15 albums that ‘changed my life’

Here’s some load of old bollocks I did on FB a little while ago, if anyone’s interested…

1. “Now That’s What I Call Music Volume I” (1983-85 – not the year of release but the year it ‘changed my life’ [groan])
Music started with my parents’ records, and perhaps more specifically the compilations my dad would make with his Tomorrow’s World-esque reel-to-reel system… But I do remember enjoying the pictures inside the gatefold sleeve of this and several songs on it (“New Song” by Howard Jones, “Safety Dance” by Men Without Hats) will immediately transport me back to my middle-class suburban childhood.

2. “Graceland” Paul Simon (1986-87)
The first album I ever really loved in its entirety and again something I discovered through my parents. At this stage I was regularly digging around their vinyl collection for stuff to play on my own turntable and stumbling across gems like “Sgt Pepper’s” and “Oh What A Night” by Frankie Valli. “Graceland”, though, was special, and when I hear any song from it now I think about the Mexico 86 World Cup, Panini stickers, Garbage Pail Kids and summertime.

3. “It Takes A Nation Of Millions To Hold Us Back” Public Enemy (1989?)
I listened to this on my walkman ad infinitum on at least two family holidays and can still recite most of the lyrics today. I was into this around the same time (or maybe slightly later) than I first got into house; my friend Robert Graff and I would listen to 7-inches of S’Express, Coldcut, Bomb The Bass etc that his brother owned. I also cherished a great cassette called “Rap Trax” which had some belters on it by people like EPMD, Boogie Down Productions, Run DMC, and I would love a copy of that now. If you’ve got it, let me know.

4. “State of Euphoria” Anthrax (1990)
During my childhood I flitted quite a bit between metal and hip-hop and during a phase of liking one I would always deny liking the other. Weird really. After my Public Enemy period I got into metal quite heavily (sorry), especially groups like Iron Maiden and the hard US stuff like this. I bought this album on vinyl after getting the track “Now It’s Dark” on a flexi-disc free with Kerrang! (I think) and I still like the sound of most of it now. In 1990 I would see Iron Maiden and Anthrax at the Birmingham NEC in my first ever gig.

5. “Paul’s Boutique” Beastie Boys (1991/92)
Back to hip-hop, and another album which was never out of my walkman during my early years at Duston Upper. Better writers than me have written better things about “Paul’s Boutique” so I’ll just say I think it’s probably the most inventive, innovative and greatest album of all time. (I especially loved “Car Thief”; when I was 13, and today).

6. “Nevermind” Nirvana (1992)
This is probably going to be on the list of everyone who does this. I hate using the word ‘our’, because it’s the kind of thing The Sun does, but for people my age this is ‘our’ “Sgt Pepper’s”. I didn’t really buy into the whole ‘fresh and new’ thing because a lot of what I was listening to had a similar feel to it, this just took it to a new level in terms of brilliant songwriting. I first heard it on a coach going to France for our school’s French exchange and thought it sounded like white noise, an opinion swiftly dissolved after a few listens. It will always remind me of that trip, it will always remind me of that period of my life. It’s a really special album and I still listen to it now even though I actually like “Incesticide” (and possibly “In Utero”) better, and they certainly did a lot better songs than “Smells Like Teen Spirit.”

7. “Suede” Suede (1992/93?)
Nirvana quickly got hijacked by lots of dickheads and if you know me you’ll know I hate anything when it gets hijacked by lots of dickheads (or becomes popular, you choose). It was around this time I started buying the NME regularly and getting interested in ‘indie’ (I hate that term but I’ll use it here for ease). I liked Suede not just for their songs but also for their artwork, which was quite clean and precise and appealed to my burgeoning habit of collecting CDs. “Suede” is the first album I can remember buying on the day of release; my dad took me to Spinadisc and waited outside while I went in and got it, for £9.99.

8. “The Queen Is Dead” The Smiths (1994)
Another very obvious one but this really was the soundtrack to my final months at Duston and therefore, I guess, the first phase of my youth. I can’t really remember when I got into The Smiths; my neighbour Dale lent me a ‘best of’ some time around this period but it was really only so that I could tape “Panic” off it and hand it back to him. Maybe when you’re 15 you don’t find The Smiths, they find you. That sounds really wanky but what other explanation is there for skinny kids everywhere seeking out some long-defunct band? Word of mouth? Surely not. Discovering The Smiths is a religious experience. Nothing is ever the same again. This is my favourite album of all time and probably will be forever. The first half reminds me so much of taking my GCSEs and being besotted with Katie Reynolds and I can’t hear “Cemetary Gates” without thinking about the day I walked down Berrywood Road for the last time, having just sat my final exam (German – I got a D), leaving everything I knew behind.

9. “Bona Drag” Morrissey (1994-95)
For a long period at the start of studying my A levels at Booth Lane I tried to convince myself of two untruths. The first was that I had made the right decision in leaving Duston Upper and the second was that Morrissey’s solo stuff was as good as The Smiths. The jury’s still out on the former but the latter… what was I thinking? Maybe I was just desperate for more of The Smiths and I guess that’s understandable. When something’s good you just want more of it, you don’t want it to be over. I didn’t want The Smiths to be over, so I settled on the next best thing – cassettes of “Bona Drag” and “Your Arsenal” borrowed from the library. I still like them, though and think “Piccadilly Palare” is a pretty good song.

10. “Parklife” Blur (1995)
The first album I loaned to a girl to try to pull her (Alex, Media Studies). A Blur album really has to be in here somewhere, and if truth be told I was probably listening to “Modern Life Is Rubbish” more than this but it is very ‘of the times’ and I can’t hear “Clover Over Dover” without thinking about long Friday lunchtimes at The Clicker and pies from The Oven Door at Weston Favell Shopping Centre.

11. “Searching For The Young Soul Rebels” Dexy’s Midnight Runners (1996/97)
When I first started going out (ironically with mates I’d made at Duston Upper), it was in Northampton and usually to the Newt & Cucumber for £1 any drink night, then onto Hanrahan’s, then Madison’s, where they would play modern indie (Oasis etc) and older stuff like The Who and The Rolling Stones. Somewhere in me this set off an exploratory spark and I started raiding back catalogues of groups like The Jam, The Clash and The Stranglers. They all mean a lot to me, especially “Setting Sons” by The Jam, which nearly got this slot. But this Dexy’s album – and the song “Keep It” in particular – will always remind me of pulling competitions with Paddy, Mr Acaster’s Kebab Shop and throwing tables in rivers.

12. “Dig Your Own Hole” Chemical Brothers (1996/97)
I fell in love with the song “Setting Sun” while working at Burtons warehouse on Brackmills at Christmas 1996 and played the album to death the following summer. Like others on this list, this album is more a flag bearer for my interest in a certain genre. In 1997 I started to get back into house – I even went on holiday to Ibiza! The interest was maintained when I arrived at University, where we made regular trips to Essence in Nottingham and Dazza Norris made me a couple of tapes but it’s not something I’m really into now. This is still a good album, though. I like “Piku”.

13. “The Stone Roses” The Stone Roses (1997/98)
I was trying to think of an album which encapsulates that triumphant first year of University and this was the best I could do. In those days I think I was more about odd songs (“How High” by the Charlatans, “A Thousand Trees” by Stereophonics) than whole albums, mainly because I couldn’t afford to buy them. The only other one in the frame is “American Pie” by Don McLean, and thinking about it that’s actually a strong contender. But I’m going with “The Stone Roses” because the song “Bye Bye Badman” reminds me of lying awake in my bed in my little room at Clifton campus, half-cut from a night out at Shipwrecked and just incredibly happy. I’m not going to think about it too much, though, because I’ll start welling up.

14. “Harvest” Neil Young (1999/2000)
I think by this stage my life was as formed as it was going to be by music. I was 22 by the time I finished university in 2000 and I knew what I liked. This album (and its contender for this spot, “Dark Side of The Moon”) really reminds me of driving to Newmarket in my sister’s banged-up Mini, and I guess that was really an end of a specific chapter in my musical history – the one where songs are associated with girls. There won’t be any new additions to that section. Well, if they are, I hope they’ll be ones I associate with my daughters.

15. “Selling England By The Pound” Genesis (2008)
Leaving a gap between 2000 and 2008 in this list makes it seem like I don’t listen to new music, which couldn’t be farther from the truth (although while writing this, “Death Magnetic” has segued into The Go-Betweens on iTunes). It’s just that no new music is affecting me. When you’re a kid music genuinely changes you; I’m not sure it does as an adult. Getting married changes you. Having children seriously changes you. Music? Not so much. But having said that, I absolutely love this and believe my existence is the richer for it. It also proves that I am gradually turning into my father, whose records I was listening to in 1983 and way back at the start of this note. The circle has turned full. Thanks for reading.

Colin Calderwood, true professional and absolute gentleman

The two words players who worked under Colin Calderwood during his Northampton era used the most were ‘professional’ and ‘gentleman’.
He could afford to have a professional approach – few managers before or since have been able to have the luxury of a full-time goalkeeping coach and a specialist fitness coach freelanced in for pre-season, let alone the budget to pay for all of them (and the entire squad) to use an elite training camp in Austria for 10 days.
The gentleman comment relates to how he was with the players on a personal level. He very cleverly bridged the gap between being their boss, their colleague and their friend, being close enough to earn their trust but not too close that it reduced the respect they had for him.
Among us press boys he was well liked, too. In the build-up to one big game, he made the national journalists wait while he spoke to the local lads, his view being that our presence at Sixfields every week made us more important. Small touches, but they all helped.
He was always immaculately turned out, wore sharp suits that looked expensive but casual at the same time. In presentation terms, he was first class and he had plenty of natural charisma but was not always the charming young manager some felt.
At Doncaster Rovers’ old Belle Vue ground one night, he almost kicked a hole in the dug-out after losing Marc Richards to a bad injury and falling behind to a soft goal.
And on one occasion he telephoned me to give me an earful of four-letter words after I linked the club with signing Sean Dyche. His view was it would unsettle the players currently in the squad whose contracts were coming to an end and who were worried about their futures. That was Colin, protective of his players even when he had made up his mind that he wouldn’t be keeping them.
History will, I feel, judge him to be a successful Northampton manager, even if he had two huge factors going for him before he even took the job.
Having been brought in to replace Martin Wilkinson in the autumn of 2003, he discovered a squad full of quality players who were never going to be moulded into a cohesive unit by Wilkinson, who was always more of a scout than a manager.
Wilkinson, with an eye for talent and a free rein over the club chequebook, brought in serious attacking talent like Martin Smith and Josh Low, as well as spending big at the back on players such as Ashley Westwood and Peter Clark.
These players would carry the team to the play-off semi-finals in Calderwood’s first season in charge, although they would fail to reach the final after a hugely controversial second leg at Mansfield’s Field Mill.
They perished at Southend again the following year but on both occasions they met sides packed with class. Mansfield had Rhys Day, Lee Williamson and Wayne Corden. Southend were even better – they had Adam Barrett, Spencer Prior, Kevin Maher and Freddy Eastwood to name just four.
But even though they were up against class teams, they still showed a weakness for big games under Calderwood. In his first season they won well at Rotherham to set up a home tie with Manchester United but a brain freeze by the manager saw the side line up in a totally alien 4-5-1.
They lost the game 3-0 and although a defeat was almost a certainty if they had been more attack-minded, it should be noted they hit the woodwork three times in one of those ‘what might have been’ afternoons.
The game at Mansfield taught Calderwood a valuable lesson. Of the starting 11 that night at Field Mill, only two were signed by the Scotsman – Eric Sabin and Rob Ullathorne. Des Lyttle had been jettisoned after the final game of the season when it became clear Josh Low could play right wing-back but Calderwood was onto something with such signings, even though it took him some time to work it out.
The basis of the promotion-winning team two years later was experience. Quality players in the twilight of their careers (Ian Taylor, Eoin Jess, Dyche) were snapped up and moulded alongside more traditional lower-league players (David Hunt, Scott McGleish) to take the side up.
At a dinner at the end of that season, a video aired on a big screen that, for want of a better description, openly mocked every member of the squad. Westwood, whose injury problems at Sixfields remain the stuff of legend, was depicted as Professor Stephen Hawking. Luke Chambers was Shrek.
It was pretty unsubtle stuff but illustrated how perfectly Calderwood struck the balance between giving the players enough free rein to enjoy themselves without it ever bordering on taking the piss or that thing Calderwood hated more than anything, a lack of professionalism.
That summer he was hot property and I rang him in Dubai to inform him Ipswich were interested and to get his reaction to it. It made for a great story, and it was really good of him to take my call and give me some good quotes.
But then, he was a gentleman after all. Even if he did bugger off to Nottingham Forest a few weeks later.

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