Somewhere in the late 1960's, a young man is leaning out of his bedroom window. He's been reading, perhaps Dostoyevsky or Robert Heinlein. It's late, and the warm wind is blowing through the trees. He can hear each leaf rustle against the other. He might be anywhere but in the London suburbs, and in his heart he is. Anywhere but here, with this soundtrack...
I've been through at least four collections of music. The first two on black vinyl, the third on cassette, and the current one on CD. There is so much to choose from, I may as well pick from my favourites at random. Summer In The City brings back a memory of walking along St Martin's Lane at the age of twelve, Mustang Sally of swimming at Plumstead Baths and Sugar Sugar of slot car racing at the Richmond Vineyard.
In the summer of 1971 I was interning at the Isle of Grain Power Station as part of my OND in Electrical Engineering. Top of The Pops was Thursday Night Compulsory, and the men there used to greet Pan's People with remarks like "I've seen better in Rochdale" and made remarks about Curtis Mayfield that can't be repeated in these PC times. On came Carole King. I knew what she was going to sing and inwardly shuddered at what these men might say. To my utter surprise, they fell silent at a song that talks about the end of a relationship - perhaps they knew about "staying in bed all morning just to pass the time".
This next song was Hall and Oates' calling card. Wow. What can you do with lines like these: "think I'll spend eternity in the city / let the carbon and monoxide choke my thoughts away / and pretty bodies help dissolve the memories / but they can never be / what she was to me"? It's linked with the memory of a hot chestnut stand on Tottenham Court Road in the winter of 1974.
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