Tuesday, 8 February 2011

The soundtrack to life.

I've always loved music. There are songs and pieces of music that take me back to another time when I hear them. It got me thinking that maybe we all have a soundtrack to our lives, songs that mark those special moments, those milestones in our lives, that stand out and always stay with us.

This would be my soundtrack, so far...

December 63, oh what a night - Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons - snogging behind the village hall at the end of the Saturday night disco when I was 15. No memory at all of who I was snogging but I remember the song clearly.

Song Sung Blue - Neil Diamond - memories of my beloved dad. It felt like Neil Diamond was always playing at home during my teenage years. Still, it was better than his other love, The Dubliners...

Eton Rifles - The Jam - being bought a drink by Bruce Foxton when I was a young music critic in Woking, their hometown. Press tickets to their last ever gig at Wembley, how I loved The Jam....

Je t'aime moi non plus - Jane Birkin & Serge Gainsbourg - the intensity of first love at 18. Playing this on the jukebox every time we went to our local pub, how daring it felt then.

Love will tear us apart - Joy Division - first heartbreak. Sitting in my bedroom playing this over and over until my parents could bear it no more and took the plug off my record player.

Handbags and Gladrags - Rod Stewart - I blame this song entirely for my expensive and ongoing addiction to Mulberry bags.

Chemistry - Rush - the romance that led to marriage.

Sara - Fleetwood Mac - wedding day. The plan was to play it as we signed the register until I realised it goes on for more than five minutes and there was no way we could spin out writing our names for that long.

We will rock you - Queen - not what I intended to herald the arrival of son number two but the anaesthetist had had enough of Enya.

Clair de Lune - Debussy - I learned to play this on the flute as a kid and it still calms my mind today.

Starlight - Muse - dancing (badly) to this every August on holiday in France on our terrace after a few too many glasses of pink bubbly.

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