bandits at 9 o'clock Ginger

Like most of us I guess, music has played a very important part of my life.  I know I’ve blogged in the past about how it is a part of me.

I started listening to old records on an even older mono “Dansette” record player.  It sounded lovely.  Until that is my oft strange parents decided it was better off being burnt on a bonfire.  But I digress.  I used to listen to my sister’s old 45s.  And my love of music, and in particular “Let’s Dance” by Chris Montez was born.

Then one day when in the village shop, I noticed a rack containing bigger records, and with my pocket money I bought my very first LP.  Was this something ultra-cool like most people claim their first record purchase to be?  The Beatles perhaps?  Or the Rolling Stones?  The Sex Pistols even?

No.  I bought a compilation of war movie themes by Geoff Love and his Orchestra.  I loved that album.  I still do.

Shortly after, the record player met its fiery end and I was bought a small Hitachi cassette player and 2 cassettes for Christmas.  The Best of Neil Diamond and “Jazz” by Queen.  I loved them both.  I still do.

After relentless nagging, a new music centre (there’s posh) arrived and more LPs followed.  “Live Killers” by Queen, “Parallel Lines” by Blondie, Pink Floyd’s “The Wall” and something by Deep Purple.  I was by now really into my music and spent all my available pocket money on records and cassettes.  And then Bruce * entered my life.  It was never to be the same.  

I had found what I was looking for.

* Springsteen.  Not Forsyth.