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The influences of others can have a big effect on our musical path through life.
listening to The Beatles with my Mum was inspirational to me as a small boy.
My Mum Mavis Plays a Tune
We had the records and I in particular, played them to death on a tin pot radiogram, this was before getting my very own ‘portable’ record player.
Whether it be friends or family, these early influences can be both a breath of fresh air or a burden.
Getting back to my dear old Mum, now sadly gone, her love of music almost lead to a split from my father and in doing so, no me.
It all came about when my Mum bought herself a ticket for Bill Haley, who was on his first tour of the UK and who had got the kids jumping with this new found racket called Rock ‘n’ Roll.
Bill Haley
Not being a fan, my father and her husband to be, demanded that she not go, something she brought up at regular times when we discussed music.
Not that she bore a grudge, but was forever sad that she never rebelled and went with her mates. My Dad could be funny like that. Had it been Elvis, who never toured the UK, I doubt I’d exist now as I couldn’t see her backing away from that gig.
Another of my earliest memories was playing constantly ‘Heartbreak Hotel‘ at full volume until the plug was pulled, along with hits by The Beatles, Dave Clark Five and, when much younger Lonnie Donegan’s ‘My Old Man’s a Dustman, it must have driven the old man nuts.
These records that my Mum had bought certainly kick-started a love of music with me pushing aside my Pinky and Perky multi-track EP on shocking pink vinyl, never to be listened to ever again.
Whilst Rock ‘n’Rock never made any impression on my father, he did have a soft spot for Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons and when he did venture near the record player without kicking it or turning it off, he’d been known to play their hits and records that I very much liked myself.
Not such a happy memory was being sent into town to buy him ‘Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head’ which he had heard in the cinema whilst working away and that featured prominently in Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid.
Strolling into Buffalo Records, Cardiff, with my head barely reaching above the counter, I asked for the record, the title of which I had repeated parrot-fashion on the bus, just so that I wouldn’t forget the title and incur his wrath.
I paid my money and headed off to the bus station feeling very pleased with myself, certain in the knowledge that delivery would be met by a bar of chocolate, no problem.
What neither my Dad or me realised was that the film version of the song was by B. J. Thomas. Sadly, gripped tightly in my small brown paper bag was a version by French heartthrob Sasha Distel. Not best pleased with the result there was no celebratory chocolate, though he did come to enjoy the version by Slasha.
Having a older brother, his record collection, though quite eclectic, served to provide much inspiration, most notably his records by Al Green and the excellent Motown Chartbusters.
Less than inspiring was Bread’s Greatest Hits and Rick Wakeman’s Journey To The Centre Of The Earth, though both sold by the truckload.
For every unmentionable album in the rack there was a gem like Hunky Dory or Bridge Over Troubled Water and so my education continued.
Of course friends can provide the best albums to check out. I remember hearing The Clash for the first time on the shittiest of cassette recorders.
The recording I believe was taken direct from the radio, The John Peel Show. Even allowing for the awful recording I was gripped, just as I was when a good mate played me Joni Mitchell’s Court And Spark for the first time.
Moments like these still remain to this day, where the hairs on the back of your neck signal something new and exciting.
I’ve tried where possible to guide and influence others, most notably when my sister asked my go with her to town as she wanted to buy ‘Mother Of Mine’ by Opportunity Knocks winner Neil Reid.
We came back with a bit of a result as I convinced and cajoled her into buying Ringo’s ‘Back Of Boogaloo’ and ‘The Witch Queen Of New Orleans’ by Redbone, both from the bargain bin.
I think she grew to like them both, eventually.