least because of the sleeve notes. Obscure deep cuts by Aaron Neville, Ike & Tina Turner, The O’Jays, Irma Thomas and lesser known names like Leon Hayward and Barbara George. A time machine lovingly compiled.

Siouxsie & The Banshees, ‘The Scream’, 1978. The debut album. Post-punk before that was even a thing. ‘Pure’ sets the mood. Echo, sparse drums, Siouxsie’s banshee wail. ‘Jigsaw Feeling’ pounding tribal drums and metal guitar riff with Siouxsie swooping down. ‘Overground’ slow slashing guitar with rolling toms and rat-a-tat. ‘Carcass’ riff and stomp. ‘Helter Skelter’ starts slow with single bass note before exploding with fierce guitar. The Beatles ripped apart. ‘Mirage’ phased guitar and acoustic chug with solid drum pound. ‘Metal Postcard’ like a demented Kurt Weill tune with more slashing guitar. ‘Nicotine Stain’ another grinding riff. ‘Suburban Relapse’ intense riffing, thunder drums, and saxophone for added room-clearing dissonance. ‘Switch’ starts slow, building up then dropping away before returning, the guitar distorted, loud and proud.

Not an easy listen but Siouxsie’s voice and the overall noise still sounds unique. Indeed, you can hear elements of this album in pretty much every post-punk, alt-rock band ever since. It’s amazing they ended up effectively becoming a pop band, having hits, appearing on ‘Top of the Pops’ and the pages of ‘Smash Hits’…

Isaac Hayes, ‘Hot Buttered Soul’, 1969. A classic. Four tunes. Extended grooves. The Bar-Kays providing the rhythm. Strings and horns add sophisticated lushness. Hayes was the main producer at Stax records so knew how to record music. By 1969 the world had gotten heavy, man. This isn’t Otis-Redding-in-a-suit fare. It’s Soul, baby, but funky and trippy. Hayes had complete control over the project, playing Hammond organ and singing live. ‘Walk On By’ is slow and bluesy with rock guitar lines, transforming the original over 12 minutes of slinkiness. ‘Hyperbolicsyllabicsesquedalymistic’ channels wah-wah and coming on strong like a Funkadelic sex machine. I always think of Huggy Bear in ‘Starsky & Hutch’. ‘One Woman’ is slow balladry with piano and Hayes’ deep baritone dripping honey-sweet with lurve. The main event is ‘By The Time I Get to Phoenix’. 19 minutes of slow brooding atmosphere. The first eight minutes is Isaac talking and telling a tale of love and a broken heart over a Hammond drone. Then the song floats in, building slowly, gradually rising and rising before eventually fading away with a single Hammond chord. Intense.

‘New Wave’, 1977. Real-time Punk compilation album. New Wave was the Marketing Department’s rebrand of those pesky punks. Thus, anything a bit guitary or non-mainstream got a look in. So, pub-rockers like Little Bob Story and older acts like the Flamin’ Groovies are here. The Boomtown Rats make an appearance with ‘Looking After No 1’, which was a Top 20 hit and helped the album sell. But, you know, it’s the Boomtown Rats. Anyway, a couple from the Ramones, Patti Smith’s ‘Piss Factory’, New York Dolls ‘Personality Crisis’, Dead Boys ‘Sonic Reducer’, a Talking Heads track, and the Damned’s ‘New Rose’ (the first ever Punk single) made this album a bargain. Edgy beer-spitting punk on the cover raised questions in the Houses of Parliament, probably…

New York Dolls, ‘New York Dolls’, 1973. Sex, drugs, rock n roll from Noo Yoik! The debut album that sold zilch but, like the Stooges, MC5 and Velvet Underground, helped influence Punk and saved the world. Guitarist Sylvain Sylvain just died, making singer David Johansen the only member left alive. They looked like Glam Rock transvestites who grew up with proper rock n roll, (like Bo Diddley, whose ‘Pills’ they cover here). Their mission was to make rock sexy and fun again in the face of 20-minute Prog piano solos. They succeeded, not least because they had Johnny Thunders on guitar. (Was there ever a cooler name for a guitar player?) Just the band name and cover got them banned.

Big dumb chords, slashing guitars, riffs, tight but sloppy drums, Cro-Magnon bass, dazed ballads, slouching sax, louche vocals and yelps, hand claps even. Sleazy trash-junky fun. Famously described as ‘mock rock’ they were 4 Real. ‘Jet Boy’ alone secures their place in the Book of Rock. Play LOUD!

The Cars, ‘My Best Friend’s Girl’, 1978. The first picture disc single in the UK, which helped get this to Number 3 in the UK charts. The Cars were power-pop and benefited from punk and New Wave making ‘edgy’ guitars cool. Drummer David Robinson had played with the original Modern Lovers and knew a thing about a tight, chugging pop riff. Clean, crisp, tight and snappy. Cheesy keyboard. Fab lead guitar break. Hand claps. It’s Pop music!

Marianne Faithfull, ‘Broken English’, 1979. Her masterpiece. Marianne had a cool Sixties, being Mick Jagger’s girlfriend and all. The Seventies were grim. Drug addiction and homelessness. Her voice became cracked and raspy. This album brought her back from the dead, literally and metaphorically. A varied collection of songs with new wave guitar and Stevie Winwood on keyboards. ‘Broken English’ a grinding chug. ‘Witches’ Song’ melancholy acoustic strum, Faithfull’s voice broken and sad. ‘Brain Drain’ slow and bluesy and pulsing. ‘Guilt’ squeasy unease over atmospheric keyboards. ‘The Ballad of Lucy Jordan’ – Faithfull makes the tale of suburban disillusionment her own. ‘What’s The Hurry?’ a solid chug with drones and Faithfull’s voice rattling over it. ‘Working Class Hero’ moody percussion and bass, almost Floydian, with bursts of guitar. Good version. ‘Why’d Ya Do It’ reggae-fied with rude words as Marianne channels Grace Jones and slags a lover. Choon! Marianne Faithfull: imperious and haughty but vulnerable too. She talked it like she walked it.

Siouxsie & The Banshees, ‘Hong Kong Garden’, 1978. The debut single. Written about Siouxsie’s local Chinese restaurant routinely visited by racist skinheads. Post-punk noise with xylophone, tribal drums, one finger bass lines, chopping guitar riff and Siouxsie’s swooping voice. A classic. It cracked the Top 10 and, along with The Cure, invented Goth. To be honest I don’t think they ever bettered it.

Them, ‘Here Comes the Night’, 1965. Van Morrison, the Belfast Cowboy, waaay before he really started upsetting people. Them were Ulster’s answer to the Pretty Things: an ugly blues band who morphed into Sixties grooviness. Great tune, in “true high fidelity”, later covered by Bowie. Lovely design on the Decca sleeves and label with the original logo (before they put it in a box). Yes, I’m an anorak. Decca was also home to the Rolling Stones and, after EMI, was the biggest UK label.

‘Rockabilly Psychosis & the Garage Disease’, 1984. Compilation album from Big Beat Records, cashing in on the rockabilly craze of the day led by bands like the Meteors. An alternative to New Romantic nonsense. I loved this stuff. It has modern bands like the aforementioned Meteors, Guana Batz, Gun Club and the Cramps, all doing their take on Fifties rock n roll, rockabilly, garage band psychedelia. What sold it to me was original versions of songs that I’d only heard as cover versions. The Sonics ‘Psycho’, The Phantom ‘Love Me’, The Trashmen ‘Surfin’ Bird’, Hasil Adkins ‘She Said’ - classics all. I mean, Screamin’! To seal the deal, The Legendary Stardust Cowboy and ‘Paralysed’, an influence on Bowie and where Ziggy got his surname. Truly one of the most demented songs ever committed to vinyl…

Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers, ‘American Girl’, 1977. The only Tom Petty record I ever bought, and his first UK hit. New wave-ish riff and strut fused with Springsteen. Hand claps and harmonies. Clean guitar licks. With funky middle section breakdown. A slick, tight little gem.

Jimi Hendrix Experience, ‘Are You Experienced?’, 1967. The Summer of Love, Sgt Pepper’s, and this debut album. It’s hard for us now to realise just how big an impact Hendrix made back then. Beyond the myth and legend, which doesn’t need telling here, there’s the music. Hendrix had the chops but loved what the studio could do. This album is a Sixties classic that still holds up.

I’ve gone for the US release of this album as it includes singles that flopped in the US first time around: ‘Purple Haze’, ‘Hey Joe’, ‘The Wind Cries Mary’. Flops? Can you imagine? Stone cold classics each. ‘Wind Cries Mary’ is a lovely ballad, demonstrating Jimi wasn’t all sturm und drang guitar attack. ‘Manic Depression’ blasts away in waltz time. ‘May This Be Love’ is gentle and fluid. ‘Third Stone From the Sun’ is rippling and jazzy and atmospheric with a great riff and guitar break. It’s about planet Earth, man. ‘Foxy Lady’ is just a great dirty riff and electricity. ‘Fire’ is a solid, funky, fast danceable blaze of a tune. ‘I Don’t Live Today’ another riff. ‘Are You Experienced’ sounds like Vietnam with chiming piano, backwards guitar, trippy lyrics and guitar.

For a trio, the Experience made a big sound. Mitch Mitchell’s drumming swings from jazzy to straight balls-out rockin’. Noel on bass keeps things locked. Hendrix never liked the sound of his own voice, but I’ve always liked it. It’s Hendrix on guitar that makes it all special though, obvs. It’s an extension of him, notes and chords tumbling out as easy as breathing. He looked cool too. Legend.

David Bowie, ‘Ashes to Ashes’, 1980. Bowie’s last truly great single IMHO. It came in three different sleeves (with a sheet of stamps of the Dame in full clown outfit), the Marketing department prepared to spend money to guarantee a hit, which it was. Bowie was still relatively underground. The song hardly dented the Top 100 in the US but went to Number 1 here. After ‘Let’s Dance in 1983, Bowie went enormo huge and shifted platinum figures, but the tunes weren’t as good. As he himself said; “Shit sells”…

Killing Joke, ‘What’s THIS For…!, 1981. Rampaging wardance tunes but with an almost funky feel amongst the tribal drums, enormo-bass and slashing guitar chords. Guaranteed to clear a room. T’Joke were one of the angriest bands in the Thatcher-era, which was stacked with angry bands. Think Crass with better tunes. ‘Tension’ is the standout track for me. Pummelling.