Desert Island Discs

People often talk about the books they would save or take with them if they were stranded on this proverbial desert island. Despite the fact that books consume no power I still think it's a stupid thing to save or cling on to. Re-reading books is no good. The pleasure is reduced everytime. Just how much enjoyment could you get reading the same five books over and over? Not much I expect. That's why I would take music instead, and assume this island had a reliable power source (maybe Hydro Electric because they usually always have a cascading waterfall) and the plane that crashed had allowed me to check-in a semi-decent amplifier, CD player and pair of speakers. Anyway, to the point. The five albums I'd have with me, knowing they'd bear up under the closest scrutiny and still remain great albums, and most important of all, still be enjoyable (and comforting) to me on the thousandth playing (and in all cases, probably already have):

(In no particular order because even picking five is hard enough.)

1. Low by David Bowie (1977)

Low hasn't always been a great album. When it first appeared the critics weren't sure - since "the critics" love to follow popular trends. Only in later years did they rewrite their history (and reviews) and give it the good old "5 out of 5" it deserved. I always knew it must be great before I heard it. Just look at that sleeve: it's orange and forboding, and Bowie is looking to his left. It's called "Low" so he's obviously been feeling moody. Oh, and it's the first of his Eno Trilogy. It's not even a very long album but it's very special and in my extremely humble opinion, it is easily, by far and away, and without a shadow of a doubt, the best thing he ever produced. It doesn't matter if you don't own ANY other Bowie, because Low is the essence of Bowie and this album is a true album and does what an album should do, and already I can find myself listening to it over, and over, and over. So along it comes.

(Personally, I have the vinyl cover stuck to my wall for mental inspiration and enjoy the sound of the 24 bit CD remaster.)

2. Remain In Light by Talking Heads (1980)

Those of you in the know (out of my Facebook friends I actually think that numbers just two) will have spotted that Brian Eno has already helped to produce two of my choices. Well, so be it, because his sound is very special and suited to the mythical isolation associated with being stranded far from home, forever. Remain In Light is an easy choice, I admit. But it's my choice and not some magazine or journal's. I loved this album as soon as I heard the opening of the first song, and it was a crusty record shop guy that thrust the vinyl into my hand after, once again, that sleeve had piqued my interest. If you are partial to complex layers of sound, cutting edge techniques and all kinds of African rhythms blended with Byrne's isolationist themes and lots and lots of percussion, then you'll know what I mean. It's so damn clever; it's anything but simple. When I listen to it I am still struck by how amazing and perfectly balanced it sounds. How they throw so much sound in and get something so ordered and melodious out. Everything clanks and clicks and ticks and tocks. Drums here and there, chanting, lead guitar, electronic whirrings and buzzes - except it goes somewhere, from start to finish. I also can't think of a more fitting song than Listening Wind to being stuck somewhere and trying to contemplate what the hell is going on.

3. Disintegration by The Cure (1989)


I've already been through a period in my life when I listened to this every day for at least a month or two, so I know already it can be used over and over again when I'm very sad or very happy - I'm not sure which one I'd be if I was stranded on a desert album without ever having to see people again (Ha. Yes I do know.). The Cure have gone off in recent years, and even in their prime put out a lot of 'questionable' material. Pornography is awesome, but doesn't seem to be the complete picture in the way Disintegration is. Usefully, it also fills an entire CD, without filler, so I'd be entertained for 74 minute chunks of my limitless time. Disintegration never seems to get the recognition it deserves. It's so damned good that it defies explanation. It's both soft and hard, fast and slow, and unlike early Cure, it doesn't get bogged down in itself. If only they'd made this their swan song.

4. The Smiths (1984)

I have to have a Smiths album in here, because they are my favourite band of all time (yeah, above Joy Divison). So I would probably go insane a lot sooner without some Smiths on hand, and out of their four albums, this one has the highest proportion of my favourite songs. Also, none of their many compilations contain some of these favourite songs. Quite simply, I needed some Smiths, so this is the one. Choice picks personally: You've Got Everything Now about those people we always hated at school and Accept Yourself: how do I feel about my shoes?

5. Script Of The Bridge by The Chameleons (1983)

Quite a fantastic album, and being reminded about Middleton is a minor drawback. I was going to for Loveless, an oft-maligned piece of guitar noise that most people consider no better than Metal Machine Music, but then I realised that I just like this album more, and I couldn't be bothered explaining for the 17th time how the noise masks the subtle melodies. This is The Chameleons first, and best, album. A band, that if we base fame purely on talent, should have been way bigger than U2. This album could easily play like a Greatest Hits, such is the quality of every single song.

Apologies to: The Clash, Joy Division, My Bloody Valentine, The Beatles and Pink Floyd-- Wish You Were Here came very close.