Back to the 1970's

Last night I was in a restaurant when the DJ in the adjoining bar started playing old 1970’s disco hits and as I listened, I started moving my shoulders in time to the beat, to the point where Mrs PM and her dad noticed.

I am quite self-conscious and giggled nervously before trying to change the subject.  Mrs PM smiled knowingly and then told me that 1970’s Disco Music in coming back.

I’ll take her word for that because I don’t listen to the radio stations that she loves. However, it did transport me briefly back to a time when I first began to take notice of music. In 1970 I was 8 years old and my dad had started to allow me to listen to the radio on my own. Thus began my love of music and if you were to look at my collection these days you would be absolutely amazed at the songs and styles that laid the foundation for my current taste.

Back then I was a slave to charts, which were filled with a huge array of different genres  all vying to rule the musical world, from Disco to Pop, from Glam Rock to Punk, SKA to Heavy Metal, from Progressive Rock to Electropop. I embraced all styles in those early days and my collection reflects that, including great bands and artists such as Abba, Electric Light Orchestra, Donna Summer, The Stranglers, Nazareth, The Sweet – the list is endless.

I thought I would share with you a few of the songs that I loved – and still love today. Bear in mind that these songs all contributed to my love of music and whenever I hear them I think of that spotty little bespectacled blond kid struggling with the pressures of childhood, school, puberty and decisions that would shape my life to come.

Stevie Wonder – Superstition



I’m not a huge fan of Stevie Wonder yet there is something about this song that allows it to fit snugly into my musical comfort zone. The bass guitar throughout has me playing along with my own "air” version as I am trying (badly) to dance to this whenever it appears at a wedding or party. This is easily Stevie Wonder’s greatest song.

Suzi Quatro – Can the Can

I was in love with Suzi Quatro. In 1973 when I was a mere 11 years old I remember seeing her on Top of the Pops and being utterly star struck. Here was a woman who was banging out an amazing song and she was gorgeous too. She even appeared in Happy Days as the aptly named Leather Tuscadero. The show had The Fonz and Suzie Quatro together. They were happy days indeed.

Chic – Le Freak

To me, this is the perfect disco song. It has all of the elements that made the 1970’s disco scene what it was, the elements that appealed to me, from the guitar, violins, lyrics and dance moves. Yes, this is another embarrassing dad-dancing wedding song that I have used to humiliate myself on a couple of occasions.

Focus – Sylvia

My current favourite genre of music is Progressive Rock and when I look back there are numerous bands that fall into this category, some of whom were especially big in the 1970s. Bands like Rush and Emerson, Lake and Palmer broke into the charts occasionally. So did Dutch rockers Focus with this masterpiece that I clearly remember from the mid-1970’s. Progressive Rock has been with me my entire music life and this is one of the earliest examples.

The Stranglers – Tank

I was never really that much into punk rock. Some songs were not bad and really I like the way punk rock evolved through the 1980’s and 1990’s. The one exception is The Stranglers who were my favourite punk rock band of the 1970’s before they changed their style in the 1980’s. Tank is the B side of a single I bought and while it is not that famous, it is a beautiful example of the best bits of punk rock.

Motörhead – Overkill

Okay – there had to be a bit of metal in here to finish off. In the 1970’s I discovered heavy metal and loved numerous bands, any one of which I could have selected as my choice in this genre. Nevertheless, as time has passed, I have become more and more of a fan of early Motörhead and the part they played in shaping modern metal. Overkill is a great example of their early material when the band was at its peak with Lemmy, Fast Eddie Clark and Phil “Philthy Animal” Taylor. I simply love this song.

And finally ...

The 1970’s might not be well liked for political and economic reasons but the music that came from that decade because of the issues shaped the future of music, certainly in my case.

Progressive Thoughts - Day 4

I love the title of today’s song but I must confess to not really understanding it. The song is by one of my most recent and favourite discoveries, a progressive rock band from Poland called Riverside, who have totally won me over in the past two years.

The song is called Lost (Why Should I Be Frightened by a Hat?).

To some people this sums up how strange progressive rock can be with weird song titles and bizarre concepts as subjects. Yet, despite the odd title, this is a beautiful song and typical of the band.

The meaning of the song is, thankfully, not weird at all. Basically, it is about somebody looking back at his younger self and picturing the innocent wonder as the boy contemplates his future life with no fear – only excitement.

I can relate to that.

I cannot remember the thoughts going through my mind as an innocent boy. Some of my friends may ask “Were you ever innocent, Dave?”, to which my answer would be “Of course!”

But as a young child, I cannot confess to ever being unafraid of the future. To be honest, I was captivated by it but also deeply scared because it was all about the unknown. My fascination with science fiction steered my imagination into a vision of the future that was as terrifying as it was amazing.

Back in 1970, most kids were looking at the year 2000 with awe. I used to love reading books and watching TV programmes about what life would be like in that amazing future. To be honest, some of it has come to pass, but equally, one or two ideas from that time are laughable.

For example, we all thought that there would be a Moonbase, like in the TV series Space 1999 and UFO, and that we would be travelling to the outer reaches of our solar system. Also, the vision of orbiting space stations crammed full of people seemed to be a distinct possibility.

Closer to home, we pictured ourselves sitting in futuristic houses, with robots as servants , We would travel around in flying cars and be able to travel to the other side of the world in aircraft that left Earth’s orbit and could, say, fly from London to Sydney in just two or three hours. Furthermore, seers predicted that we would barely have to lift a finger in our own homes, from asking the cooker to prepare dinner and switching things on and off with voice command.

Now these later items do seem possible. Certain people got it totally right, particularly with the prediction that we would be carrying or own computers with us (in the shape of a smartphone) to being able to summon our own entertainment by watching television on-demand from a vast library of movies, TV series and box sets.

I am fascinated by the future and I would love one of two things to happen. Either I somehow become immortal and can watch the development of future technology over the next few hundred years, or somebody invents a time machine that can whisk me away to the future where I can see for myself what happens.

That would be a dream if it were possible.

Of course, depending on your religion, there might be some hope that when I finally shuffle off this mortal coil, I may be born again and enjoy the future that way. Sadly I won’t be able to remember this life – unless technology permits it, of course.

Who knows?

I remain optimistic.

31 Days of Blogging - Day 6

Day 6 – Jean Michel Jarre - Equinoxe Part V



Oxygene was the first song I heard by Jean Michel Jarre and it was totally different from anything I had heard before. In 1978, he followed it up with another album called Equinoxe that completely absorbed me.

At school, my peers were all extoling the virtues of heavy metal and while I also walked that path, I couldn’t help being fascinated by synthesisers.

I heard Equinoxe Part V on the radio and based solely on that first hearing I rushed out and spent my hard earned paper round money on the album.

Nobody else at school seemed to like it at all and couldn’t understand why I had wasted my money on an instrumental album performed by a Frenchman.

I got home with my new album one Saturday afternoon and put it on my dad’s music centre – it sounded magnificent. It was music especially written to exploit the new technology that was available for playing music.

It was even better listening to it with headphones; it had a haunting quality that carried me away to a place free of the trauma and stress that my hormonally charged body was wrestling with at the time.

Academically, life was very tough. There was immense pressure at school to start taking work seriously because, as the teachers constantly reminded us, exam results were seriously important and would shape the path of our lives from this point onwards.

Sometimes it got too much for me – and may explain the reason why I lashed out so much. Not only was the school cracking the whip in terms of school work, I was expected to make choices that would affect my life in terms of choosing subjects for A levels. My dad encouraged me but even he had his own ideas about what I should become.

My dad always knew that I was clever and made sure that I kept on top of my work. He was totally aware of the importance of exams and almost grounded me when it came to revision, making sure that I didn’t waste my time outside when I really should be working towards a fulfilling career.

We used to fall out a lot at that time.

Coming from a working class background made it more difficult. My mum didn’t see my potential and her expectation was that I get as many exams under my belt as I could so that I could leave school at sixteen and start earning a wage.

That’s what had happened in her experience and that was what she was expecting to happen now.

My dad saw the bigger picture and while he had ideas of his own about what I should do with my life, we at least shared a common goal; I would carry on at school to complete A Levels and then see what happened.

Our expectations diverged at my career path. My dad saw me as a manager working at his place of work. I did not want to do that at all. In fact, I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do.

At the time, I thought that the pressure on school kids was too much; not only did we have to work hard to get qualifications that set us up for life, we were expected to make choices that would shape our future – and at the same time had to deal with all of the crap that mother nature threw at us.

It was tough.

I think that some people forget that and the pressure on kids can sometimes be a bit too much. I have tried to remember how I felt at the time and instead of guiding my own children onto a path that I wanted them to follow, I have tried to talk to them about the choices they have.

I hope I’ve helped them and I’ve told them I understand the burden they have, having been there myself – but it is even difficult as an adult because your mind changes and your own outlook on life is wildly different from theirs.

Such was my situation at sixteen. Jean Michel Jarre helped me through that allowing me to escape into my own imagination providing perfect accompaniment on my road trip through my warped mind.

And I think I made the right choices – eventually.

31 Days of Blogging - Day 5

Day 5 – Gerry Rafferty – Baker Street



This song is Gerry Rafferty’s masterpiece. It’s difficult to express how much I love this song. It transcends genres – even my dad liked it. And I’ve even seen the Foo Fighters perform it live on stage in Manchester a couple of years ago.

It is my favourite pop song of the 1970's and that is up against some stiff opposition.

The song is fixed in my mind because it was around at a time when I was changing from a meek little child into a bit of an arse, to be perfectly honest. I was at the age dreaded by parents – fifteen years old and full of hormones and wrath.

I didn’t even know why I was angry – actually I do know.

My school was a grammar school, the only one in Walsall. Some parents desperately wanted their kids to attend because it focussed on “excellence” and “academic achievement”. To qualify for a place, kids had to pass the 11+ exam – I did so with flying colours. If you failed, you had to sit an entrance exam.

It was an all boys’ school (which was a massive disappointment for me) and generally the kids who earned a place came from a more privileged background. I didn’t and it soon became a pain in the arse as kids took the piss out of me for coming from a working class background.

For three or four years, I took abuse from arseholes that called me names like “El Cheapo” and questioned my parents’ wealth, referring to them as “peasants”.

And then something snapped. It was an epiphany for me. I started lashing out at kids and teachers who questioned me. I fought with a bully and made sure he never picked on me again. I started finding myself in detention for calling teachers idiots and refusing to do as I was told.

I actually became a nasty little shit for a while, answering back parents, being very mouthy to teachers and intolerant of all forms of bullying, both verbal and physical. In fact, I started down the road to verbally abusing other kids with no provocation – heading down the road to actually becoming the kind of person I hated.

It was a period of my life when I spent more time in detention than not. I was one of an elite few students who was thrown out of assembly. At the time I was proud of that achievement – I’m not now.

I think I realised what I was becoming when I stepped over the line with my German teacher. He was a really nice guy, one of the teachers who made a real effort. The problem was he was deaf in one ear and he had a bit of a body odour problem – we used to call him Pongo.

I stupidly decided to test a theory I had been postulating – that he couldn’t hear if I screamed in his deaf ear. During the lesson, and urged on by other kids, I screamed at the top of my voice when he passed me, his deaf ear closest to me.

I screamed – “You STINK, Pongo!!”

My theory was partially proved to be correct because my scream was loud enough to echo all around the room, the noise bouncing off all walls and eventually resonating in his good ear. He turned around away from me, thinking that the noise had come from the other side of the class and shouted “WHO DID THAT??”

It was too much – I burst out laughing – and the rest of the class followed. It soon became clear who the culprit was and he turned to me. I expected him to be full of rage and steeled myself for yet another exchange with a teacher where I wouldn’t take any crap at all. I had my arrogant and defiant responses carefully prepared.

But he shocked me.

He wasn’t angry at all.

The look on his face was one of pain and disappointment. He genuinely looked upset. And I was gutted because I liked him.

I meekly said “It was me, sir,” and I got the detention I deserved. After the lesson I stayed behind and apologised. He told me it was okay and that I really ought to stop being an idiot. But I would still have to go to detention.

And I think that was the time I started to change back to being a nicer person. I still held onto the defiance and intolerance of bullies – I needed that – but I chose to use it as a weapon against those people, and not innocent folks like German teachers.

It’s bizarre that a song like Baker Street can evoke the memory of me being a total dickhead back from the depths of my mind – and I wouldn’t really like to associate it with that darkly rebellious period of my life.

Still, it’s good to know that the fifteen year old idiot who almost became a totally rebellious arsehole managed to realise that you get more out of life by being nice to folks.

So maybe the association isn’t so bad after all.

31 Days of Blogging - Day 4

Day 4 – The Electric Light Orchestra – Mr Blue Sky

The Electric Light Orchestra (ELO) were my favourite pop band of the 1970s, the first band I was truly obsessed with.

Once I had bought an LP there was no holding me back. It was much more cost effective than buying singles as you got much more music for your money. So I bought Out of the Blue by ELO, a double album that was sheer genius.

It was a bargain and believe me, as a poor child with only paper round money to sustain my greed for music, I needed bargains.

I was addicted.

And thankfully I had a job.

But there was a cost. It’s a bit weird but most people want to read their newspapers first thing in the morning and unfortunately this meant that I used to have to get up at the crack of dawn. While most people were sleeping I was wandering around the house in a complete daze, fuelled by coffee.

The only other people active were milkmen, postmen and birds waiting to wake up the world with their dawn chorus.

Oh – and my dad.

He alternated with his shifts and when it was a 0600 till 1400 shift, he was up and about at 5 am. He was used to it. I wasn’t.

I used to ask him to wake me up and he did so with gusto. I am certain that he got a kick out of it. At 5am he would march into my room and switch on the light.

“Get up!” he would yell.

My reaction? Hide under the covers.

His answer? March back into the bedroom and rip the sheets off the bed and drag me out by my feet.

It was a ritual that worked with the added bonus that he had made me a strong cup of coffee to kick start my day.

I actually enjoyed delivering newspapers in the early hours of the morning. There was virtually no traffic, no people and utter peace. I was a fit young man in those days and jogged around the streets with my bag full of newspapers. It was really nice to see the sun coming up over the horizon and it gave me a sense of total solitude and blissful tranquillity.

And as the sun rose and the black sky gave way to reds, oranges and blues, I would be whistling Mr Blue Sky by ELO; it seemed apt really.

I was at peace.

By way of comparison, I also delivered the local newspaper in the evening and that was a different experience altogether. Rush hour traffic, school kids and others returning home created crowds in the streets and the noise was deafening.

It was a stark contrast to the calm of the morning as the sun rose. I know which I preferred and if it wasn’t for antisocial hours it would have been the perfect experience.

Sadly, I’ve only enjoyed such peaceful beauty once or twice in the intervening years. I enjoy my beauty sleep too much.

And boy do I need it.

31 Days of Blogging - Day 3

Day 3 – Donna Summer – I Feel Love

So here I am, a rock fan citing a massive 1970’s dance song as a nostalgic memory.

I have to say that I very nearly bought I Feel Love as my very first single, such was my love for the song. The year was 1977 and the synthesizer was just making an appearance.

I was fourteen and music was a very important part of my life. I still didn’t own a single record but I had a great mate who I shall call S whose parents gave him pocket money, which he promptly spent on singles.

Sadly, he didn’t like I Feel Love; he simply wouldn’t buy it.

I had to rely once more on Top of the Pops and Radio One. The song was number one and ubiquitous. What did I like about it? The synthesizers – they were a totally new type of music and I was hooked from the second I heard it.

The guy behind the music was Giorgio Moroder and Donna Summer’s voice added the icing to the cake.

I was past caring what my dad thought about it to be honest but I do have to thank him for two things when it comes to this record.

First, he was a geek and loved gadgets. Although relatively speaking we didn’t have much money, my dad was very careful and saved up for treats. These treats came in the form of holidays and gadgets. In the 70’s he splashed out on a music centre, a combination record player, radio and cassette player with Dolby (I had no idea what that was). All I know is that the sound of the record player was immense and like nothing I had heard before.

Second, my dad actually said that if I bought my own records he would allow me to play them – when he was out of course.

“I don’t have any cash” I wailed.

“Get a job then,” he replied.

So I did. I walked down to the local newsagent and asked about a paper round.

I still remember when that first payment arrived; I was beside myself with pride and rushed down to Walsall to buy singles. I soon ran out of money.

Sadly, I Feel Love was out of the charts by this time so I was quite gutted to be honest – until I spotted Donna Summer’s Greatest Hits.

Can you imagine my dilemma? I had a small amount of money to spend on singles and one of my favourite songs was there in its full eight minute glory on an LP.

An LP for God’s sake. I couldn’t afford that.

I bit the bullet and bought it anyway. Yes, dear reader – my first LP was Donna Summer’s Greatest Hits.

Me, a heavy metal loving progressive rock monster bought the Queen of Disco’s album in the 70’s.

I don’t care – I loved it.

I still do.

It sounded utterly colossal on my dad’s new music centre and I used to play it full blast – when he was out.

This was the first taste of electronic music I had had and yet another seed had been sewn.

Embarrassingly there was another song on the album called Love To Love You Baby that came in at a cool 13 minutes long. It was a massive anthem and I didn’t quite grasp the significance of it until my parents heard it. Basically it consists of Donna Summer groaning her way through a full 13 minute orgasm to the words "Love to love you baby", urging somebody to “Do it to me again and again”.

You can imagine the look of shock on their faces and the look of sheer discomfiture as Donna Summer feigned having sex for 13 minutes with a guy with more stamina than most.

I Feel Love, sadly, became a massive gay anthem for some reason (not sure why) and, sadly, Marc Almond and Bronski Beat destroyed it in the 80’s mixing it with the aforementioned Love To Love You Baby. It was a shame.

I have nothing against the gay community adopting it but I was bitterly disappointed by their cover version.

I’ll finish off by suggesting that you check out the 13 minute sex marathon that is Love To Love You Baby – just don’t play it in front of your kids.

31 Days of Blogging - Day 2

Day 2 – The Sweet - Blockbuster

Blockbuster was my first real favourite song. I begged my dad to buy the single and when I looked into his eyes all I saw was despair, not only at the state of modern music but also at the fact that his eldest son, the boy who would carry on the family name, had succumbed to the death of music (in his eyes).

He wouldn’t buy it for me so I had to make do with snatches from the radio and the rare opportunities we had to watch Top of the Pops.

My mum was beginning to fall in line with my dad’s opinions too. Both of them hated the fact that the band had long hair and wore make-up – something that was wholly unacceptable in my dad’s eyes.

I distinctly remember him referring to them as a bunch of “men dressed as women”, which I found a little hypocritical because he loved the old form of musical entertainment where men like Danny La Rue really DID dress up as women.

The dawning of this song was the first time my dad realised that he was getting out of touch with the youth of the day and his own youth too.

When the song was released in 1973, he was only 26 years old but life was different then; he had three young children and a full time factory job. My mum didn’t work and money was scarce.

My pleas for music fell on deaf ears and not just because of his hatred of the song.

We didn’t have a car or a telephone and any holidays were limited to day trips to Rhyl or Blackpool on a coach, although later we would actually start going on holiday for a week or two to places like Brighton.

My dad’s only luxury was a tiny Honda 50, a little motorbike that got him to work more quickly and conveniently than the buses. We had to travel everywhere else by bus, which was irritating, particularly in winter.

Other kids I knew seemed to be better off. I went to a Catholic junior school in Walsall and since it was one of only a couple, the other kids who attended came from all walks of life. It was during this time that I began to realise exactly what money could buy. Some kids in my school were as badly off as we were but others were spoilt rotten. You could tell at Christmas when the income gap was at its most noticeable. The last week before the Christmas holiday was always spent playing games brought in by the kids. The richer kids had a massive number of games – they were spoilt for choice. Thankfully they were multiplayer and we could all join in.

Around that time we had a school disco. The teachers told us that we could bring in our own records and we would be allowed to dance to them. I had no records. The rich kids seemed to have loads; Slade, T Rex; even the dreaded Osmonds.

I felt a little hurt and several seeds were sown around this time. I would be able to have enough money to buy what I wanted and, perhaps more importantly, I would not look down on others who didn’t have as much as I did. These seeds would grow in the coming years, particularly when I encountered even bigger income gaps when I went to secondary school.

I look back on Blockbuster with a fair bit of nostalgia. I loved the Glam Rock scene; and another seed was sewn, one that wouldn’t germinate for a few years – a love of rock music.

Not something my dad would look forward to at all.