rhythmaning | I Wanna Be Adored

Late night parties in the Bedlam in Edinburgh always featured the Passenger (Iggy Pop), as well as Shipbuilding again.

Simple Minds played a cracking gig at Edinburgh’s Coasters, a roller-disco that hosted serious bands at night; they were playing New Gold Dream. Another gig at Coasters was Lloyd Cole & the Commotions: before Rattlesnakes was released, but they played it all, wonderful pop music.

The record to change my life: I bought A Love Supreme cheap, in a sale in a record shop down the Royal Mile. Playing it was a revelation: suddenly modern jazz seemed to make sense. (Do I really need to say that it was by John Coltrane? No, I didn’t think so.)

I played the Waterboys’ In A Pagan Place incessantly whilst driving around the Scottish Highlands; the big sound suited the bleak, barren beauty of the landscape of the far north.

Travelling to New Caledonia, two tunes stuck in my mind: Charlotte Street by Lloyd Cole & the Commotions, and East of Eden by Big Country. I climbed Mt Dzumac, chanting the theme and the drum break in Charlotte St. (New Caledonia had a revolt whilst I was there; it is one of the three places in the world where I have had guns pointed at me.)

The Waterboys’ the Whole of the Moon makes me think of an brief, passionate and fun affair I had; and Jewel/Duel (Propaganda) is the tune I used to walk to, hurrying to her flat across the Meadows. Which was all a bit stupid really, since I was in a relationship with someone else at the time.

So when the main relationship came to its inevitable end, I consoled myself with the Commotions’ Easy Pieces and the Jesus & Mary Chain’s surf-punk Psychocandy. I can’t listen to Easy Pieces – it is a very blue record, lacking the uplifting spirit of Rattlesnakes. Psychocandy, however, is timeless.

In April 1988, I was visiting a friend in New York (why does D have no song of her own?); listening to one of the jazz stations, they mentioned Gil Evans’ memorial service at the jazz chapel on 52nd St. Porgy and Bess was the only work of Evans’ I knew; I went along to the church anyhow – mostly hoping to catch a glimpse of Miles. Instead, I listened to Gil’s Monday Night Orchestra producing a glorious sound, including Goodbye Pork Pie Hat – Mingus’ tribute to the memory of Prez. This mournful tune brings back memories of a foggy New York Easter, and discovering the brilliant sound of Gil Evans.

Another girl told me that every time I listen to the First of a Million Kisses by Fairground Attraction, I would think of her. Unfortunately, she was right. So I haven’t listened to it since she dumped me.

Back to Goodbye Pork Pie Hat, which also brings back memories of my father’s illness, of me walking through damp London streets, whistling the tune in the autumn rain.

At my father’s memorial service, a quartet played Ellington’s In A Sentimental Mood; happy-sad.

In a different mood: a couple of years later, walking along Belsize Avenue, the Stone Roses’ I Wanna Be Adored blaring on my walkman. Such noise! Another candidate for the perfect pop song – just two and a half lines, but such powerful emotions. Perfect.

And similarly, walking through Brussels art deco streets, listening to Primal Scream’s Screamadelic.

Now back in Edinburgh, Monk’s Bemsha Swing recalls a crowded gig at Henry’s Jazz Cellar by EST a few years ago, where they got the whole audience to sing a long; corny but wonderful. (And they really are a superb band live – the more intimate setting the better.)

I think I am going to leave it there. There are far, far too many songs.

On the Beat