“Something old, something new, something borrowed …

[Ponzio]

… something blue and a silver sixpence in her shoe”.

And so goes the old English nursery rhyme, concerning what a bride needs on her wedding day. I’d like to translate that into what every music collector needs in his/her musical library. Post an album/song that you feel should be in their collection and why, with a rating system based on the amount of good/great songs on an album and the impact its had on our culture and in our lives.

My first choice is the theme song from one of the most critically acclaimed films of all time, The Third Man (*****). Anton Karas’s zither playing is mesmerizing throughout the film and sets the tone for post-war Vienna and the transient nature of good vs. evil. This is the British single, released in 1949, in tandem with the movie’s premiere. As my comment on YouTube states, “before one dies, he/she should hear this song once. If not, I would assume it's on the playlist on the way up ... or down”.

 

[Alex2507]

I don't know about anybody else but I think I was changed by the rendition of Singing in the Rain in A Clockwork Orange. Due to the violence and nudity I chose not to provide a link.

Another tune that I took note of at a young age was given new perspective due to Chris Rock and Scatman Crothers.

Being a serial cynic is it's own reward.

 

[ImcLoud]

Every collection should consist of...

The Beatles: Revolver - 1966 (Full Album. 2009 Stereo Remaster) - YouTube
pink floyd the wall full album - YouTube

there are a few others too, like bob dylans highway 61 and blonde on blonde, rolling stones Exile on main street, and the Clashes Londons calling


I guess you can call all of them old though, I don't know of any new good albums, lol... Nirvanas Nevermind {still not really new, I think it was 91}, I still enjoy Roger Waters amused to death {think that was also 91 or 92} so for new maybe some of the green day stuff, Eminem had a couple good albums but if you own one you own them all, scott stapp with creed the first 2 albums where good but I haven't listened to them i a while..

I am at a loss for something new, I like Amber Rubarths stuff, fiona apple, ect but nothing that i think is going to be epic and stand out 40-50 years from now...

 

[Ponzio]

there are a few others too, like bob dylans highway 61 and blonde on blonde, rolling stones Exile on main street, and the Clashes Londons calling

that's a great start

the list is endless and personal. I'm not looking to do a top 10, to the island scenario poll ... BTW if your stuck on the island, you gotta take Marley, right? ... but music is all about memories, your memory. Something that instantly brings a specific image of that day, what time of the day, weather. I hear this and voom, I'm a 12 year old caddy at the country club, it's July and it's hot. This is playing in the background ... it literally put's a complete living memory right in front of me.

 

[OKLAGMCRUISER]

My first CD was a gift from my parents for Christmas many years ago. it was Louis Armstrong's What a Wonderful World. I still have it and listen to it on occasion. It takes me back usually to that Christmas morning nearly every time.

 

[ImcLoud]

My first CD was a gift from my parents for Christmas many years ago. it was Louis Armstrong's What a Wonderful World. I still have it and listen to it on occasion. It takes me back usually to that Christmas morning nearly every time.

how old were you?

 

[OKLAGMCRUISER]

how old were you?

I was 15 at the time...around 1989 or so, if I remember correctly.

 

[ImcLoud]

Man I would have been pissed if my parents gave me a Satchmo cd when I was 15.. Sure I love jazz now, but at 15 I was not "into" jazz and I always loved music, but it was more like Pink floyd, ac/dc, Jethro Tull, Beatles, Bruce, Bob Dylan, ect... I now love jazz Ornette COleman, Miles, chucky Mingus, Lee Konitz I have at least 20 playlists of all different moods of jazz, named from "Smokey bar room" to "lets dance and cry"

 

[OKLAGMCRUISER]

Man I would have been pissed if my parents gave me a Satchmo cd when I was 15.. Sure I love jazz now, but at 15 I was not "into" jazz and I always loved music, but it was more like Pink floyd, ac/dc, Jethro Tull, Beatles, Bruce, Bob Dylan, ect... I now love jazz Ornette COleman, Miles, chucky Mingus, Lee Konitz I have at least 20 playlists of all different moods of jazz, named from "Smokey bar room" to "lets dance and cry"

I hear ya, but I guess I'm different. I loved it and still do. It was one of a group of CD's they gave me, which also included Genesis "Invisible Touch", The Nylons "Perfect Fit" and a few others, I can't remember off hand. But the LA was my favorite. A few years later I purchased Bela Fleck and the Flecktones that is also still in my listening collection.

 

[Ponzio]

Elvis “Schmelvis” Presley, my a$$!!!

His ability to take any or anyone’s song and make it his own is unparalleled. You can call Elvis the King of Rock ‘n’ Roll … but not in my world.

Rock on Killer!!!

 

[Ponzio]

The importance of being 16

I turned 16 in 1971 and the world became my oyster.

Upon turning 16, I passed my driver’s license test 3 days later; thanks to my best friend, who was 17, I had a car to practice with, prior to the test. My father was away in Sicily, visiting the family, so I was able to present a fait accompli when he returned. Again my father was faced with a strong willed boy in another battle of wits. He announced that it was all fine and good that I had a license but was saddened that I wouldn’t be able to continue practicing my new found skill, since driving his car was out of the question and he couldn’t afford to buy me one, never mind the insurance. I had my own surprise announcement, anticipating this response, that I had the funds for a car and two years’ worth of cash reserves for the insurance policy. I had been working since I was 12 and squirreling half of my pay in the attic. The other half went to my parents, who unbeknownst to me were banking it for me. As far as I was concerned I was just an indentured servant with no bill of rights. One advantage of having immigrant parents was that I was for all intents and purposes the family’s accountant, legal advisor, translator & general troubleshooter. A crash course in adulthood, you might say. My poor parents, they didn’t stand a chance. So what does a smart a$$ kid of 16 buy? Of course, a used Ferrari red (Regimental Red) 1967 Pontiac GTO sports coupe with a Hurst dual-gate shifter. Yeah, baby!!! Whad’ya think, Dad? Horrified but helpless, he signed off on it. But since self-control is not a known affliction of 16 year olds, I proceeded to join in the local informal drag racing ring and in 3 weeks, blew out the engine during a race (sigh) … I was unbeaten in 7 of 8 races and made a tidy $140, minus the last race. Dad, bless his soul, neither gloated nor lorded it over me but he let me know I had forfeited my right to pick my next car with my moronic actions. Hard to fight that logic. So what does he pick for me … with my own money!!! … a 1970 Pontiac Ventura. I begged, pleaded, threatened … anything, anything but that Dad!!! … but it was all to no avail and unless I had plans to spend the weekend in the emergency room getting my jaw wired, I better get on board with the program.

It was in this depressed state that I walked into the Wee Three Records shop. I asked Larry, my own personal music advisor at the time, if anything new had come in. Larry whips out David Bowie’s Hunky Dory (***********) and announces, “This is it, buy it”. Up to this point Larry has never steered me wrong but I really had my doubts after I saw the album cover of the only other Bowie album in the shop, The Man Who Sold The World, and I’m looking at a guy reclining on a sofa in a dress. Sheepishly I said, “ahh, Larry? This guy looks like a queer”. Larry responds nonchalantly, “probably, what’s the big deal?”, and before I can respond he walks away to another customer. Uh, Larry, can I listen to it before I buy it? Clearly annoyed, he bellows back, “No, I’ve only got 3 copies. Now leave me alone”. Larry would have never made it in the diplomatic corps or the best dressed list that year or any other year for that matter but he had great taste in music and who was I but a dumb 16 year old kid with a repulsive Pontiac Ventura. So I moped my way home, fire up the Sony receiver, turn on the Dual turntable, put on side 1 and “Changes” come on … changes indeed … and the hits just keep coming. But when this came on … my fate & life were sealed ... Thanks Dave and let's not forget Larry.

 

[Ponzio]

Well this died a slow death. Audiophiles, huh? Doesn't that mean you have to listen to music to enjoy your hobby?

What was I thinking?

 

[defmoot]

It's audio-equipments-holics. Which is cool, because NTTAWWT.

Seriously, I wanted to contribute to this thread but after some thought I decided that listening to music in your own home is such a personal experience that I'm hard pressed to pick something that would be universally relevant. The enjoyment of music is emotionally driven, which complicates things even further in my view. I can talk about things music endlessly, but I'm not sure anyone would care.

Having said that, I enjoy your recollections quite a bit.

 

[afterlife2]

Sticking to the main theme.

 

[Alex2507]

Tail end of 1980 I was 15 and in Calgary. Had a learner's permit and my sister was getting married in New Orleans. Me and my brother drove down in his Mustang II. He had taught me to drive stick and on that trip he taught me how people were suppose to drive 'on the highway'. Of course we had a CB radio as well.

A few years later I had a Yamaha Maxim 550 and a g/f. We lived about an hour north of Calgary. I got my hands on a Walkman for that ride into town. The last time I listened to that Walkman, Billy Idol was cranked. I remember looking down to where I had the Walkman clipped onto my weird zippered thigh pocket only to see it come unclipped and smash onto the highway, exploding into few pieces. I stopped and retrieved the Walkman with the battery cover gone for good and the hinge busted on the cassette door. I think a car had flattened out a battery for me. The Walkman it turned out still worked once a buddy of mine got his hands on it but it had a few scratches.

 

[Ponzio]

Thanks guys ... this is exactly what I was trying to elicit from everyone. Music is such a personal thing and at the same time universal. I want to hear both types. Be it a life changing moment in your own personal life or a group memory that brought you closer to feeling an affinity with others.

Keep the stories coming ...

 

[defmoot]

Well, crap.

If we're gonna go all anton karas/graham greene and bachman-turner overdrive then I'm in. Slow on the uptake, I guess.

Eighteen and one-half years ago my friends and I threw a small party for the upcoming birth of the first child of some dear friends. Good food and great drinks were the order of the evening. Later, a 55 gallon drum-fire, cigars for the guys, and control of the cocktails to the girls set the backyard afire. The musical hit of the evening, even for a bunch of self confessed music snobs, the disc that knocked everyone out to the shouts of "encore, play it again," was the wonderful 1956 release of Sinatra's songs for swingin' lovers!. It's entirely upbeat, with many definitive versions of classic songs. Frank's voice is awesome, and the Nelson Riddle Orchestra delivers perfect, accomplished accompaniment. Elvis was the defining moment of 1956, but this record is solid gold.

Dig it.




.

.

 

[Ponzio]

I’m 13 years old and sitting at my desk at Holy Saviour’s RC Elementary school surreptitiously listening to my transistor radio, with a single ear bud, to a local radio station (WIBG), while Sister Mary Amabalis drones on about Archduke Franz Ferdinand & his assassin Gavrilo Princip. Normally I’d be all ears but I know and have already read exhaustively on the subject, so I have no fear of the upcoming history test or a pop quiz. All of a sudden Jimi Hendrix’s Crosstown Traffic comes on for the first time in my life and the internal beat box in my head turns on and shoots straight into my feet & hands and I’m playing in rhythm to the song, on my desk. The song is so good I have completely forgotten my surroundings and make like I’m Charlie Watts on drums. That is until Sister Amabalis physically shocks me into reality with an open palm whack to the back of my head. The whole class is howling with laughter and this Amazonian visage is towering over me demanding that I stand up and give a summary of what happened in Sarajevo.

Mildly disoriented and embarrassed at getting caught, I gather my thoughts, rise and slowly regurgitate the facts on Franz & Gavrillo and why it led to WWI. Instead of appeasing her, she only becomes more furious and lashes out at the rest of the class for being complicit in my deviousness and a pop quiz will commence. My classmates want to flay me alive and Sister Amabalis notifies me to see her after class to retrieve my radio and review my upcoming punishment.

I ace the test, do my hour of detention, which consists of me packing up books for storage and getting Medusa like looks while she shakes her head in frustration with me and finally a reminder that this was the first day of a 2 week detention and what did I have to say for myself. So I mumble an apology for disrupting her class and inquire about getting my transistor radio back. Oops! It seems I have further aggravated the beast. She shoves the radio back into my hands, barks that my detention has been extended to 3 weeks and she would appreciate it if I got out of her line of sight. Clueless to the dark clouds gathering above me, I meekly ask for the ear bud to my radio. Like a gazelle, she springs up out her chair, with this serpentine smile and hisses, let’s make it 4 weeks detention and have one of your parents call in on me at the school, during normal school hours.

The beatings and detention were all well and good but a meeting with one of my parents is tantamount to a death sentence, since neither could afford to take time off from work. I quickly shove the radio & associated ear bud back on her desk and beg & plead and promise not to ever do this again and she can extend my detention to 2 months. Satisfied that she has my full attention, she gives me a partial reprieve on the issue of having one of my parents come in and my 4 weeks of detention would be revisited in 2 weeks if I behaved accordingly.

Some songs are more memorable than others.

 

[IanU]

Gospel

I heard a lot of gospel growing up, while my mother is not very religious, this was her favorite music when I was little.
I still love this one by sister Rosetta Tharpe: Up Above My Head.
And check out her guitar playing!
[video=youtube;Ls53x9nybec]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ls53x9nybec[/video]

 

[Ponzio]

My first run in with Shane MacGowan’s lyrics & music by the Pogues was in 1988, by way of the If I Should Fall From Grace With God (***********) cd, on the recommendation of the Repo Records store owner. At first listen it’s no more different than the polka/mazurka’s I grew up with in Sicily as a young boy and Shane’s vocals can be likened to the mumblings of an old rummy on a bad day. Luckily for me and his audience, someone was wise enough to include the lyrics. Profane, comical, divinely cursed and inspired, mind numbing sadness, joyously happy … a living embodiment of the Irish soul thru the ages.

Thanks and praises
Thanks to Jesus
I bet on the Bottle of Smoke
I went to hell
And to the races
To bet on the Bottle of Smoke
The day being clear
The sky being bright
He came up on the left
Like a streak of light
Like a drunken feck
On a Saturday night
Up came the Bottle of Smoke
Twenty fecking five to one
Me gambling days are done
I bet on a horse called the Bottle of Smoke
And my horse won
Stewards inquiries
Swift and fiery
I had the Bottle of Smoke
Inquisitions and suppositions
I had the Bottle of Smoke
Feck the stewards
A trip to Lourdes
Might give the old feckers
The power of sight
Screaming springers and stoppers
And call out coppers
But the money still gleams in my hand like a light
Bookies cursing
Cars reversing
I had the Bottle of Smoke
Glasses steaming
Vessels bursting
I had the Bottle of Smoke
Slip a fifty to the wife
And for each brat a crisp new five
To give me a break on a Saturday night
When I had the Bottle of Smoke
Priests and maidens
Drunk as pagans
They had the Bottle of Smoke
Sins forgiven and celebrations
They had the Bottle of Smoke
Feck the Yanks
And drink their wives
The moon is clear
The sky is bright
I'm happy as the horse’s shite
Up came the Bottle of Smoke