Photographs and videos provide the most accurate journal of our lives: the place, the period, and the people. Verbatim vivid visuals that transport us back in time. They have the ability to recreate a momentary spasm in time, and collectively, a legacy lost forever in the erosion of our limited and precious stint within human history. But arguably the only medium that has the capacity to touch the very essence of what it means to be human is music. Emotions and eons so elegantly enveloped in an energy that reminds us of what it actually feels like to be alive. Personally, the test of this premise is the beautiful ritual of regularly replaying them, humming, or singing the lyrics, even if – in my case – I often have to improvise since I don’t profess to have encyclopaedic recall.
The following tracks capture my life. The loves, losses, confusion, and celebrations that collectively represent me. The contradictions, consistencies, and utter craziness that I still celebrate to this day. Often within the solitary confines of my car, the brilliance of voice recognition allows my Spotify account to remind me of what it actually means to be me. My autobiographical anthology captures the spirit of why it has been encoded within my emotional DNA ─ with the keen desire that you are encouraged to do the same, and maybe test Bono’s assertion that “music can change the world because it can change people.”
1. Motörhead by Motörhead
My first head-on collision with Motorhead was at the Oxford Apollo. A mate from college had given me a spare ticket and I tagged along without really knowing much about the band, save their heavy metal status. Once Lemmy, Philthy Animal, and Fast Eddie blasted a hole through the sound barrier and created a permanent scar on my eardrums, I instinctively knew that I had entered a decadent and wonderful world of counterculture. As a hitherto member of the conformist club, the experience ─ and this trademark track in particular ─ changed me forever, and was the birthplace of the rebellious streak that infiltrated my life, choice of career, politics, and the general notion of challenging the status quo (not the band) ever since. The fact that it speaks of an experience I’ve never encountered (taking speed) is inconsequential, and the pure poetry of the militant lines still excites me today.
Sunrise wrong side of another day,
Sky-high and six thousand miles away,
Don’t know how long I’ve been awake,
Wound up in an amazing state.
And I challenge you to find another piece of music that includes the word “parallelogram.”
Thanks, guys, for allowing me to grow the balls to challenge this often mad, bad society we call humanity.
2. The Chinese Way by Level 42
I guess it’s peculiar that I should associate this classic with falling in love for the first time, but I played it almost continually on my in-car tape deck as I drove my first car – a Mark 3 Ford Cortina estate ─ to Julie’s home in Farnham. Although it isn’t a love song, the lyrics spoke to me of mystery, discovery, and wonder: the true elements of love.
I often play this song and think how fortunate I am to travel the world (including China) and to have shared such a special time with my Julie.
3. Don’t stop me now by Queen
I count myself one of the luckiest people in the world to have seen Queen live. Freddie Mercury had the superhuman ability to connect the heart, head, and spirit, as he nonchalantly owned every stage he blessed. I had to ponder long and hard to select my favourite Queen ballad, but this nudged to the fore as I know every word off by heart, and these words harness what I aspire to be:
I’m a shooting star, leaping through the sky
Like a tiger defying the laws of gravity
I’m a racing car, passing by like Lady Godiva
I’m gonna go, go, go, there’s no stopping me.
4. Joe 90 theme
As a sixties kid, I was totally spoilt for great entertainment: Thunderbirds, Captain Scarlet, and Stingray are up there. But Joe 90 was exceptional since it posed the fanciful ideal that adulthood was where the real action was, and childhood was simply a frustrating time where adults primarily blocked what I wanted to do. Momentarily Joe was able to boss this space as a kid endowed with the technical expertise that was embedded via the mechanism that is the “Brain Impulse Galvanoscope Record And Transfer” or better known as “BIG RAT.”
As an adult, I have also come to cherish the most amazing guitar play.
5. Bartender by James Blunt
Alcohol and bouts of shenanigans have littered my life, and will, no doubt, continue to do so. The emotional cocktail of lust and alcohol have frequently created a space where the margin has been pushed, and sometimes willingly crossed, by both parties. I have often been pressed on such matters of sexual conquest; occasionally there is a time and a place to spill the beans, but the secrecy of situational sex should remain known only to those involved. Having said that, sex crosses a line that is almost impossible to row back from, and emotional excess leaves a tangible change, even if you latterly wish it didn’t. Physically, humans are essentially water (about sixty percent H2O) but emotionally there is a much greater fluidity that ebbs, flows, and often causes wreckage that neither willing participant ever sought to achieve.
This track speaks to me of this curious mix of calamity and carnal consciousness. And since I have the dance floor motion of an ox, these lines in particular have a significant personal connection:
We can dance but I can’t dance
Maybe we should stick to holding hands
Should we raise a glass and forget the past.
6. Wasn’t expecting that by Jamie Lawson.
Some things in life are so tragic that finding the words to express the pain is impossible. Losing my wife, Theresa, to cancer is one such graphic example. Then there comes along a song that does the heavy lifting for you. In my case this is the one. Save a few minor inconsistencies, primarily the number of children we had, this beautiful song explains everything. To this day I have never been able to play it without crying.
7. The Great Escape Theme.
One of the all-time classic movie soundtracks that captures a multitude of emotions: bravery, guile, fortitude, and fighting back when the odds seem to be insurmountable.
I have frequently drawn upon these qualities, and I’ve heard it more than once at Meadow Lane, Nottingham, when my team, Notts County, have stared relegation in the face, inciting the crowd to lift the players.
8. What A Waste by Ian Dury & The Blockheads.
Ian Dury’s exquisite linguistic skills hit me one Saturday morning whilst watching TISWAS – one of the most popular children’s shows of all time. The ragtag band had a look wholly contradictory to popular music culture and this sparked an immediate bond. Being different in a world geared for obedience is a thing of beauty.
The lyrics were just as captivating, with the concept that every role in life had a sense of providence.
I could be a lawyer with stratagems and ruses,
I could be a doctor with poultices and bruises,
I could be a writer with a growing reputation,
I could be the ticket man at Fulham Broadway Station.
This track saw a lifelong partnership with the Dury take on life and the wonderful word play that is more often than not reflected within my own writing.
Coming to the end of my music legacy, I find Bono’s claim to be proven, and can only think of one way to appropriately sign off:
And now, the end is near,
And so I face the final curtain,
My friend, I’ll say it clear,
I’ll state my case, of which I’m certain,
I’ve lived a life that’s full,
I travelled each and every highway,
And more, much more than this
I did it my way.
(My Way by Frank Sinatra)
© Ian Kirke 2023 and all photographs.
@ianjkirke