{"id":622,"date":"2014-11-29T16:46:18","date_gmt":"2014-11-29T16:46:18","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/tim-dawson.com\/?p=622"},"modified":"2025-01-05T10:38:38","modified_gmt":"2025-01-05T10:38:38","slug":"tracks-of-my-tears-an-internal-jukebox-selection","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/tim-dawson.com\/?p=622","title":{"rendered":"Tracks of my tears: an internal jukebox selection"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><strong>1.<\/strong> I grew up in a home where the King was revered. In the &#8217;70s I couldn&#8217;t get excited about big ballads, curious concept albums and woeful film scores. The Sun recordings, however, had a raw, personal, intensity to which I responded immediately. Before I was a teen, I had Elvis&#8217; intonations and Scotty&#8217;s licks hardwired deep inside. They are balm in times of trouble.<\/p>\n<p><iframe loading=\"lazy\" src=\"\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/NmopYuF4BzY\" width=\"560\" height=\"315\" frameborder=\"0\" allowfullscreen=\"allowfullscreen\"><\/iframe><\/p>\n<p><strong>2.<\/strong> No band will ever mean as much to me as The Clash. From the April 1977 release of their first album, it was rarely off my turntable for long. Punk took up where the raucous, uninhibited rock n\u2019 roll of pre-army Elvis left off (as had much else beside of which I was then unaware). My friend\u00a0John West\u00a0and I used to sit around wondering whether the \u2018second Clash album\u2019 could possibly approach such heights of greatness. It didn\u2019t. But London Calling, released in mid-December 1979, was the band\u2019s masterpiece. Lyrically and musically the range of its 19 tracks is epic.<\/p>\n<p>Rock n\u2019 roll, reggae, disco and jazz delivered potent homilies about revolution, evolution, love, angst and apocalypse. I quote its lines &#8211; to myself at least &#8211; almost daily.<\/p>\n<p>Lost In The Supermarket is not the best track on the album, but it is the one that I hold dearest. My girlfriend at the time told me that is was \u2018about me\u2019. It isn\u2019t, it is about, and is sung by Mick Jones. Nonetheless, its account of alienation in the face of consumerism spoke to me. It was a wall in Bradford, not a hedge in the suburbs over which I never could see, but the outlook was the same. I returned to inspect the wall years later and was surprised to find that it scarcely reached my chest. Large retail premises bewilder me yet.<\/p>\n<p><iframe loading=\"lazy\" src=\"\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/qsrEAWcAvRg\" width=\"420\" height=\"315\" frameborder=\"0\" allowfullscreen=\"allowfullscreen\"><\/iframe><\/p>\n<p><strong>3.<\/strong> I discovered Detroit in my mid-teens from several sleeveless junk shop \u2018Motown Gold\u2019 compilations. Their condition was woeful, but I loved them immediately, scratches and all. I still expect the Velvelette\u2019s Needle In A Haystack to stick in its groove just after the middle eight and the Four Top\u2019s Bernadette sounds wrong without a static crackle over the opening bars.<\/p>\n<p>I didn\u2019t know much about the musicians behind Berry Gordy\u2019s Hitsville until I saw the film <a href=\"http:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Standing_in_the_Shadows_of_Motown\">Standing In The Shadows Of Motown<\/a>, the studio-backing-band\u2019s biopic. To my surprise, tambourine player, Jack Ashford is lavishly featured. Who could call themselves a musician whose instrument is so beloved by Salvationists and primary school teachers, I wondered? Then I saw him play. Of course, he was Motown\u2019s tambourine player \u2013 a rhythmic genius whose shimmering beats define recordings of Holland-Dozier-Holland\u2019s songs at least as much as Jameson and Babbitt\u2019s bass.<\/p>\n<p>Ashford is never better than on Edwin Starr\u2019s \u2018War\u2019 \u2013 from Motown\u2019s counter-cultural period. I am not a pacifist, but any conflict that can\u2019t answer Starr\u2019s repeated question isn\u2019t worth a drop of blood. And anybody who isn\u2019t propelled to shake their booty by War\u2019s insistent groove is surely already acquainted with the undertaker?<\/p>\n<p><iframe loading=\"lazy\" src=\"\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/dQHUAJTZqF0\" width=\"560\" height=\"315\" frameborder=\"0\" allowfullscreen=\"allowfullscreen\"><\/iframe><\/p>\n<p><strong>4.<\/strong> It is a dependable rule of thumb in popular music that when meanings are obscure or metaphors in play \u2013 then sex or drugs are the subjects. Elvis\u2019 interest in \u2018playing house\u2019 had nothing to do with washing dishes; David Bowie even provided an explanatory follow-up song for any who imagined that Major Tom\u2019s odyssey was anywhere but inner space.<\/p>\n<p>There also been some magnificent unabashed paeans to the joys of enhanced reality \u2013 Lou Reed is among my favourite ever songwriters.<\/p>\n<p>Articulating aspects of life alongside someone for whom drugs have ceased to be recreational, however, is a significantly rarer trope. That Elizabeth Cook manages to be funny, insightful and poignant all at once, as well as wrapping her words up in a tune that dependably reduces me to tears, makes this song great. Its finest quality, however, is the way that it retains a capacity to shock despite being largely comprised of matter-of-fact phrases that could be heard in any home.<\/p>\n<p>I have never had a sister, but Cook\u2019s theme is all too familiar. Her words are a reminder of the joy in even the most troubled lives, and that sharing has the power to dissipate pain. I would incorporate their study into the English curriculum.<\/p>\n<p><iframe loading=\"lazy\" src=\"\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/8Dcnhwm2w4o\" width=\"560\" height=\"315\" frameborder=\"0\" allowfullscreen=\"allowfullscreen\"><\/iframe><\/p>\n<p><strong>5.<\/strong> Elvis Costello once explained to an interviewer his reticence about publishing lyrics on album covers (and I am paraphrasing from very distant memory here). \u201cPeople often come up to me and say: I really like this or that line from a song. When they repeat it back to me, however, it is clear that they have completely misheard or misunderstood me. But fans&#8217; versions of my words are generally much better than my originals \u2013 and who would want to deny listeners such quality material\u201d?<\/p>\n<p>He expresses a truth about the way we consume songs that present a collage of ideas without necessarily having a clear narrative thread. I\u2019m usually caught first by a melody and then I slowly start to pull out phrases that have some kind of resonance as I sing along in my head. I can listen to and love a song for years without considering its words as a single entity. Sometimes when I do, an old friend delivers an unexpected treat.<\/p>\n<p>So it was with Coffee + TV from my favourite Blur album by far. It hooked me from my first listen, but its meaning unraveled only slowly. When finally I did sit down and read the words, it was a surprise to find that \u2013 of course &#8211; it deals with being overwhelmed with commercial stimuli and the search for a wholesome alternative. Thirty five years on, and it turns out that I am still Lost In The Supermarket.<\/p>\n<p>Hammer &amp; Tongs video is a treat, too.<\/p>\n<p><iframe loading=\"lazy\" src=\"\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/6oqXVx3sBOk\" width=\"560\" height=\"315\" frameborder=\"0\" allowfullscreen=\"allowfullscreen\"><\/iframe><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>1. I grew up in a home where the King was revered. In the &#8217;70s I couldn&#8217;t get excited about big ballads, curious concept albums and woeful film scores. The Sun recordings, however, had a raw, personal, intensity to which &hellip;<\/p>\n<p class=\"read-more\"> <a class=\"more-link\" href=\"https:\/\/tim-dawson.com\/?p=622\"> <span class=\"screen-reader-text\">Tracks of my tears: an internal jukebox selection<\/span> Read More &raquo;<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":633,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-622","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-culture"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/tim-dawson.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/622","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/tim-dawson.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/tim-dawson.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/tim-dawson.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/tim-dawson.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=622"}],"version-history":[{"count":6,"href":"https:\/\/tim-dawson.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/622\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":635,"href":"https:\/\/tim-dawson.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/622\/revisions\/635"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/tim-dawson.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/633"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/tim-dawson.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=622"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/tim-dawson.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=622"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/tim-dawson.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=622"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}