If it's not Broken

I finished Broken Greek over the weekend - Pete Paphides' utterly enchanting coming of age memoir. It documents Pete's first 13 years (1969-1982) growing up in Birmingham with his Greek Cypriot parents and older brother, Aki. 

Set against a backdrop of down at heel chip shops and prepubescent anxiety, his early childhood is soundtracked by anyone in the charts (even at such a tender age his knowledge of the hit parade is encyclopaedic) he feels could step in to the breach as replacement parents: one of his many anxieties (and a recurring theme in the book) that, in his eyes, he wasn't living up to his mum and dad's expectations of him. Being glued to Top of the Pops from the age of seven his first musical love, Eurovision winners Brotherhood of Man ("I felt they understood me - the kind faced blonde woman & the only slightly less kind-faced dark-haired woman") seemed like ideal surrogates should his parents ever give up on him. As did Abba. And Kiki Dee ("You could tell she was a nice person, not least because of her immense generosity in letting Elton John join in her song.")

As he moves through school and different friendship circles and as his addiction to record shops becomes all consuming, so Pete's musical palette widens - forays into the Barron Knights (one of the books many highlights) and Racey give way to a new post punk crowd - the Human League, Orange Juice and Dexy's Midnight Runners all fight for ownership of Pete's turntable and all are written about with such love and affection - his homily to Kevin Rowland is particularly moving. By the end, you'll probably begin to see your own interest in music as merely pedestrian by comparison - I know I did.

A huge thank you to Pete for personally signing my very own book plate. And thanks for a riveting read.

Thank you @petepaphides
The signed bookplate arrived this morning!
Stay safe and hopefully see you @FiveLeavesBooks #Nottingham in the not too distant. pic.twitter.com/cZEuh9YdQ5

— John Medd (@JohnMeddUK) March 17, 2020

Mono = One, Rail = Rail

For no other reason than it made me smile, I ordered this tee shirt online today. I realise that precious few people will get to see my new garment - let alone the gag - however, I shall wear it with pride when I am in my kitchen; or even the lounge.

I know I should probably have waited till it arrived - I could have given you all a twirl - but we'll save that delight for another day, shall we. For any non-Simpsons people tuning in, here is the backstory behind the design.

It's a Nice Day to Start Again

My friend Holly Taymar is not only a fabulous musician (solo and as one half of the Bronze), but also - her actual day job - a tireless fundraiser for Mind. During this current incarceration Holly has been presenting her unique Lockdown Jukebox (read all about it here): for a modest donation to a vital and respected mental health charity, Holly will sing you a song - any song - and post it on her Youtube channel along with all the other jukebox selections which have ben pouring in over the last couple of weeks or so.

I asked her if she'd curl her top lip and 'have a go at Billy Idol...'

Holly Taymar & Chris Bilton - White Wedding (2020)

Antisocial Distancing

I don't really know how best to describe life at the moment; to say 'it's a bit shit' doesn't quite cut it. Being holed up for the best part of 23 hours a day is tortuous at times, but, it's better than the alternative. This somewhat crude image shows in rather bleak terms the worst case scenario if you play fast and loose with your personal space. And, of course, other people's. Wooah! Back off!

Who would have thought that just a handful of weeks ago a simple walk to the shop is now every bit as nerve-racking as traversing a Falklands minefield. What price that tin of beans?
So, be careful out there. One minute you're cock of the north, the next you're in an ICU ward plugged in to a Dyson ventilator. Honestly, you couldn't make it up.  

Buzzcocks - Walking Distance (1978)

Listen!

A friend of mine from Scotland emailed me this morning: a Corona catch-up, if you like. In my reply I rather ramblingly told her what my coping mechanisms were. I won't bore you with them here; anyway, regular readers could probably figure out most of them for themselves.

However, I forgot to tell her about Tim's Twitter Listening Party The idea is simple: every night during at 10pm during Lockdown the Twitter community listen to an album in its entirety. The sessions, overseen by Tim Burgess, are curated in real time by band members who provide intimate insights into the making of the albums and answer questions posed by those 'in the room'. I've done two so far - Jollification (Lightning Seeds) and Steve McQueen (Prefab Sprout) - and I found them totally uplifting. For what it's worth both these long players proved to be very poignant in my life around the time they came out - 1994 and 1985 respectively. Ten year cycles and all that.

A complete list all of future runners and riders can be found here and the link to Tim's Twitter feed is here. I can't recommend the project highly enough. And even if you don't own hard copies of the albums, just hook up your Bluetooth speaker to Spotify at 22:00 and you're good to go!

Prefab Sprout - Goodbye Lucille #1 (1985)

In 1985 I was still known as Johnny; this song followed me everywhere