1978  New Jersey makes it mark

The punk explosion placed British music at the heart of my new London experiences, yet Capital Radio's Roger Scott had other ideas. One evening, heralding their arrival to play a gig in London, he played a track by Southside Johnny and the Asbury Jukes. They were completely unknown to me, but Rich and Pete my flatmates knew them, and I absorbed the fact that they were all part of the Springsteen diaspora. "This Time its for Real" contained stories of love in a gritty urban landscape which felt just right as the London autumn drew in. They were never big names anywhere, and they faded from my vision completely in the late 80's only to triumphantly return in 1991 with "Better days".  I saw them once live - they were excellent - and am always reminded of them through Steve van Zandt. Last year I bought a couple of later live CDs - they are a band who enjoy making music rather than being stars. But that album from 1978 still has the spine-tingling atmosphere that comes alive on any autumn night when I happen to put it on.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z3Tp-HjYLps

1979 An English Rose

This was the year I fell in love really seriously, and of course when that happens it influences your taste in music. The Jam were not appropriate for romantic candle-lit evenings. Judie Tzuke definitely was. I was surprised how entranced I was by her sugar-sweet hit single "Stay with me til Dawn", but her album "Welcome to the Cruise" was full of great songs. It accompanied me on my epic Inter Rail holiday, as I went north through Scandinavia and back down to Helsinki to stay with Jussi; then back to Amsterdam for the first time (some Golden Earring to accompany that segment of course), the night train south to Ventimiglia and back to Diano Marina where we met up with Jussi and Hexi again, and then on to the island of Rab, while Pete went further on, to Greece. 

Judie Tzuke was a favourite for several years afterwards. She was great live, her pure voice needing no enhancement. Everyone thought of her as the quintissential English rose; hardened male rock fans acted completely out of character by throwing red roses to her.

So it came as something of a shock to find, thanks to Wikipedia, that Judie is in fact of Slavic stock. Her parents emigrated from Poland, and Tzuke is her original Polish family name. With hindsight, as I watch these old clips of her now, I should have bloody guessed it ages ago...

1978 Soundtrack of an epic holiday

We we were self-confident, full of energy, our careers were burgeoning. Of course we wanted to show the world, or at least Europe. We headed off on a package holiday to Diano Marina in Northern Italy. I taped my favourite music of the week off the Capital Countdown, and it was played endlessly to Jussi and Pena, from Helsinki, eager to drink in the British culture, while getting us to drink all kind of dubious alcoholic concoctions, often straight after breakfast. Another punk send-up song had captured the imagination. Jussi and Pena learnt "Jilted John" word for word

Meanwhile Siouxsie & the Banshees, rapidly maturing into a talented act with staying power, captured the sunlight and optimism with "Hong Kong Garden"

1977 Back in Punk - driven London

I returned to London to start my career in earnest, and had the huge good fortune to fall into the house-share in Twickenham where I would make friends for life. Far from creating anarchy, the Sex Pistols had been the trigger for a creative explosion. New punk rock bands had given a reason for disco venues to convert back to live music. Capital Radio, led by DJ Roger Scott, did its best to air the new bands, despite their often controversial lyrics. The announcement  of a new Sex Pistols single always caused a sharp intake of breath. They scorned the Jubilee festivities with "God Save the Queen" and scorned the entire music industry with "EMI". But some other bands were emerging. The Damned and the Clash were not quite my cup of tea, but the Stranglers captured the sound of the summer, with "Peaches" and No more Heroes. It was probably a bit crass of the BBC to expect a band like that to go along with the sham miming session that was Top of the Pops...

And then there was The Jam. "In the City" added to the rich tapestry of new music that summer, and Paul Weller lasted (has lasted) in my musical hemisphere long after punk became history

and then from the USA came the perplexing Jonathan Richman and his "Roadrunner". It was the first of several punk-influenced songs whose sense of humour appealed to me, and still make me smile today. It was also a favourite on our party tapes, back-to -back with Tom Robinsons' "2-4-6-8 Motorway"

1st September, 1976..anarchy

A long hot summer, selling biscuits in the sleepy South Midlands, was drawing to a close. I returned to London to see my family, and see Charlton early in the new season. Music, well, same old, really. The Who had played at the Valley again, but I didn't go. Nothing much was happening...

My parents went to bed. Idly I checked the TV. There was an interesting looking late show on ITV from Manchester, called  "So it goes". I tuned in. Tony Wilson introduced a new band called the Sex Pistols. The very name was risky. But the next three minutes saw my whole world, as defined by music, turn upside down.

I don't think any other audio-video presentation has ever had such an effect on me. Perhaps the Olympic 2012 opening event; but that was a benign, feel good affair. This wasn't. All sorts of conflicting thoughts went through my head.The first was that I had been away from London, in the sleepy Midlands and the place had gone into ferment. The second was that it was a wind up, it had to be. But they looked serious: by the standards of 1976, that really was anarchy on TV. Then I thought I had lost touch with young people. I was, on that day, 22 years old...

I went to bed, shattered and slightly scared. 

The Thin White Duke

1976 Although he was a Beckenham boy, I hadn't really connected with David Bowie

In particular all the Ziggy Stardust stuff sailed right over my head. But in early 1976 he was due to play a concert in London coinciding with the release of his new album. All his fans turned up in their Ziggy Stardust gear, only to be confronted with his new, completely different persona. I was seriously impressed, especially when I heard the album, the first one whose music I seriously enjoyed. I didn't understand it at the time, but Bowie was also being drawn to the Continent: "the European pattern is here"

It was probably the most subversive moment in rock'n'roll at that time. I was sent to Northampton, a terminally dull town, to do my obligatory year selling biscuits. The music was generally dull, dull dull. Was it just me? No. Little did I know it in that long hot summer, but an explosion was brewing on the British rock scene

A diamond in the greyness

1975 What the hell is Northern Soul, anyway?

To this day, I still don't know. I had been sent off to the North for the first time. It was hugely enjoyable, but no-one seemed to like rock music. Nor could I listen to any. London had a new commercial radio station, Capital Radio, but I could not pick it up in Grimsby, nor could I pick up RNI, which was still playing but too far south. Disco, disco, disco. The mysterious Northern soul they all raved about went right over my head. Sometimes you might get a track from the Eagles' album. Wow.

When I returned to Portsmouth there still wasn't much happening. Until one day, I heard this most extraordinary track,  presented by Capital's Roger Scott. It sounded like it was too big for  the radio speakers. It had the most extraordinary musical dynamics. And I had never heard of the artist before. His name was Bruce Springsteen.  

(this clip is a brilliantly edited montage of the famous song, played  live in concerts spanning 37 years)

Santana; the sound of eternal sunshine

1974 Santana, Steely Dan, Doobie Brothers ; mellow, sunny music

From "Samba pa ti" on Abraxas onwards, there would always be a Santana track which would perfectly fit the relaxed sensuous mood of a Mediterranean evening. Chris and Figs, from Portsmouth were into a more mellow sound anyway. They liked Stevie Wonder and some funky stuff, which wasn't for me, but the intelligent Steely Dan and Doobie Brothers, and Santana was music we could all enjoy, and they became the soundtrack of our holiday - of course a return to Istria! 

Santana became an ever-present favourite. I can never get enough of Carlos' wonderful guitar solos, and it was great  to finally see him live in Prague in 2010, full of energy and good vibes in a three hour set.

A Classic: "Who's Next"

1974 The Who, at the top of their game, fill my beloved stadium

In those days you did not hear new rock music as soon as it was released. Where would you hear it? Especially away from the pirates in the North Sea, there was just Radio 1, which was mainly playing pop. That's why I only discovered the full depth of the brilliant Who's Next in 1974. In the summer they played The Valley. It was a strange feeling, to finally be there and see it filled to its 75,000 capacity, knowing that it would never see that number for football. What a concert that was, with Bad Company early on, Lou Reed completely bombing, and as the sun went down on a rare golden summer day, the electric intro to Baba O'Reilly filled the Valley. But my favourite track on the album is this one, rarely played live, a haunting and wistful track which the legendary Keith Moon drives to its finale.