Lockdown Desert Island Discs

Choosing, listening, sharing
Music is a remarkable art form. It can establish moods and evoke memories. It can soothe, enliven, delight, excite, seduce, motivate, frighten, impress, shock, arouse. Music can calm you, disturb you and bring you comfort. Music has been enjoyed since recorded history and has mysterious properties that tap into the brain’s wiring in surprising ways. Musicians in Japan, for example, process music with different brain impulses than musicians in the West. Although the brain’s right (creative) side shows more activity when playing or listening to music, the left (logical) side also shows significant activity. Brain imaging research suggests that few parts of the brain are unaffected by whatever it is that music does to humans. A recent Desert Island Discs broadcast challenged non-celebrities to send in their “lockdown tracks” and thousands responded resulting in a very moving edition of the programme. Friend Michael sent out the call on Facebook and Sally and I and Sally’s sister, Julie, and many of Michael’s friends had an enjoyable 8 lockdown days of choosing, listening to and sharing music.

Julie's spontaneous choices for lockdown, exuberantly unable to narrow down to Eight choices!

The Ones I Left Behind
Choosing only 8 tracks proved trickier than I thought. On the BBC Radio 4 programme, over the years, choices seem to come in three categories:

• Discs that connect emotionally to a specific memory
• Discs that the guest loves right now
• Discs to impress the listening public

Trying to reconcile the competing motivations of the first two bullet points meant that Lesley Gore’s It’s My Party (the first record I remember from the radio) and the O’Jay’s Love Train (the first record I purchased with my own money) were in prime position until I realised that eight discs is such a meagre choice. Which Elton John should I choose? Which Beatles track?  Would there be room for David Bowie, Elvis Presley, Frank Sinatra, Marc Bolan, Rod Stewart, Bay City Rollers, The Jam, Mud, The Three Degrees, Aretha Franklin, Carly Simon, Dionne Warwick, Ella Fitzgerald, Joan Armatrading, Joni Mitchell, Nina Simone, Tracey Chapman – artists who have provided the sound track of my formative years? Which film soundtrack? Which song from a musical? Which classical composer? Do I include Ray Charles’s Born To Lose or Jim Reeves’s Welcome to My World or I Love You Because as they were favourites of my Mum? Or my Dad’s favourite serenading song: I’ll take you home again, Kathleen ? Choices…. choices….

My Eight lockdown choices

Tony’s Lockdown Desert Island Discs

• The Drifters: Kissing in the Back Row of the Movies (school discos, coach journeys, defying parents, delayed gratification – you can’t have too much fun/till all your homework’s done)
• Kate Bush: Cloudbusting (could have been many of Kate Bush’s tracks but this one has Donald Sutherland in the official video and is about fathers and daughters)
• Johnny Flynn: Detectorists theme song (a poetic lyric, a gorgeous melody and arrangement and memories of a truly great BBC TV series)
• Grieg: Peer Gynt (my Uncle Bill introduced me to Grieg, I’ve loved visiting Norway, Ibsen is a hero for me, I used the music in productions of Ghosts at university and Peer Gynt in my teaching career)
• The Beatles (George Harrison’s): Here Comes The Sun (fell in love with the track when it was first released and have returned to it time and again in times of need; it also contains one of my meta-obsessions – if Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?)
• Elton John; Empty Garden (another poetic lyric by the miraculous Bernie Taupin, the connection with John Lennon, the terrific melody, the symbolism – there were many other potential Elton John songs – The Greatest Discovery probably leading the pack – but I settled on this one)
• Annie Lennox and The Eurhythmics: Heaven must be missing an angel (personal memories of a time and place…. Leek, the year before and the year after getting married….)
• Dire Straits: Romeo and Juliet (a story song, a great band, Shakespeare, set in Northumbria)

Save from the waves: Heaven must be missing an angel
Book: TH White’s The Once and Future King (all five volumes)
Luxury: Reams of paper and a fountain pen (with unlimited ink)

Sally's Eight lockdown choices

Sally’s Lockdown Desert Island Discs

• Simon Dupree and the Big Sound: Kites (I will fly a yellow paper sun in your sky / when the wind is high / I will float a silver solid moon through your window / If your night is dark….)
• The Osmonds: Love Me For A Reason (Where other teenage girls went for David Cassidy in the 1970s, Sally had a Donny poster. They certainly rocked white suits and could synchronise their groovy dance moves.)
• The Carpenters: We’ve Only Just Begun chosen mainly to savour Karen’s rich, fragile, effortless, secure voice
• Grieg: Wedding Day at Troldhaugen – a memory of Sally’s mum’s piano playing
• Irving Berlin – Sisters (All kinds of weather / We stick together / The same in the sun or shine) and a part of the annual Christmas celebrations in the Allard-Johnson household
• Earth, Wind and Fire: Boogie Wonderland – evoking Sally’s teenage disco days and a scene-stealing routine in (a favourite) 2011 French film Intouchables where Omar Sy energises a birthday party
• Holst: Jupiter, the bringer of jollity from The Planets Suite including the beautiful melody of the hymn I vow to thee my country but, more pertinently, a favourite piece of classical music for Sally’s dad
• Stevie Wonder: For Once In My Life for the happiness it brings

Save from the waves: Jupiter, the bringer of jollity
Book: Charlotte Brontë’s Jane Eyre
Luxury: A comfy bed with magically changing linen

Michael's Eight lockdown choices

Michael’s Lockdown Desert Island Discs

• Joni Mitchell: For Free (specifically the version from the 1970 Ladies of the Canyon album)
• Paul Simon: Rene and Georgette Magritte with their dog after the war (one of Michael's favourite artists, this song is based on a photograph Paul Simon saw in Joan Baez's house imagining artists in exile in America)
• Van Morrison: Days like this (a life-affirming song from a grumpy old git with a mean solo saxophone)
• Bruce Springsteen: Thunder Road (a poetic lyric, the live acoustic version from the Roxy Theatre)
• Bryan Ferry: Let’s stick together (excellent for bopping around the kitchen)
• Joan Armatrading : Baby I (Michael almost picked Willow or Love and Affection or Merchant of Love and I empathise because Joan Armatrading was close to making my final 8 choices)
• Tim Minchin: White wine in the sun (in tribute to the Australian branch of the Thompson-Snailham clan and in honour of a witty songwriter)
• Tom Waits: Picture in a frame (an acquired taste but a bona fide genius)
• In his FB posts, Michael explained: “The Rolling Stones Hand of Fate just missed the cut today…  no Elvis Costello, no Steely Dan, no Pretenders, all of whom could have staked a claim. Kate Bush could have been in there....”

Save from the waves: Thunder Road
Book: Nick Butterworth: The Complete Percy the Park Keeper
Luxury: Jura coffee machine with big sack of good, strong beans

BBC Radio Desert Island Discs: Roy Plomley, Sue Lawley, MIchael Parkinson, Kirsty Young, Lauren Laverne and a guest or two....

Smiling and Waving and Looking So Fine

Bowie in Brecht's Baal

RIP David Bowie

How do you pay tribute to someone you never met but who contributed to your emerging self? There’s a line in Nicolas Roeg’s The Man Who Fell To Earth directed at Bowie by Candy Clark’s character, Mary-Lou:

You know, Tommy, you’re a freak. I don’t mean that unkindly. I like freaks. And that’s why I like you.

The Man Who Sold The World

I don’t know whether or not the lyric below is my favourite Bowie lyric (and possibly song) – I could have chosen ANYTHING from Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars which I must have played over a hundred times.

We passed upon the stair, we spoke of was and when
Although I wasn’t there, he said I was his friend
Which came as some surprise, I spoke into his eyes
I thought you died alone, a long long time ago

Oh no, not me
I never lost control
You’re face to face
With the man who sold the world

I laughed and shook his hand, and made my way back home
I searched for form and land, for years and years I roamed
I gazed a gazely stare at all the millions here
We must have died alone, a long long time ago

Who knows?  Not me
We never lost control
You’re face to face
With the man who sold the world

Some lyrics are just funny (When you’re a boy/You can wear a uniform from Boys Keep Swinging), some are mysterious (Rule Britannia is out of bounds/To my mother, my dog and clowns from Life on Mars?) and some are pure poetry (Your circuit’s dead/There’s something wrong/Can you hear me, Major Tom? from Space Oddity.) His songs will endure.

Only Bernie Taupin’s lyrics loomed larger than Bowie

I think only Elton John’s albums had a bigger impact on my teenage years than David Bowie. Yes, there were particular songs that had personal significance like Love Train (The O’Jays), Kissing in the Back Row of the Movies (the Drifters) and She (Charles Aznavour); particular albums that were played over and over again like Dark Side of the Moon, Simon and Garfunkel’s Greatest Hits and Tubular Bells; and various groups and artists caught my imagination: The Beatles, the Stones, Rod Stewart, Marc Bolan, Carly Simon, Carole King, Suzi Quatro, Blondie, the Carpenters, Queen, Mud, Lindisfarne, The Eagles…. These were the background to my teenage life. But, apart from Elton John’s music and Bernie Taupin’s lyrics (lyrics that, frankly, obsessed me) no-one got into my bloodstream more than Bowie.

The Man Who Fell To Earth, Merry Christmas Mr Lawrence, Labyrinth

Stiff on my legend (lyric from Cracked Actor)

Bowie worked with impressive and maverick directors: Martin Scorsese in The Last Temptation of Christ (as Pilate), David Lynch in Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me, Tony Scott in The Hunger and Nagisa Oshima in Merry Christmas Mr Lawrence but it is probably his roles in Jim Henson’s Labyrinth and The Man Who Fell To Earth that capture his mercurial and other-worldly quality. Although he was uncomfortable on stage, the accounts of his performances in Pomerance’s Elephant Man and Brecht’s Baal, reveal an unsettling and uncompromising stage presence.

Precious

He was a man. Take him for all in all.
I shall not look upon his like again.

As Bowie’s character, Jareth, in Labyrinth, says “How you turn my world, you precious.”
G’bye, Bowie.