1977: Elvis Costello - My Aim is True

Elvis Costello: I own about 90 of his songs, five over full albums, 'My Aim is True', 'Imperial Bedroom', 'Blood and Chocolate', 'Painted from Memory', 'When I Was Cruel', and then various other songs from all over his career. I'm not what you'd call a big fan, but I know my stuff reasonably well.

If a big Elvis Costello fan should see my compilation at the end, they'll probably be able to suggest 15 songs just as good from other albums, because this is  a man whose career has been full of consistently good songs, and I'm not sure I don't know nearly all of them.

He's a great songwriter, surely one of Britain's best, but he seems to exist in a slightly peculiar space of not being loved that much but also not being unknown or passed over. People know who he is, they often know his stuff but, yes, he's somehow not on the highest level of anything, except perhaps pure accomplishment. What's going on there? The voice? Deffo. The face? Maybe. The name? Hmmm. The prickliness? Hard to say.
He's done fine, he even had a few top ten hits, though it's funny, considering just how much of a songwriter supreme he is, that many of his most "famous" songs are covers. Good Year for the Roses, She, I Can't Stand Up For Falling Down, What's So Funny 'Bout Peace, Love and Understanding.

Elvis Costello's a good one for 1977, because I don't really but the myth of Year Zero, that the Sex Pistols and the Clash came along and changed everything, that there was no connection between past and future. Elvis Costello was just a songwriter who'd have done well whatever, it just so happened his career coincided with punk/new wave, so that's what he gets labelled.

This is a debut and it's only a little bit punk. There are some short songs, some fast songs, some angry songs, but it's all very accomplished and varied.

I always loved the album title. Elvis Costello was one of the first people I got into when I got into music (16/17ish) and I listened to his Greatest Hits a lot, and loved 'Alison', which contains the line "My aim is true ..."sang sadly repeatedly and in that context it's obvious that it means he's a well-meaning fellow, he means the best even if he doesn't always show it. But "My Aim is True' out of that context also can mean "I'm a deadeye, I always hit my target", much cockier. I love the ambiguity of that lyric as album title.

'Alison' probably remains the stand-out of this album, a song of masterful misery. Maybe the reason Elvis has never been loved as such is that his love songs always come with a sneer. Paul Weller, for example, could just let it all hang out with something like 'English Rose'. I heard Ray Mears on Desert Island Discs a couple of weeks ago with 'English Rose' as one of his selections. I don't think there are any Elvis Costello songs you'd want at your wedding.

I love 'The Angels Wanna Wear My Red Shoes', 'Pay it Back' and 'I'm Not Angry' too, that easy understanding of Americana and classic rock he has, and some of the neat couplets he comes up with. Probably the most famous song on my version is 'Watching the Detectives' although that was a single tacked on to the album later, apparently. I'd take this album over all the debut albums by the Clash, The Sex Pistols and the Jam, but I suppose it's not half as influential.

Writing about Elvis has caused me to listen to Oliver's Army for the first time in years - what an extraordinary song to be a Number 2 single! I mean, it's genuinely controversial, even shocking, in language and subject matter, far more so than something like God Save the Queen if you actually listen. It helped that it sounded like Dancing Queen, I suppose.

Anyway, he goes on, constructing superb songs. To be honest. I haven't paid that much attention recently. I think I found his voice on a duet with Jenny Lewis called 'Carpetbaggers' pretty hard to deal with. Still, I enjoyed his cameo on 'Treme'.

This is my compilation, actually missing a lot of his classic late 70s singles. Quite a few songs of considerable magnificence here. If I had to pick out four favourites, it would be Shipbuilding, New Lace Sleeves, I Want You and Alison.

Oliver's Army
All This Useless Beauty
New Lace Sleeves
... And In Every Home
Accidents Will Happen
Beyond Belief
Alison
New Amsterdam
I Want You
Tramp the Dirt Down
I Hope You're Happy Now
Man Out of Time
The Angels Wanna Wear My Red Shoes
Shipbuilding
Pay it Back
I'm Not Angry

1985: Dexys Midnight Runners - Don't Stand Me Down

It took a lot of jiggling about to put this list together, to fill one slightly desolate year while choosing the most suitable from a full year. So, sometimes, I may have ended up with albums I'm not necessarily as passionate about as others. This is one such occasion.

'Don't Stand Me Down' is an interesting album to write about but, to be honest, 1985 was a pretty shitty year and  needed a cool album to write about and this filled the breach. My heart lies far more with Dexys' debut from 1980, 'Searching for the Young Soul Rebels'. So, if this post ends up being more about that album than 'Don't Stand Me Down', forgive me.

This is basically what I think about Dexys/Dexys Midnight Runners/Kevin Rowland - it's been downhill all the way ... which is not a slur on anything they've done, believe me. There are five recordings I know (there is another Kevin Rowland solo album from the late 80s, 'The Wanderer', which I've never braved) - 'Searching for the Young Soul Rebels', Too-Rye-Aye', 'Don't Stand Me Down, the notorious solo album 'My Beauty', then the 2012 Dexys (without Midnight Runners) comeback 'One Day I'm Going to Soar'. Slightly bizarrely, I find 'My Beauty' a more enjoyable listen in all its mentalness than 'One Day I'm Going to Soar', so yes, for me, it's Best to Worst, Start to Finish.

In their own way, all of these albums are things of wonder. I'll touch briefly on 'My Beauty' and 'One Day I'm Going to Soar' which aren't really in the same league as the "classic" Dexys albums. 'My Beauty' which famously sold 175 copies in its first week (bit of an urban myth, probably) and features Kev in a dress on the cover, is a collection of covers like 'You'll Never Walk Alone', 'The Greatest Love of All' and 'Daydream Believer'. It's often close to laughable, but I think has some fabulous moments, like his cover of The Hollies' 'I Can't Tell the Bottom from the Top', so I place it marginally above 'One Day I'm Going to Soar'. Don't get me wrong, it was a great attempt at a comeback, it was wonderful to hear new Dexys stuff and I do enjoy it, but perhaps it was too knowing, too stagey, perhaps it just didn't take the elements of original Dexys I wish it had.

In that sense, its closest forebear is 'Don't Stand Me Down', all theatricality, wry spoken word, storytelling. If that's some people's favourite Dexys, that's fine with me, but it's not quite mine.

For quite a while, I placed the underrated 'Too-Rye-Aye' as my favourite Dexys album, dwarfed as it is by finishing with one of the most recognised/reviled songs in the Western (wedding) world.
Closing that album, 'Come On Eileen' remains a great song. Anywhere else, I'm as sick of it as everyone else.
But what other wonders that album possesses! Three of their greatest songs - 'Let's Make It Precious', 'Plan B' and 'Until I Believe In My Soul' which is frankly one of the maddest, most moving, most powerful songs I've ever known. I'll touch on it more later in comparison to a song on 'Don't Stand Me Down'.

And the rest of the album's real good too, but I do now bow entirely to the mastery of 'Searching for the Young Soul Rebels'. It's one of my favourite albums ever, it's one of the greatest albums ever. If you don't know it, if you only know Dexys from 'Come On Eileen', you will not believe how good it is.

It's perfect in concept, in style, in packaging, in myth, in sound, in song. Look, I'm going to say it, I think it's one of the three best British albums of all time, along with 'Revolver' and 'London Calling' (released six months earlier). Perhaps it's more perfect than both those albums, perhaps more influential (or at least on the zeitgeist) than 'London Calling'.

It outpunked punk, it stomped on his weakass contemporaries, it pre-empted the soul(ish) music that was all over British music in the early 80s, it mocked, it worshipped, and it is, all the way through, really and truly about something.

It is a Celtic soul album, not quite in the same way as 'Too Rye Aye' which bravely tries to incorporate Irish sounds with soul sounds, while 'Searching ...' is musically much more of a straight soul sound, full of moody or triumphant brass.

And the songs, the songs are faultless, from 'Burn it Down' (I've already written a lot of what I'd like to say in the post I wrote on that) through 'Tell Me When My Light Turns Green', 'Keep It', 'I Couldn't Help It If I Tried' the marvellous 'Geno' to 'There There My Dear'.

It's unified in sound, it does not let up in its excellence, it ends with Kevin quietly singing 'Everything I do will be funky from now on' ...

Not quite true, there's not much funky in 'Don't Stand Me Down'. There's a whole lot more waltz.

It was a commercial failure on release and has since been reclaimed as a lost classic. Maybe. Kind of.

First of all, the cover I've put for it is for the version I own, the 2001 remastered version - besides any sonic differences, there are two other main differences which make the remastered version better than the original.

1. There's an extra song, indeed, an album opener, called 'Kevin Rowland's 13th time', which I think does a great job of setting up the album.
2. The song 'Knowledge of Beauty' has the new title 'My National Pride'. Rowland explains in the sleevenotes how much he wishes he's given the album that title originally, but he was afraid to be so nakedly patriotic.

'My National Pride' is probably my favourite song on the album. It's a song that consistently gives me the real physical goosebumps as it builds to that final 'My national pride is a personal pride, where I come from ...". It's one for the Irish diaspora and no mistake.

Really, for me, 'Don't Stand Me Down' is an album of great moments, without being a great album. The great moments are dotted all the way through, but I do think the it's top heavy and the second half is a let-down.

'One of Those Things' and 'Reminisce Part 2' feel a bit lightweight to me, 'I Love You (Listen To This)' is great but not quite the monstrous hit one would hope, and 'The Waltz' is fine but goes on a bit.

Talking of going on a bit, perhaps the album's greatness stands or falls by how much you rate the album's centrepiece, 'This is What She's Like', all 12 mins 23 seconds of it.

I've seen Dexys twice (in their 2003 and 2012 comebacks) and to me, 'This is What She's Like' is rather like when Dylan plays 'Desolation Row' ... well, ok, but this is 12 minutes of good gig time you're taking up with this when you could be playing three songs I really really love instead.

'Until I Believe in My Soul' is an epic half the length from the previous album, but twice the song for me, more moving, funnier, more definitive, more everything.

'This is What She's Like' is funny, yes, very funny. How tremendous that deadpan preamble with Billy Adams is, and the digs at the dull hipsters of the day. That bit about the Italian for thunderbolt (fulmine, by the way), absolutely awesome. And when he sings, just sings, wordlessly, it's almost as great as he hopes it might be. But not quite. Not quite.

So there, I don't think 'Don't Stand Me Down' is a classic album because I don't think 'This is What She's Like' or 'I Love you (Listen to This)' are quite as good as Kevin Rowland thinks they are.

I admire the uniqueness of the preppy style but I'll take the New York docker look of 'Searching for the Young Soul Rebels' every time. I wish there were more songs, and at least two of them weren't throwaway. I like the theatricality but I prefer great song after great song.

It's a wonderful oddity but I think people are kidding themselves if they think its Dexys' best album. Which doesn't mean it's not one of the best albums of 1985.

Here's my Dexys/Kevin compilation. Really, they're not a Greatest Hits band though. They're an albums band. There are four and they're all unique and best listened to as a whole and marvellous in their own way. Especially 'Searching for the Young Soul Rebels'. Own it.

Burn it Down
Let's Make This Precious
I Love You (Listen To This)
I Couldn't Help It If I Tried
Geno
My National Pride
I'm Always Going to Love You
Plan B
Come on Eileen
Until I Believe In My Soul
This is What She's Like
The Occasional Flicker
Love Part One/Love Part Two
Tell Me When My Light Turns Green
Manhood
There There My Dear

Maybe you should welcome the new soul vision, welcome the new soul vision, welcome the new soul vision ...

2011: The Decemberists -The King is Dead

I love the Americana, of course, whatever that is. That's my favourite. Alt-country, Beyond Nashville, whatever you call it, the guitar music of usually non-urban America which was clever and crossed over and beloved of Uncut magazine and usually stayed on the margins of success.

Mercury Rev, Wilco, The Shins, The National, Midlake, Wilco, Iron and Wine, Fleet Foxes, Lambchop et cetera et cetera all the way to beardy, worthy heaven. And so, within this large family is a band called the Decemberists.

I first heard them in 2005, via their song 'The Engine Driver', told they were a little bit like the Shins, which back then had an element of truth. Tuneful, whiny, slightly camp, erudite vocals. More folky, more rustic than many, also notably impersonal, steeped in Anglicisms and lore and tall tales.

To be honest, of all the Americanians, it's not really them I'd have picked for the big time, a cult concern if ever there was one. And so they probably remain, but it's a pretty big cult, which propelled this, their last album, to Number 1 in the US album chart.

Perhaps I dwell on charts a bit too much, but they do help to establish context sometimes, and ... well I just like numbers and competitions and all that.

The biggest crossover "indie" band of recent times is Vampire Weekend, who likewise I might not have initially picked for the big time but have a fair bit in common with the Decemberists.

Both bands seem like an almost academic study of another culture's music, both write clever, as well as clever-clever songs, both are tight, and rarely get stuck in a downbeat rut, and both put on a damn good show. They seem like they're having fun and treat their audiences with respect, encourage participation, make it all seem a hoot. Makes me realise where so many of those meaningful bands I love so much go wrong.

This album is a bit sniffed at by Decemberists devotees - it's a straight collection of 10 normal-sized songs rather than an epic concept album based around a Japanese folk tale or a song suite full of different characters and leitmotif. Perhaps it was a calculated attempt to hit the big time, perhaps band leader Colin Meloy tired of too much artifice.

Also, I don't think their previous work, 'The Hazards of Love' (epic song cycle) quite worked. It lacked variety. It seemed to have only one tune which ran all the way through it.

'The King is Dead' has more tunes. Not that they're necessarily the Decemberists' best tunes. I'm a little bit with the doubters on this one. It's a good album but not a great one. It stomps along pleasingly enough, but there are a few standout moments.

The main one for me is perhaps the Decemberists' most personal ever song, 'Rise to Me', an ode to Meloy's autistic son. It's real pretty, and up there with my favourite songs by the band.

There probably isn't a dud on the album, but not really anything else of that power - 'Down by the Water' is a straight-up stomp, while 'This is Why We Fight' is perhaps the closest to an epic, but not epic like they have been epic.

Truthfully, I'm not sure the Decemberists have done a great album, perhaps they've always been a little bit too far one way or the other, perhaps it does sound a little bit too much like a lesson, albeit a very fun lesson.

Their two best are probably the third and fourth, 'Picaresque' and 'The Crane Wife' - my guess is that the latter will be the one most likely to go down as a classic (its being based on a Japanese folk tale does not get in the way of many cracking tunes).

So, I suppose this album represents my non-stop Americana phase, my heavy gig-going phase, it represents how much better the American music scene is than the British. This is the Decemberists' sixth album, the first to reach the US Top 10. Would such a slow-burning success be possible for a Brits? Our good bands need to succeed in the first two and then get slowly forgotten then are utterly on the heap by the time they are the Decemberists' age.

Here would be my compilation

The Engine Driver
Billy Liar
O Valencia
We Both Go Down Together
This Sporting Life
The Crane Life 1 and 2
The Rake's Song
Rise to Me
Yankee Bayonet
This is Why We Fight
January Hymn
16 Military Wives
The Wanting Comes In Waves/Repaid
Sons and Daughters

1973: David Bowie - Aladdin Sane

Listening to 'Aladdin Sane' now, I'm struck by how glam it is. It's a real glam stomp of an album. In that sense it's more of-its-time than a lot of other Bowie albums. In the history of Bowie, though it has its supporters, it's a bit of an in-between album, following two classics, Hunky Dory and Ziggy Stardust, and before his critically acclaimed Berlinny late 70s.

It's something of a sequel to Ziggy, and certainly not dissimilar in sound. It's saved from blandness by a couple of very pretty songs and some fabulous piano by Mike Garson. It's actually a pretty tremendous collection of songs and he couldn't really have done much better in terms of a follow-up to Ziggy. It's neither alienating nor entirely aping.

Really I've never thought all that much of it and chose to write about it almost to damn it with faint praise and perhaps to suggest that Bowie, for all his legend and greatness, never actually came up with better songs than on Hunky Dory and Ziggy. But now, studying it more closely, I'm really impressed. It's kind of a really great album. Or just one song away from it.

What I've always thought, in particular, about David Bowie and Bob Dylan above pretty much all the other legends of rock, is how exceptionally learned, articulate and smart they are, which seems a bit obvious, but I feel like they could have been university professors if they'd gone down that route, which is not something I necessarily feel about say, McCartney, Ray Davies, Neil Young. Bowie's brilliance can almost be a problem sometimes. Perhaps he really hasn't done that many basic, simple, beautiful songs that aren't in inverted commas. Maybe that's why I enjoyed 'Where Are We Now' so much.

Still, this album has one. 'The Prettiest Star' is really a lovely little song, heartfelt and romantic. 'Lady Grinning Soul' is also a pretty song, though more dramatically so, though I think my favourite now, as it's pretty much always been (indeed I think it was my favourite Bowie song in my teens) is 'Drive-In Saturday', which combines great melody and style with keen Americana and a sci-fi element. It's really all there and such an epic. Why it's not considered one of his greatest ever songs I'm not too sure.

'Time' and the title track are the kooky ones, with avant-garde piano, the memorable lyrics and the sense of menace. As for the rest, yes, there's a fair bit of glam stomping, including Jean Genie and a cover of Let's Spend the Night Together which I do think the album could do without.

It's a pretty great album really. I wonder how many people have it as their favourite Bowie album but it's probably quite a few people's second or third favourite. For me, the early 70s is my favourite Bowie time, however influential and brilliant he may have remained later.

Consequently, this is my Bowie compilation:

Life on Mars?
"Heroes"
Drive-in Saturday
Oh, You Pretty Things
Fill your Heart
Young Americans
Young Beginners
Where Are We Now?
Ziggy Stardust
All the Young Dudes
The Prettiest Star
Ashes to Ashes
Modern Love
Absolute Beginners
Moonage Daydream
Changes
Five Years
Sound and Vision
Space Oddity
Can't Help Thinking About Me
Rock'n'Roll Suicide

Oh yes, I like the hits basically!

1970: Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young - Déjà Vu

They weren't the first supergroup, CSNY, but they're probably the definitive American supergroup. Massively successful over there in a way that they weren't quite over here, it's a long and chequered history of egos and excess.

Despite that long history, there's really only acclaimed album released by the foursome - this one. The previous album is also acclaimed, but that was only by Crosby, Stills and Nash, a name that trips off the tongue a lot better, and fittingly so.

Although the name suggests a collection of individuals rather than a group entity, Crosby, Stills and Nash were very much a unity in terms of the beautiful noise they created - arguably, CSN are up with the Beach Boys in terms of great American harmonisers.

Stills had come from Buffalo Springfield (Young was also in that band), Crosby from the Byrds and Nash from our very own Hollies. All were songwriters, all were great singers.

Generally, the personalities are established thus - Stills, leader, doer, great instrumentalist, straight man. Crosby, loon, hippy, drugs and harems. Nash, pop, keeper of peace, sweet. And then, for the second album, Young, dominant, driven, single-minded, songwriter supreme.

There's truth in that. It's easy to dismiss all of them against Young, with Nash often seen as "hey guys, groovy", some kind of transatlantic simpleton and a lightweight compared to the others. Maybe it's just me, but it's often his songs that really hold up, though, poppy as they may be, they're often memorable and beautiful.

For me, Crosby is the least songwriter - some of his schtick is overwrought and weak, like 'Almost Cut My Hair' it's beyond parody and his wailed "Why did they die?" at the end of Neil Young's Ohio ruins a fine song for me

Stills always seems to me the leader, playing most of the instruments, holding it together. I don't have any of his solo stuff, perhaps he's too closely associated with the group.

Anyway, their first album as CSN is really nice - Stills' 'Suite:Judy Blue Eyes' probably the standout, but other great numbers like Marrakesh Express and Wooden Ships. It's a very influential album, defining and setting up that Laurel Canyon hippy vibe for years to come.

Of which, taking a short detour: the end result of that scene was The Eagles. As the Dude so wisely says in The Big Lebowski, "I hate the fucking Eagles, man". That distinction between what's cool and what's not is an interesting one. I could think that I think the Eagles are shitty next to the likes of CSN, Jackson Browne etc, because I've been told so, but actually, I always thought the Eagles were shit, back then they were Number 44 in the Capital Radio Hall of Fame, it's Desperado, Number 12 in the Capital Radio Hall of Fame it's Hotel California.
It makes you realise that some bands are just cheesy and lame where others aren't, and somehow folk can just tell that. They're a bit like the Maroon 5 or Killers of their day - the "indie-rock" band, superficially operating in a style similar to cool, good bands, who have a massive ego and a plan at the centre which you can just HEAR in every note.

Anyway, detour over. Arguably, 'Crosby, Stills and Nash' is a better album than 'Deja Vu;. It's certainly more of a unity, by more of a group. Because Deja Vu to me still sounds like one band and one Neil Young. He doesn't always play, he doesn't always harmonise, he's just there brooding, trying to take over (which, of course, he eventually did).

His songs on the album are great, particularly 'Helpless', one of his all time classics, though I probably prefer the opening number 'Carry On' which really has some of the most wonderful singing you'll ever hear. And i'm a sucker for Nash's 'Our House'.

Without the egos, this could have been one of the greatest bands in history, as it's a phenomenal collection of talent. I suppose Young's talent does dwarf the others, though as I said in a previous blog, I've completely loved Nash's solo album 'Songs for Beginners', written in the wake of his break-up with Joni Mitchell, so some kind of mirror to 'Blue' and it holds its end up.

They all released successful solo albums after 'Deja Vu' - Young's was his big breakthrough 'After the Goldrush' and he hasn't really looked back since, Stills' was self-titled and I confess I haven't listened to it (I should), Crosby's was 'If I Could Only Remember My Name'. Somewhat bizarrely, when I bought a '1000 Greatest Albums of All Time' book compiled by someone called Colin Larkin, in about 1996, he declared that in his own humble opinion (not the listing of the book, which was more scientific) this was the finest album ever.
Baffling, and I was always doubly against it as a result of that over-estimation. Still, listening to it again recently, it certainly sounds beautiful. Perhaps I've been harsh on Crosby down the years, who I've always dismissed as the Alex James figure, the hedonist who overestimates his own talent and wisdom.
Like Nash and a few others, Crosby had a relationship with Joni Mitchell, far be it from me to be reductive about the great talent who dwarfs them all. Many great songs came out of her couplings, anyhow.

So this would be my compilation from all their many incarnations. There's no Hollies, no Buffalo Springfield and no Byrds - there would have been if I'd really loved anything from them enough and I'd known they'd been composed by any of these members.

Still, this is plenty good enough. Young dominates. Just because he does.

Carry On - CSNY
Suite: Judy Blue Eyes - CSN
Simple Man - Graham Nash
Traction in the Rain - David Crosby
Helpless - CSNY
Our House - CSNY
Only Love Can Break Your Heart - Neil Young
Borrowed Tune - Neil Young
Old Man - Neil Young
After the Goldrush - Neil Young
Heart of Gold - Neil Young
The Needle and the Damage Done - Neil Young
Don't Let it Bring You Down -Neil Young
Better Days - Graham Nash
Philadelphia - Neil Young
Wounded Bird - Graham Nash
Rockin' in the Free World - Neil Young
Music is Love - David Crosby
Love the One You're With - Stephen Stills
Like a Hurricane - Neil Young

1979: The Clash - London Calling

Here's an interesting thing about 'London Calling' - it was a 70s album in Britain and an 80s album in the USA, indeed it was Rolling Stone's Greatest Album of the 80s. There really can't have been many great American 80s albums, if their best album of the 80s was a British album of the 70s.

One thing it's not is a punk album, though The Clash were a punk band. The only punk song on it is 'Brand New Cadillac' which is a cover of an early rock'n'roll song.

It's a double album, maybe the very best double album, certainly better than 'Blonde on Blonde', better than 'The White Album' for me. It's more like the Clash's 'Revolver', the apotheosis of their talent, the point where the three strong talents/personalities within the band all had their moment, and the drummer did a decent job too!

Now, The Clash weren't the Beatles, despite certain similarities. Indeed, I think The Clash stand and fall by 'London Calling'. Without it, they're not a great band, with it, they are. This is their glory.

It's a great, great album, because it's an album you can listen to all the way through over and over again. It perhaps flags ever so slightly towards the end, but then comes up trumps with "hidden track" 'Train in Vain'. Like I said, it's anything but punk, it's rock, it's pop, it's reggae, it's comedy, it's Spector, it's powerpop, it's got great song after great song, great sound after great sound, idea after idea.

The Clash's legend has grown to the extent one can overstimate how successful they were. In their lifetime, there were no Top 10 singles, unlike the Jam's four Number 1s, and, yes, they kind of broke America, but not like, you know, Mumford and Sons or One Direction. They've sold a few million records.

Yet, they're utterly beloved, and they're such a good tale. Why are they so loved? Because they stood for something, last gang in town, yadeya, but it's because Strummer was so lovable, really. His voice is so warm and welcoming, sharing his  in-jokes with you, laughing his way through it, he was always like a fun uncle.

One of many reasons why the Libertines, despite doing their best to invite similarities, couldn't touch the Clash in a mllion years is that both their vocalists are weak and dull as dishwater. Strummer's voice was constantly alive, constantly making up for its technical shortcomings.

And it never had a finer vehicle than 'London Calling'. The Libertines tried to get a bit of Clash magic by using Mick Jones as producer - Jones shared production duties on 'London Calling' with a famous mod loon called Guy Stevens, and everyone involved in the album has always been unstinting in stating the importance of Stevens in the magic.

And you can hear it somehow, the glorious mayhem, the endless ideas sticking, the different personalities coming through. How wonderful is 'The Card Cheat', the 14th song on the album, where suddenly they sum up the best of Spector and Springsteen. Where did that come from?

Perhaps this album was The Clash's undoing, as it made them think they could do anything - 'Sandinista' was a triple to follow, and it was just a bit rubbish. Really, this album is a glorious happy accident.

It's sequenced superbly, it bounces off the walls, the six songs from 'Rudie Can't Fail' through 'Spanish Bombs' 'Right Profile' 'Lost in the Supermarket', Clampdown' and 'Guns of Brixton' it just doesn't get much better than that.

And not long till 'Death or Glory', one of their most quotable songs, but how many great Strummer quotes are there?

It's a funny, probably wrong-headed way to look at rock'n'roll but The Clash managed to create something of historical importance here, an artefact for its era to be proud of.

I happen to place it on a high pedestal above the rest of their stuff, so my Clash (et cetera) compilation is pretty dominated by it.

London Calling
I'm So Bored With the USA
I Fought the Law
White Riot
Spanish Bombs
Coma Girl (Joe Strummer and the Mescaleros)
Lost in the Supermarket
Tommy Gun
E=MC2 (Big Audio Dynamite)
The Card Cheat
Rudie Can't Fail
Train in Vain
Safe European Home
The Right Profile
Death or Glory
Redemption Song (Joe Strummer)

1975: Bruce Springsteen - Born to Run

Perhaps I allow myself too many "seminal moments" in my musical life, too many awakenings and turning points. But here's another one, this one not so much about a musical moment, but the awakening of this person, this one right here, who judges and assesses and pores over the history of music, who is obsessed by lists and lineage and grand statements.

I think it was 1994, maybe '93, and the Times (rock'n'roll!!) supplement was running a weekly countdown of the 100 Greatest Rock Songs of All Time. And I'm pretty sure this was the first such list I'd seen, and it was really nicely put together.

At that point, my knowledge was pretty basic, so there were a few I knew mixed in with a lot I didn't. Van Halen's 'Jump' was a surprising entry (damn, they were right about that, though!) and when it came to the top, 2 was 'Like a Rolling Stone' (which I'd never heard) and 1 was 'Born to Run', which I had.

I think I thought, until that point, it was OK, a bit like 'Runaway Train' by Soul Asylum or something but a bit all over the place. But, instantly, enlightened by context and its placing in posterity, I learned to see it as great, I swallowed whole the grand statements of rock criticism. I've found nothing truer that if someone who I think knows more than me tells me something's good, I'm likely to find the good in it. [Of course, it's equally true that I'm very determined that no one should know more than me].

So, that was 'Born to Run'. It's not my favourite song, it's not now even among my favourite songs, but it was the the start of this particular journey in a way.

There is a greater song on the album, of course. Oh, and, goddammit, another seminal moment in this blog. 'Thunder Road' is one of Nick Hornby's '31 Songs' [31 Songs being the trigger for the second major section of this monstrous splurge], and of all of those that he wrote about (and he writes beautifully about it), it's the one I'd most like to write about myself. But, I couldn't really. That would be cheating.

So, this post gives me the opportunity to write about 'Thunder Road' the Greatest Track 1, Side 1 of ... oh I bore myself.
But what a magical song it is. I had a Springsteen compilation tape made for me shortly after that Times list, and it was 'Thunder Road' more than 'Born to Run' that thrilled me.

It's a beautiful, romantic song, which kind of establishes the Springsteen milieu of escape on the open road, of a better life somewhere else, (with the other major milieu being, I suppose, the struggles of staying in the same small town). It's also maybe the most quotable song in the history of rock'n'roll. How many lines leap out from it?

"Roy Orbison's singing for the lonely, hey that's me and I want you only"
"So you're scared and you're thinking that maybe we ain't that young anymore"
"You ain't a beauty but hey you're alright, and that's alright with me"
"Waste your summers praying in vain for a saviour to rise from these streets"
"Well I got this guitar and I learned how to make it talk
And my cars out back if you're ready to take that long walk from your front porch to my front seat"
"They haunt this dusty beach road in the skeleton frames of burned out chevrolets"
and my favourite closing statement
"Its a town full of losers and I'm pulling out of here to win."

Pretty pointless really, picking out individual lines, the whole song seems to pass in one desperate breath. Wonderful.

I don't necessarily have that much else to say about the album 'Born to Run'. I wouldn't say it quite lives up to 'Thunder Road', but it's a grand, influential album, and it was the first major hit for the ageless wonder of rock'n'roll. Truly Springsteen is the hardest working man in showbusiness. Has he ever stopped?

I don't have much time for any sniffiness directed towards him. He's balanced so many different elements so well throughout his career, he can go big or small with equal skill, America is very lucky to have him.

This would be my Springsteen compilation

Thunder Road
Darkness on the Edge of Town
Highway Patrolman
Born to Run
Better Days
No Surrender
Candy's Room
Badlands
The Wrestler
Blinded by the Light
Waitin' On a Sunny Day
Hungry Heart
For You
Rosalita (Come Out Tonight)
Nebraska
The Ghost of Tom Joad
Because the Night
Born in the USA

Pretty good.

Music in 2013

I always come up with an End of Year list of my favourite songs and albums, and always think it gets harder by the year, which may or may not be an illusion.

Still, as I put together this year's list, struggling somewhat, initially, to fill it with songs I loved without measure, I  decided 2013 deserved a little more thought and discussion than just 10 songs out of context.

I've really tried to rekindle my passion for pop music (for what else is there?) this year, after a few years of drifting away not only from any knowledge of the mainstream but also of regular purchases. So, this year, I've bought everything that even moderately piqued my interest, I've listened to the radio, I've even followed the charts a little. I refuse to let myself get old and settle into my tastes just yet.

So, yes, this year the disappointment at struggling to put together a ten song "Best of" was palpable. Are songs just not as good as they used to be, I wonder?

It's not such a silly question, and I think I actually have an answer. SONGS! are better than they used to be, but songs are less good. OK?

It's pretty inevitable that since the SONG!/track became king about ten years ago, since it became de rigueur even for supposed hardened music snobs (like me) to pick and choose songs from albums, that, gradually, even if the artists themselves have fought it (which I expect many of them have) the single song has been honed to a fine art, the cream has risen to the top, and the "filler" has become just that. A great album of 12 songs might have contained 80% songs that at some point are your favourite song on the album. Well, I just do not think that can be the case anymore. There'll likely be three or four that grab you at best. That's the listener's fault and the artist's dilemma.

Let's simplify by talking about rock against pop music, rock, loosely, being album music/guitar music/music I grew up being into, pop music being songs in the charts/electronic music/music I grew up despising. Pop is winning. How can there be any doubt? Has it won already?

When I think of this year in music, I think of songs like Get Lucky and I Love It, I think of Kanye West and Beyonce, they've forced their way into my sphere. My natural taste is for guitar-led Americana, sweet, sad folk music, sharp and smart indie rock'n'roll. And for many years it was good enough, strong enough to resist the invasion of the brash outsiders, I could stay in my sphere and know that, whatever, anybody else might think, I had the best stuff. Josh Rouse, James Yorkston, Brendan Benson, nobodies in the wider music world, but I knew I had the best talent on my team.

Well, I'm not sure any more. Rock has not just lost out commercially, but it's lost out critically too. Kind of, maybe.

Just as I wrote that, I thought "Well, what's actually my favourite song of the year?" and it's the most traditionalist, old-fashioned, hairy piece of west coast rock imaginable.

There's a very basic, harmonious, charming, bland American rock band called Dawes, whose albums I've bought almost despite myself, and I have to admit that a track on their latest album 'Stories Don't End', indeeed the cheesiest song on the album, the egregiously titled 'Hey Lover' (a line that should only ever be said by Bet Lynch with a menthol cigarette creeping out of the corner of her mouth), has given me more pleasure than anything else. It's nothing but an explosion of major key jolliness, which, 2 minutes in, has a really super bit of male duetting, which somehow reminded me of the Proclaimers, Crosby Stills and Nash and vintage Dexys all at the same time, a rare moment of sheer abandon which reminded me that the men with the guitars hadn't given up just yet.

And what's my favourite album? Well, here I'm going with the crowd. Near the top of most of the lists I've seen has been 'Modern Vampires of the City' by Vampire Weekend, and I'd agree that it's the most complete, enjoyable, consistent, clever, thoroughly excellent album I've heard this year. It's exactly what it should be, a very good band getting better, raising their standard on their third album rather than falling away.

In rock/indie terms, they're very successful too, Number 1 in the USA, Radio 1 airplay. But here's a great little article about how, these days, crossover success for rock bands is always relative Reflektor Debuts at #1—But Why Haven't Arcade Fire Conquered the Singles Chart?

Which leads nicely on to the next issue, of hype and disappointment, of things not being as good as you hope they're going to be.

Arcade Fire are a good place to start, with their heavy publicity campaign, their class, their mystique, their (self) importance, and their third dud album in a row. If you're a rock fan, there weren't many bigger releases all year, and the fact that it was being produced by James Murphy really made me think they may nail it this time, but hell no, not another double album! Hell, no, not more portentous yelping! They're turning into a less successful Coldplay, always talking a good game of innovation and reinvention, but hampered by thoroughly marmite lead vocals.

What makes it more annoying with Arcade Fire is that they've got a ready-made lead vocalist in the band, who's the lead singer's wife, and only gets a couple of leads per album, mainly consigned to ego-stroking backing vocals. If there are any big fans of the band out there, I ask you, would they not be a lot better if Regine Chassaigne was lead vocalist rather than Win Butler? Delicate subject ...

Where else disappointment? Well, the year was bookended by two underhyped, then overhyped works, two slick, clever comebacks which appeared on iTunes out of the blue, by Bowie and Beyonce.

Initially, Bowie's comeback was thrilling. 'Where Are We Now?' was the record I dreamed of him making, elegiac and sad, pure and graceful. But the album, 'The Next Day' ... it was, sniff, ok ...
Likewise, as detailed previously, 'Beyonce'  was always going to be the Beyonce album I bought, and it's a tremendous package, again dropped out of nowhere, with a video per song, and thoughtful subject matter and great production. But (and I've only listened to it a couple of times to be fair) it's a little disappointing. It's a little too clever. And it's all very well not having stone cold classic singles if you're not Beyonce, but if you are, they should be statutory.
This modern, spare, ghostly r'n'b/hip-hop is sweeping all before it in critical terms, but it's somehow all a bit tasteful for me.

The same can be said (though it's very different music) of the likes of Mercury fodder The XX and James Blake etc, these dance/indie kids who ought to have the best of both worlds, but are just a little bit boring as far as I'm concerned.

Talking of dance/indie kids, one of the biggest releases of the year was 'Random Access Memories' by Daft Punk, an album I could be sniffy about, but I found myself enjoying it anew yesterday.

It's an odd listening experience, a little empty at times, a little devoid of a centre, but once you're on board with the "mixtape" concept, there's a lot to enjoy, not least the contributions by indie stars Julian Casablancas on 'Instant Crush' and Animal Collective's Panda Bear on 'Doin' it Right'.

But, Jesus, like Arcade Fire, like Beyonce, it's another long, long album. Who's listened to all of it all the way through more than three times? Or do they stop at Get Lucky?

Get Lucky is the "song of the year", of course, despite the fact that Blurred Lines has sold more copies in the UK. It's fine, isn't it? I mean, it's good. Maybe it is just the bassline, but it's as catchy as it gets, and it's not greatly offensive, unlike its main competitor.

Wedding disco fodder, really, but who doesn't like wedding discos?

Blurred Lines is a different matter of course, rightly lambasted by the right-on, a weird combo of R Kelly at his worst with Robert Palmer. First time I became aware of Robin Thicke, which was several years ago, he creeped me out, and the least said about him the better, frankly.

Except he seems to be part of something of a cabal of rich, clever, urbane, not quite young male pop stars dominating the charts and being lauded for their all round excellence. I don't want to lump the like of P. Williams, Levine, Timberlake and Z in with Thicke because they've all got plenty to recommend them, but it's all a bit fuckin smug, isn't it?

And then there's Kanye West, who's been something other than smug this year. This is the year I almost came round to Kanye. 'New Slaves' and 'Black Skinhead' are superficially powerful, almost punk-rock in their anger, but Jesus, Yeezus, it's somehow so unpleasant, the targets need to be spot on to melt under the weight of its own ego, and I just don't think they are. Reminds me of Russell Brand a bit, if you see what I mean.

Well, anyway, there've been lots of pretty enjoyable singles this year, from Daft Punk to Icona Pop and Bastille, to the surprise hit of the year, 'Royals' by Lorde. Is it ok to call a 16 year old smug and self-important though? Am I just going to call everyone smug and self-important? That seems a bit self-important.

Right, so, enough background. What's actually been good this year? Like I say, I've really bought a lot of albums from old favourites to new stars.
The consensus hits of the year are probably Modern Vampires of the City and Yeezus, though the NME went for AM by the Arctic Monkeys which I've got a lot of time for. Mercury went for James Blake, who I find a bit yawnsome, while Uncut went for My Bloody Valentine, who are bit beyond me, really.

Arctic Monkeys are a real old-fashioned band, who go against prevailing trends by releasing album after album with great speed - AM was their fifth in 8 years, and none the worse for it. Maybe some others should try it. Another fast worker is Laura Marling, whose 'Once I Was an Eagle' was her fourth in 6th years. It's a beautiful work, but I've got to be honest, I once again found it too long and short on HITS! [If this all says more about the dulling of my own listener habits rather than an intrinsic failure of the artist, that's rather the point, isn't it?]

A couple of great female alt-country singer songwriter albums were 'Fossils' by Aoife O'Donovan, and 'The Worse Things Get, The Harder I Fight, the Harder I Fight, the More I Love You' by Neko Case, which was the closest contender to 'Modern Vampires of the City' for my Album of the Year.

British troupers still churning out the goods included Steve Mason (formerly of the Beta Band) and the Manic Street Preachers, Camera Obscura, Franz Ferdinand and the Electric Soft Parade. All very decent albums, but beyond the point of gaining any critical hype.

There were quite a few American disappointments, like Iron and Wine, Local Natives, Janelle Monae, whose second album seemed almost an exact repeat of her first stylistically and conceptually, but without the sparks of genius, John Grant, The Strokes and dare I say it, the National. Well, not exactly a disappointment. The National's 'Trouble Will Find Me' is one of my favourite 5 albums of the year, but they just began to show signs of a band past its peak. We'll see.

The thing is none of these felt like truly great albums, albums I'd be listening to in years to come. Would any of them make it on to my Top 10 of 2001 or 2002 list (to me, these were great years for music, perhaps they weren't for you)?

However, one thing that's apparent, contrary to what I said earlier, is that the artists have not given up. They're still trying to make grand artistic statements in album form. Beyonce, Janelle Monae, Laura Marling, Arcade Fire, Steve Mason, Daft Punk, Lady Gaga, Justin Timberlake, all made grand, sprawling works, which they clearly wished to be taken seriously as masterworks.

Still, the essential truth about albums remains true. 95% of great albums are between 10 and 14 songs. That's the form, and if you fuck with it, you'd better be up to it.

I bought around 50 new albums in their entirety this year, but my favourite purchase of the year, somewhat tragically, was 'Songs for Beginners' by Graham Nash, which is over 40 years old and as safe and sensible as they come - just 10 simple songs by a simple man, an unexpected delight from an artist who is usually seen as hanging around greatness rather than possessing greatness himself.

And talking of greatness, the big guns are still hanging around. There's Bowie and his comeback, the Stones headlining Glastonbury, Elton John and McCartney releasing relatively acclaimed new albums, Leonard Cohen and Bob Dylan touring triumphantly, even Joni Mitchell has been seen (briefly) on stage again after a long illness. Easy to fall back into the tried and tested. I first heard 'Blue' 14 years ago and I listened to it more this year than any time since.

Still, I don't suppose there's too much to worry about. Decline needn't be perpetual. Most observers are saying 2013 has been an unexpectedly vintage year in cinema and perhaps 2014 will be in music.

And, look, there has been plenty to enjoy this year. We'll end with a couple of cheerful lists, of Favourite Songs and Favourite Albums etc

20 Favourite Songs (20 because actually when you start looking there's loads!)

1. Hey Lover! - Dawes
2. Where Are We Now? - David Bowie
3. Duet - Everything Everything
4. Steady Pace - Matthew E White
5. Higgs Boson Blues - Nick Cave
6. Sea of Love - The National
7. Pompeii - Bastille (guilty pleasure of the year)
8. The Mother We Share - Chvrches
9. Fight Them Back - Steve Mason
10. Nearly Midnight, Honolulu - Neko Case
11. No Destruction - Foxygen
12. Demons - The National
13. Doin' it Right - Daft Punk
14. Unbelievers - Vampire Weekend
15. Brother, You Must Walk Your Own Path - Electric Soft Parade
16. Another Small Thing in Her Favour - Richard Thompson
17. New Slaves - Kanye West
18. Let the Love In - Josh Rouse
19. I Owe You This - Chad Valley
20 Show Me the Wonder - Manic Street Preachers

10 Favourite Albums

1. Modern Vampire of the City - Vampire Weekend 
2. The Worse Things Get, The Harder I Fight, the Harder I Fight, the More I Love You - Neko Case
3. AM - Arctic Monkeys
4. Trouble Will Find Me - The National
5. Big Inner - Matthew E White
6. Fossils - Aoife O'Donovan
7. Arc - Everything Everything
8. Monkey Minds in the Devil's Time - Steve Mason
9. We Are the 21st Century Ambassadors of Peace and Magic - Foxygen
10. Random Access Memories - Daft Punk

10 Greatest Disappointments

1. The Walkmen splitting up
2. The Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds album
3. Blur not coming up with an album yet
4. The David Bowie album
5. The Haim album
6. The Arcade Fire album
7. Top of the Pops not coming back yet
8. Super Furry Animals not getting back together yet
9. The Janelle Monae album
10. Fence label falling apart acrimoniously

10 Greatest Joys

1. Leonard Cohen live - start to finish
2. David Bowie making a comeback
3. Graham Nash's album 'Songs for Beginners'
4. Listening to the Walkmen constantly
5. James Yorkston performing 'Sweet Jesus'
6. Bob Dylan doing 'Simple Twist of Fate'
7. Interview with Joni Mitchell
8. Youtube clip of Wilco, Mavis Staples and Nick Lowe doing 'The Weight'
9. Vampire Weekend
10. Making my lists

Happy New Year - may it bring a Blur album, a proper classic alt-country album and less self-important pop stars.

And, look, I haven't mentioned Miley Cyrus. What kind of review of 2013 is this?

2002: Bright Eyes - Lifted Or The Story is in the Soil, Keep Your Ear to the Ground

Talkin' New Bob Dylan Blues. Must be hard being a new Bob Dylan.

There used to be loads, from Loudon Wainwright to Bruce Springsteen. There'll be fewer and further between these days, though it's still a term that gets bandied about pretty absurdly. Most absurd? I've heard Irish honkhorn Damien Dempsey (the worst lyricist since Des'Ree) being described thus by Billy Bragg, and I heard Chris Evans describe whiny kid of the moment Jake Bugg thus recently. Seriously?

In recent times, I suppose the best contenders in terms of impact, status and quality, though obviously not style, are Eminem, Beck and this fellow, Bright Eyes, Conor Oberst. He's ended up buckling under the weight of his possibility, but that's fair enough.

This album (let's call it 'Lifted' henceforth) was the first I heard of Bright Eyes, though he'd already released several albums as a teenage wunderkind, and it was my favourite album of 2002. To be honest, though, I'm not sure I've listened to it in its entirety since.

How striking it was though, messy mayhem and lyrical vomit. Taking confession and clever-cleverness to a new level, Oberst's overwrought vocal is an acquired taste (no, not exactly an acquired taste, it's a taste you fall in and out of), the album is full of long under-produced splurges of song and angst, but the tunes and the insights are unmistakeable. There's something of the spokesman-of-generation-in-waiting about it, and it straddles the line between emo, indie and folk.

Some see this as Oberst's high water mark, this and his previous album Fever and Mirrors. After this, he almost hit the big time, and it almost worked, but maybe it broke him.

Next came two albums released on the same day, one in the traditional singer-songwriter style, 'I'm Wide Awake It's Morning', the other more like spare electro-pop, 'Digital Ash in the Digital Urn'. And it was a pretty massive success (comparatively), both making the US Top 20.

Now, I think 'I'm Wide Awake It's Morning' is pretty fabulous, an improvement actually on 'Lifted', and 'Digital Ash ...' has some great moments too. One 'I'm Wide Awake ...' are 'Lua' and 'First Day of My Life' which are love songs for the ages.

'Cassadaga' his next album as Bright Eyes, was an even bigger success, though older fans were beginning to get worried. Still, I love it, especially the first half. It's a really fine country-rock album.

Since then, well it's hard to keep up, really, there's been another Bright Eyes album, there's been an album with Monsters of Folk (a little underwhelming) and several albums under his own name.

At the time of 'Lifted' he seemed to be the head of something meaningful - Omaha and its booming music scene. There were lots of acts working together, collaborating, and it all sounded pretty exciting. Perhaps it hasn't died down at all in real life, it just feels like it has.

Anyway, I'm listening to Lifted right now. It's still heady stuff, if you're in the mood. Oberst's vocal, and his sense of his own importance, is probably the main obstacle to genuine crossover. It can be a turn-off, no doubt.

So, he hasn't been the new Bob Dylan, I suppose. Or maybe he has. It's just not enough people noticed.

Here's a collected Conor Oberst compilation.

When the Brakeman Comes My Way
Danny Callahan - Conor Oberst
False Advertising
Lua
Laura Laurent
Jejune Stars
First Day of My Life
Cape Canaveral - Conor Oberst
Hot Knives
Take it Easy (Love Nothing)
Four Winds
Road to Joy

1963: Bob Dylan: The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan

Regular readers of the blog could almost certainly have guessed both the album and the artist to follow Blur (and not just because I actually told the most regular reader of the blog who was coming up next). There's not much between Blur and Bob Dylan in the alphabet (I'm neither a big enough fan of Bo Diddley or Boards of Canada) and, with the Beatles having already gone, there's really not much else in my realm from 1963.

So Freewheelin' it is. The first great Bob Dylan album. The start of the singer-songwriter. Pretty much the start of everything, albeit 'Please Please Me', the Beatles' debut album, was a couple of months earlier.

Another wonderful wonderful album cover. Young Bob in love with Suze Rotolo, arguably the most important of the many muses throughout his career. What might Bob Dylan have been without Suze Rotolo? One more thin gypsy thief ...

The first Bob Dylan album, 'Bob Dylan', is fine. Some very nice folk covers and a couple of tentative attempts at writing. I don't believe it set the world on fire at the time.

Why did Bob Dylan start writing his own songs? Because no one else had written the songs he wanted to sing.

There is a certain disappointment when one delves into the life and times of Bob at what that "songwriting" often entails. Recently, we know he's been borrowing a few words, and early on, he used a lot of pre-existing melodies. It's no secret, and it's also not true to say that Dylan never came up with any great melodies. As his career progressed, there are many, many melodies of his own, great Bob Dylan songs of all different kinds of styles and patterns. It irritates me if anyone says otherwise.

But 'Freewheelin', great as it is, is basically Dylan learning how to speak his mind over old tunes. The result is several songs which are classics to this day, so not many are complaining.

I think I prefer 'The Times They Are a Changin' which came a year later. It's more austere, more serious, sadder and harsher, but to me the songs are even more breathtaking. On that album, there's 'With God on Our Side', 'One Too Many Mornings', 'When the Ship Comes In', 'Boots of Spanish Leather' and 'The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll' - the latter alone is, to me, one of the greatest works of art of the 20th century, and I'll stand by that.

What's on Freewheelin?  The tracklistin' is
Blowin in the Wind
Girl from the North Country
Masters of War
Down the Highway
Bob Dylan's Blues
A Hard Rain's Gonna Fall
-
Don't Think Twice it's All right
Bob Dylan's Dream
Oxford Town
Talkin' World War III Blues
Corrina, Corrina
Honey Just Allow Me One More Chance
I Shall Be Free

Come on, it peters out a bit, doesn't it? It could lose at least two, arguably four.

But just imagine hearing it when it came out. Especially the first half. Just imagine. There are all the song types which well be the template for his career, in excelsis.

The idealistic, questioning one
The nostalgic, romantic one
The angry one
The richly metaphorical one
The sweetly, slyly, bitterly cynical one
The funny one


They're all there.
I'd been listening to Dylan for maybe a year or two, in the form of a couple of mixed up compilations before I bought this, along with Highway 61, Blonde on Blonde and Blood on the Tracks when I was 18. A favourite can't be picked from these 4, but I think this may have made the earliest impression. I knew the first, second and sixth track already, but they worked far better in their right context.
Don't Think Twice It's All Right was the biggest winner for me, I couldn't believe how pretty it was (here was a particular disappointment when i later discovered it wasn't Bob's own melody).

I did love the two talkin' songs on the second half, Talkin World War III Blues and I Shall Be Free - how fabulously silly, surreal and smartass he could be.

And Masters of War, well it seems a bit basic and unnuanced now, but jeez it was powerful back then when I heard it, so again, just imagine how powerful it will have been at the time.

Perhaps it would be silly to think that "political" "adult" songwriting in the pop charts wouldn't have come about anyway without Bob Dylan, but, you know, maybe it wouldn't. What would have happened to the Beatles? Would they have stayed fun, got boring and would rock'n'roll have died a fairly quick death? It's not a ridiculous question.

This was a cultural phenomenon that did need to gain momentum in the early 60s, it hadn't really gone anywhere for a few years, and this album was unfathomably important in that.

It still sounds great. Just great.

I saw Dylan at the Albert Hall last week. My view was terrible, right in the gods, and so the sound was hard going. He didn't play anything from Freewheelin', sadly, indeed he hardly played anything from the 60s, which is pretty bold. He plays a lot of his recent stuff, and the fact is that's the stuff that wounds best and often gets the best reaction now.
I've seen him play 'Blowin in the Wind'  and 'Hard Rain' and that may be about it from this album. He probably has a pretty good idea of which songs from his back catalogue he can do justice to. These songs deserve to be sung by a young guy with an old voice and an acoustic guitar. 50 years on, it's incredible that Bob Dylan can still perform new songs that people want to hear.

Oh, and I realise I didn't do a Bob Dylan compilation. Got to keep it to 20 songs. I toyed with imposing one from each album but then, how about non-album tracks? So this would be my Bob Dylan compilation, with no restrictions.

Like a Rolling Stone
Lay Down Your Weary Tune
Idiot Wind
The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll
Isis (Live)
Mississippi
Workingman Blues
To Ramona
Boots of Spanish Leather
Visions of Johanna
Simple Twist of Fate
When the Ship Comes In
I Threw it All Away
She's Your Lover Now
Hurricane
One Too Many Mornings
Not Dark Yet
Positively 4th Street
Love Minus Zero
Every Grain of Sand

Something like that, anyway

1993: Blur - Modern Life is Rubbish

This is another wonderful album cover, and the album that is seen in some ways as the "start" of the Blur we know and love and the seminal album of British music of the decade.

Perhaps. Perhaps it's more about what it represents than what it is. It's not my favourite Blur album - 3rd or 4th favourite really. The tale of its genesis, though, is fascinating in itself.

Blur's first album 'Leisure' was significantly more successful in both the UK and the US, but it's also a bit rubbish. There are a couple of great baggy singles, 'There's No Other Way' and 'She's So High' which showed Damon Albarn's gift for pop songs, but it was generally dismissed as copycat trendhopping.

Funnily enough, I do remember Blur on Top of the Pops in around 1991, and thinking they were rubbish, disconcerting and interesting (legend has it they were on ecstasy, which might explain a bit) so I kept a look out for the name. The early 90s was a musical black hole for me, however and if I'm honest, Blur between 'Bang' and 'Girls and Boys' passed me by entirely. Which is when all this stuff happened.

So the story begins ... they had a terrible US tour where they all psychologically disintegrated and fought each other and were ignored and hated their own music and most of all hated America. So they determined to become a proper British band. First up was the single 'Popscene', all stabbing brass, which was a big flop but is now seen as one of the best singles of the 90s.

Then came the recording of Modern Life is Rubbish, which had the working title Britain Vs America. The eventual title is a lot better. Albarn says that the rubbish means garbage, detritus, i.e. the modern world is just the leftovers of the clogged up past. Nice.

Here's an interesting thing. OK, it's now seen as a classic and proof of Albarn's genius in defiance of prevailing trends and the record company, but perhaps that's not the whole story.

Blur submitted the original album and were told it needed more in the way of singles, so Albarn wrote For Tomorrow. Then they wanted another "more American" single so they recored Chemical World.
So, really, who's the genius? Would this be half the album without those two songs, two of the finest in Blur's canon which they still play to this day? OK, Damon Albarn is a magnificent songwriter but it was not his instinct to include the two best songs on the album.

It was still be a good album with a great idea and great theme without those songs and Blur would probably still have gone on to do Parklife because it's not like For Tomorrow and Chemical World were career-boosting hits at the time. But, still, they make the album.

It's funny to think that before Modern Life, Damon wasn't thought of as much of a lyricist. For Tomorrow, the first song on the album, is one of his great tours de force, a lovely splurge of words, a romantic London song which really was the definition of the music I loved back then.

Starshaped is another cracking song (and the name of a mad Blur documentary of the time) and the song which really epitomises the cliche of oompah-loompah gor blimey guvnor Blur is Sunday Sunday - I've got to say I love it.

There are plenty of other good songs on the album, Advert and Colin Zeal and Oily Water etc. Still, few would say they didn't improve on the template with Parklife.

Seeing Blur in 2009 at Hyde Park was an indescribably awesome gig, especially since, for my own sins, I'd missed them first time around. It was a massive gig and it felt like I was part of a generation of like-minded people, which truly is a feeling I've hardly ever had in my life.

Blur were my band like they were for tens of thousands of others, the band that got me into modern music, to indie music, to real music. It was End of a Century, from Parklife, which really did it, I loved the lyrics and the brass. I loved the tracksuit tops. Later on, I loved the guitar, the ideas, the intelligence, the personalities (apart Alex James, who I always thought seemed like a cock, which he probably is, but his book is really a hoot. However, he's done a lot of TV in the last decade or so s if people think he's going to be more louche, witty and debonair than he is. Really, he's just a guy that got oh so lucky).

Albarn and Coxon isn't quite Lennon and McCartney, Albarn is always the major talent, but it's a pretty tremendous meeting of talents and gifts. And the drummer Dave Rowntree is some people's favourite band member, of course, though he probably won't be prime minister any time soon.

Modern Life is Rubbish was apparently born of hatred of both America and Suede. I'd have to be a pretty one-eyed Blur fan not to recognise that Suede's first two albums were as influential or in fact far more so than Blur's. It's a genuinely bitter rivalry, that one, a personal and professional hatred that has never gone away. Well done to Suede for coming back rocking and with some very decent new songs but Blur took it to a significantly higher level as the two bands progressed.

Damon Albarns turned out to be arguably one of the five most prodigious, most varied, most consistent talents in the history of British pop music, and that, more than ambition, concepts and capturing the zeitgeist was the key to Blur's success and influence.

Still, perhaps if Modern Life is Rubbish had been rubbish, they'd have been dropped, split up and he'd have gone straight to making soundtracks for obscure films or something, so thank goodness for it.

Here's a compilation from the Blur members. No Fat Les.

For Tomorrow
Song 2
Popscene
Best Days
Tender
He Thought of Cars
Bittersweet Bundle of Misery - Graham Coxon
A Soldier's Tale - The Good, the Bad and the Queen
Sunset Coming On - Damon Albarn
Under the Westway
Chemical World
This is a Low
Battery in Your Leg
End of a Century
19/2000 - Gorillaz
Good Song
Beetlebum
The Universal
On Your Own
To the End

There were really far too many to choose from. For the sake of one Coxon song and a song from Mali Music, I've missed Badhead and Out of Time. Are there more great combined Albarn/Coxon songs (many Albarn, really) than almost anyone, even Lennon/McCartney?
I think the most amazing thing about Damon Albarn is that he's headlined big festivals with three different, entirely distincts acts, Blur, Gorillaz and the Good, the Bad and the Queen (yes, they headlined Latitude one year i went, not entirely triumphantly, but certainly atmospherically). Four if you count his operas Monkey and Dr Dee headlining Manchester International Festival.
Still, i'd easily swap everything else he's ever done for one more decent Blur album.

1978: Blondie - Parallel Lines

1978, the year I was born, and a classic album cover. What a tremendous concept Blondie was, a punk band, a pop band, a rock band, a disco band, hip-hop pioneers, slick and shiny, grimy and druggy, as a notion they're one of the greatest bands ever. They probably didn't make enough great music to actually be one of the greatest bands ever, but this is an iconic band in the truest sense of the word.

Parallel Lines is considered their one great album, apart from Greatest Hits, obviously, and it's a virtual Greatest Hits in itself.

Like the Clash, Blondie broke down the barriers in the music of the time - it didn't have to be punk versus disco, pop versus rock, style versus success. Rather as I once mentioned with Martha Reeves vs Diana Ross, there's a megastardom Blondie didn't hold on to which means they might play tents at festivals in Suffolk and Madonna never drops below stadium level.

Deborah Harry was/is a star, but always an odd, cult, slightly dangerous one. She's the same age as my mum, already in her mid-30s by the time mega-success came. She dominates the band, embodies the band, of course, but they were always at pains to say they were an actual band. Perhaps they shouldn't have called themselves Blondie then ...

Does one see Deborah Harry in today's female stars? Well, no, not that much, nobody really has that coolness - you just see the grim version of blonde ambition which Madonna co-opted. Both did a fair bit of acting too - Deborah Harry was better but then, again, that's not saying much.

In indie music, there have been a fair few of those female-fronted, male instrumentalist bands - and then, perhaps Gwen Stefani is Blondie's most direct and obvious successor. Not a notion that fills me with great joy.

This is a great album - my favourite track, in fact my favourite Blondie song, is Sunday Girl. No real secret to why, it's just a cool tune. I loved the random French as well, I suppose. Then there's Heart of Glass, their disco pop sensation, which was probably the first Blondie song I heard, on a TV advert for the Best of Blondie. Shortly afterwards, on a school holiday, in dormitories, we listened to an awful lot of that album. Bizarrely, I remember the compliment of the time and place was "raj", and I remember the phrase "Debbie Harry is raj" ... being used. Odd.

It was also rather marvellous that, starting from 1998, they had a whole new career with new material and everything. Maria was a great comeback single and deserves its place amongst their biggest hits.

With Blondie, you can't look too far beyond the singles, I think. This would be my Blondie compilation

Atomic
Rip Her to Shreds
Dreaming
Sunday Girl
Maria
Heart of Glass
Rapture
One Way or Another
Fade Away and Radiate
Call Me
Denis
Hanging on the Telephone
Picture This
Dreaming

Basically, a greatest hits, sorry. With no Tide is High. Because Atomic Kitten ruined it for me.

1983: Billy Bragg - Life's a Riot with Spy Vs Spy

1983's a bit of a funny year, isn't it? Thatcher got re-elected, Thriller had just come out but Madonna hadn't hit yet, the Jam had split up to be replaced by the Style Council, new romanticism was a dominant commercial force, and I, I was not yet conscious. I mean, I was conscious, but I was not conscious that it was 1983. 1984 was my first year of historical understanding. Not much, but a bit, so it's quite hard for me to know what to make of 1983. It seems like a bit of a non-year to me. What were the classic albums? Anyone?

So I've gone for the first album (I say album, it's 7 songs in 15 minutes) by a quietly powerful presence in British music. Bragg's right there at the heart of the 80s alternative, with the famous Red Wedge which famously made absolutely naff-all difference, with that sturdy, strong voice from the left.

30 years he's been doing it, and he's made himself a kind of national treasure, a figure beyond music. Blackwell's, Charing Cross Road, 2001-2, we got a lot of famous folk in - I'll never forget my shock on my first day when Laurence Fishburne strolled in and asked to be directed to the drama section. But in my Social Sciences department, we were never so close to being starstruck, or at least wishing to go up and pat a celeb on the back and say "good on you" as when Billy was browsing the History section. He seems like a good one.

I was listening to this album earlier, and, to be honest, I wasn't enjoying it that much. It's got A New England, which is Bragg's most famous song, The Busy Girl Buys Beauty, The Milkman of Human Kindness, it sets a very nice template for his career, but it's obviously very one-paced and basic. Thriller it ain't.

I was reminded of something Jeff Tweedy slightly churlishly said after Billy Bragg and Wilco collaborated on Woody Guthrie lyrics for the Mermaid Avenue album. There was a bit of tension on the closing stages, apparently, and a falling out, which was least partially repaired. But I remember Tweedy being asked what he'd learnt from Billy Bragg in the sessions and him saying it was more along the lines of what Bragg had learnt from Wilco.

I kind of get his point. Tweedy is a master, a man who has gone from style to style, who creates all different types of songs, creates classic albums, makes strange and daring noises. I can imagine him making the simplicity of Billy's form seem a bit amateurish.

Not to say it was not a fruitful collaboration. There are some wonderful songs on Mermaid Avenue and Mermaid Avenue Vol II. And not to say that Billy Bragg is not awesome, with some awesome songs, but I think a 10 song compilation will be about right for him.

He's an astute, witty, lyricist, but I'm not sure there's that often enough in his songs to get lost in them over and over again.

His career's mainly been on the fringes, not many big sellers. Bizarrely, there's a Number 1 single from 1988, on a Double A side in aid of Childline with WetWetWet - they did With A Little Help from My Friends, he did She's Leaving Home - I've a feeling there's was the more popular number. Apart from that, a few Top 40 hits, Sexuality, Between the Wars, one called Take Down the Union Jack. He's never quite been able to move beyond being a one (no, two, Mr Love and Justice) trick pony.

Still, 1983 felt like Billy Bragg's year to me. The left is coming, I tell you. The left is coming.

Here's a list. Despite whatever negativity I've expressed, I like all these songs a lot, and two or three of them, I like an awful lot.

New England
Upfield
Way Over Yonder in the Minor Key
Brickbat (oh I love this one!)
The Busy Girl Buys Beauty
All You Fascists Bound to Lose
St Swithin's Day
Between the Wars
Waiting for the Great Leap Forward
Greetings to the New Brunette

That's be mine. There should be more like Billy Bragg

2006: Beyonce - B'Day

I'm not going to lie to you, I don't own this album. I wanted to put together a Beyonce/Destiny's Child compilation, so needed to pick an album. So i chose the one with hilarious title, released on her birthday but beloved of fans of posh bathrooms. Also released the same year was 'Respect M.E.' by Missy Elliott, but not sadly 'R's Soul' by R Kelly.

Anyway, the title was a rare misfire for Beyonce, who is by a huge huge distance the great pop star of our age. Who are our megastars of pop? Britney Spears, Lady Gaga, Bieber, Eminem, Rihanna, Timberlake, even maybe Adele. Well, how much better is Beyonce than all of them?

Though still in her early 30s, she's a proper veteran - Destiny's Child's first hit was 16 full years ago, and they were immediately awesome, tight, futuristic r'n'b. And there's barely been a let-up sibce. That's a hell of a career. A hell of a lot of hits. And - perhaps someone can answer me this, what's not to like about Beyonce?

The worst one hears is that she's very focused, very driven, has a big, slightly imposing entourage, but she's pretty much entirely avoided the diva stories, the accusations of unpleasantness, stupidity, talentlessness, wild egocentricity and messiah complex, mentalness that accompany a lot of the biggest stars in pop.

And, sorry to sound like a grandad from Tunbridge Wells, but she's frankly a better role model, whatever the fuck that is, than the rest of these garish goons. She's a pro. She says measured, intelligent things. She doesn't slag people or groups off, ya de ya. I realise there's PR and reality, so I'll stop boring on about all that, and just remember how many awesome songs she's been a part of.

On 'B'Day' there are one or two crackers, including "to the left, to the left" Irreplaceable and Deja Vu (which I actually think is a little bit of a mess).

Being such a fan of Beyonce, I do wonder why I haven't actually shelled out on a full album, rather than the individual songs I own. Is that the essence, for someone looking for a little bit more in their music and believing it really is an art form, of the limitations of pop music? I can't lose myself in it and I don't hear enough different stories. I'll flirt with it then return to my folk, rock, country, whatever.

I do think Beyonce is capable of an album I would love and maybe next time I'll bite the bullet. She is capable of glorious soul music, songs you lose yourself in, she's capable of lots of different textures and moods. I actually think her voice isn't perfect, it's not effortless grace, you can really hear her putting the effort in and it sounds surprisingly shrill sometimes near the top. But, you know, it's a pretty great sound.

She gets songwriting credit on pretty much all her songs - what role she's played one doesn't know exactly but it seems she comes up with lyrics and melodies more than beats and instrumentation. Either way, there's no reason to doubt she's not got a real talent in that area.

There's a song on her latest album, called '1+1' which is quite a spare power ballad, but it really is a thing of wonder, which pushes close to breaking point, but is actually moving beyond what we've any right to expect.

Here would be my Destiny's Child/Beyonce compilation (it doesn't include their work with former Coronation Street star Matthew Marsden in the late 90s)

Crazy in Love (being the best song of the 2000s, according to the NME and pretty much everyone else)
Bills, Bills, Bills - Destiny's Child
Irreplaceable
Single Ladies (Put a Ring On It)
Independent Women Part I - Destiny's Child
Jumpin, Jumpin - Destiny's Child
1+1
Listen
Countdown
Lose My Breath - Destiny's Child
Nuclear - Destiny's Child
Say My Name - Destiny's Child

Pretty damn good that, and there's plenty more where that came from. Beyonce is the outstanding pop artist of our time, and just for once, you can stick your boys with guitars and beards.

1966: The Beatles - Revolver

Right, no fucking about with this one. 1966 - Revolver, The Beatles. If you were to collate all the lists ever of Best Album ever, this would surely come Number 1. Because it's the Best Album Ever, I suppose.
And if it's not the best, no one's going to say it's not one of the ten best.

14 songs, which is quite a lot, but the hits keep on coming. Does anyone disagree with me that it's McCartney's album primarily? His finest hour. His songs on this one are Eleanor Rigby, Here There and Everywhere, Good Day Sunshine, For No One and Got to Get You Into My Life. For me, all of those except are Good Day Sunshine are stone cold classics, in my favourite 10 Beatles songs. Here There and Everywhere is the one Macca consistently says is his own favourite.

Though I'm generally of the McCartney beats Lennon persuasion, there are other Beatles album where I accept Lennon has the best moments and gives the album its heart. I even think Lennon is pulling away on the later stuff, but on 'Revolver', Lennon's stuff is great, Harrison's burgeoning but not quite at its peak. McCartney is at his most beautiful and perfect. And Ringo sings Yellow Submarine. Which is the best you can hope for, really.

I do understand why Sgt Pepper's was for a long time considered the best Beatles album. The concept is dazzling. The package is dazzling. The colours are beautiful. But we all know it's a bit silly, really, and there are really only about four great great songs on it.

Whereas Revolver is just a magnificent collection of talent. They give Harrison the first number, which is nice - Taxman - sounds great, but it's a bit moany. Then Eleanor Rigby, which only suffers because it's the pop song most patronisingly appreciated by dumb classical fans who think pop music actually has to justify its existence to them. Shitbags. Anyway ... it's a good song

As is I'm Only Sleeping. Better than the Suggs cover. Then more Harrison, Love You To. Well, ok, it's not necessarily a classic song in and of itself, but it's a real eye-opener, a real "look what we're doing now" moment. A nice bitter before the sweet sweet of Here There and Everywhere.
Then the heart of the album, with Yellow Submarine, She Said She Said (which sounds better to me now than ever), Good Day Sunshine and one of my favourite ever Lennon songs, And Your Bird Can Sing. 1.20 in "Tell me that you've heard every sound there is ...", that surely is one of the great "Here, this is the Beatles, this is how good they are" moments.
And then, wonder of wonders, For No One. Is this the Beatles' most mature, heartbreaking song? Did it create MOR? Either way,  it's an all time favourite of mine.
Then, a little dip, but perhaps a necessary dip and not much of a dip. Doctor Robert and I Want to Tell You, another one where Harrison is not quite fantastic yet but close enough. You can sense his muse coming.
Then time for the big finish. You can understand why Lennon's Tomorrow Never Knows gets the big finish. The way of the future. The way of the future. I wouldn't say I love it but I do remember how enormously impressed I was in the 90s that The Prodigy and the Chemical Brothers sounded no more modern than it, and it seemed that every strand of successful popular music was in thrall to the Beatles.
But anyway, McCartney's last shot is Got to Get You Into My Life, just as much a drugs song as Tomorrow Never Knows, but couldn't be more different in sound and feel. What a melodic gift he had!
And that's it - 14 songs but only 35 minutes. Perhaps it's not right to call it the perfect album, the best album, but it's surely the perfect "band" album, where there is space for different styles, different personalities, different aims, but it all sits together beautifully.
The debt we as pop music fans have to the Beatles and to this album is immeasurable. This is what gave it the momentum to be what it still is. It's a minor, trivial point, but this album was Number 1 in the same summer England won the World Cup. Was this as good as it got for this little country?

Anyway, I'm not going to write much else about the Beatles. I've heard a bit of McCartney's new album, and it's rather good, sounds like the Beatles, not just a pale facsimile.
Their story is the perfect happy accident - how did it happen that there was not one, not two but three of that amazing, world-changing talent (sorry Ringo) all in that part of Liverpool, all at that time? What are the chances? Seriously, statisticians, what are the chances?

How long should a Beatles compilation be, bearing in mind I'm allowed to incorporate the best of their solo careers too? 100 songs? Maybe 50? Jeez, this is tough.
I'll limit myself to 20, but I'll miss some of the greatest songs ever written, just because of the mood I'm in.

We Can Work It Out (this, by the way, is what I would call the perfect Beatles song. The perfect Lennon/McCartney song, if you will)
Penny Lane
Revolution
In My Life
For No One
All Things Must Pass - George Harrison
I Want to Hold Your Hand
Day in the Life
Drive
You've Got to Hide Your Love Away
Here There and Everywhere
Happiness is a Warm Gun
While My Guitar Gently Weeps
Band on the Run - Paul McCartney
Ticket to Ride
Yesterday
Eleanor Rigby
God - John Lennon
Got to Get You Into My Life
And Your Bird Can Sing

What have I missed? I mean, seriously, the songs I've missed are still pretty much better than every other band in history's career, aren't they?