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Gravity - Live at the Nokia Theatre, Los Angeles, CA - December 2007John Mayer One of my favourite songs of all time. It’s one of those songs where you find yourself wishing you could hear it again for the first time. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of it. Some songs are good, some are favourites, and then there are a handful that you just consider untouchable. This song somehow feels incredibly simple on the surface but carries so much weight. The live version makes it even better. His guitar playing, the crowd, the little changes in his delivery and the emotion he puts into it all give the song a life of its own.
Taj MahalJorge Ben Jor Some songs don’t need you to understand a single word to fall in love with them. Taj Mahal by Jorge Ben Jor is a perfect example. It’s the rhythm, the infectious guitar, the percussion and, above all, the voice. There’s an almost effortless happiness to the whole thing. It’s ridiculously catchy, and I find myself getting carried along by it every time. I think it’s a lovely reminder that language barriers don’t really mean much when it comes to music. You don’t necessarily need to understand what’s being sung to appreciate the feeling behind it. Sometimes the melody and the delivery say everything you need to know. Of course, most people will probably recognise it through Rod Stewart’s Da Ya Think I’m Sexy?, which famously borrowed from the song. But, as is the case with plenty of music, the most popular version will never necessarily be my favourite. I’ll take the original every time.
You Stole My Money HoneyStereophonics This is another one of those songs I never seem to get tired of. It doesn’t need a particular occasion or even the right mood. It works just as well on a summer drive as it does beside a fire in November. A proper all-seasons song, and one I suspect I’ll keep coming back to. There are some songs that seem to work whatever the season, and this is certainly one of them.
Come Get To ThisMarvin Gaye There’s something about this song that I think is becoming increasingly rare in music. It’s a song about love. There’s nothing particularly complicated about it. Just a simple and genuine feeling of affection, warmth and wanting to be close to someone. There’s an element of sexuality to it, of course, but it feels grown-up, effortless and romantic rather than crude or purely lustful. It’s flirtatious without trying too hard, and sensual without ever being explicit. It’s got that timeless quality that makes it difficult not to love. The sort of song that feels effortlessly romantic without trying too hard.
good timeJunior Mesa Some songs you find yourself liking for reasons that are quite difficult to explain. This is one of those songs. There’s something about the beat that immediately draws me in. It’s got a really infectious rhythm, with a certain bounce to it that reminds me, in some ways, of Michael Jackson’s music. Not necessarily in how it sounds exactly, but in that same effortless, feel-good quality that makes you want to move along with it. This was a song I came across by chance. I first heard it whilst riding around the city on my bike. There’s something about having a song like this playing as you make your way through the streets. Passing people, weaving through traffic, watching the city go about its business. It somehow makes even the most ordinary journey feel a little more exciting. I don’t think every song needs to remind you of someone or something, or carry some particularly deep meaning.
GoldDerby There are nights when sleep just doesn’t seem to come. Tonight is one of those nights. I lie awake tossing and turning, going over almost every part of my life. Every mistake I’ve made, every conversation I wish had gone differently, every decision. It’s strange how the mind can hold onto things you thought you’d long forgotten. But it’s not always regret. Somewhere amongst all the second-guessing, I find myself remembering the things I got right, too. Little moments, decisions and experiences that I’m perhaps not always quick enough to give myself credit for. I think that’s what this song reminds me of. Those long nights spent looking backwards, trying to make sense of everything that’s happened, both the good and the bad. It’s a strange feeling, being both your own harshest critic and, sometimes, your own biggest supporter.
The RoadDanny O'Keefe Some songs have a way of making two places feel like one. I would put this song on with my mum and we’d dance around the kitchen. Like with many of my memories it felt rather ordinary at the time but has becomes something quite special looking back. It’s also a song that connects my parents’ home with my own. I can be hundreds of miles away, in a completely different place, and somehow it brings me back to that same feeling of being at home. It reminds me of something my mum would say: that whenever I look up at the moon, she’s looking at the very same moon, wherever in the world we happen to be. However far apart we are, there’s something we’re still sharing. I think that’s what this song does for me. It makes distance feel a little less significant. It reminds me that home isn’t necessarily a place; somewhere you have to be. Sometimes it’s a person, a memory, or even just a song playing in the kitchen. I guess wherever the road takes me, there’s always a little bit of home coming along with it.
NutshellAlice In Chains I remember walking up the hill behind my house in the autumn rain, listening to Nutshell by Alice in Chains, shortly after my granny had died. There’s something about that particular memory that has stayed with me. I can’t remember exactly what I was thinking about, or even where I was going, but I remember how it felt. It’s strange how certain songs become attached to particular moments in your life. Years later, you can hear just a few seconds of one and find yourself walking up that same hill again, in the same autumn rain.
Meet Me On The CornerLindisfarne I used to whistle this song sitting on the back of my dad’s bicycle. I remember being told to sit up straight and smile, otherwise I’d look like I was being kidnapped. A fairly reasonable concern, I suppose, but a funny instruction to give a child enjoying a bike ride. It was on these rides and drives home from football practice that I heard his stories about going to see Lindisfarne play in Newcastle at Christmas. I like that the song connects two different childhoods: his memories of being a boy going to gigs and mine of sitting on the back of his bicycle, singing along. Somehow, a song has become a little family heirloom, carrying memories that existed long before I did.
Road RageCatatonia There’s something strangely comforting about a song that sounds like it understands a frustration you can’t quite put into words. Road Rage has that feeling. It carries an almost restless energy, a mixture of frustration, melancholy and defiance that makes you want to turn the volume up and disappear into your own thoughts. I love how it captures the feeling of being fed up with everything, yet somehow finding a little freedom in that feeling. It reminds me that not every emotion needs resolving. Sometimes you just need to sit with it, let the music play and enjoy the chaos for a while. My parents used to play this song for me and my sister on long car journeys. Growing up in a household of rules, strict manners and an almost constant reminder to be polite, Road Rage felt like a little act of rebellion. For those few minutes, we could shout every word, be loud, be obnoxious and let everything out without getting into trouble. There was something wonderfully freeing about having permission to be a little unruly. Looking back, I think that's why the song has stayed with me. It takes me back to being a child in the back seat, feeling like the world was ours for the length of a song.