The blog is not being relaunched. I'm reposting this article that I originally published in the very early days of the blog, back in February 2014. Sadly, the subject of this post, my beloved cousin John, passed away at the weekend after a short but brutal battle with lymphoma, aged just 62. This is for you John, the person who inspired me more in my childhood than pretty much anyone, and made me laugh a lot while doing so. Gonna miss ya. x
My
voyage of music discovery wasn’t entirely self-navigated. I was ably
assisted by a number of co-pilots whose input proved invaluable in
reaching my current destination. None more so than my cousin John, a guy
who owned one of the most extraordinary record collections I’ve ever
known.
I used
to love visiting Auntie Margaret and Uncle Stuart; I’d call in regularly on my
way home from school and never once felt intrusive or unwelcome.In addition to their unconditional warmth and
sincerity, the other big attraction for me was John’s records.It was through this horde of vinyl that I
discovered some of the biggest and most influential names in music – the
Beatles, Queen, Bowie, Peter Gabriel, Led Zeppelin – John had a seemingly inexhaustible
supply of rock music which to a burgeoning music buff like myself, was a gold
mine, a kind of exotic array of mysterious curios.
And they
were everywhere.The front room had row
upon row of records lined up on the floor in no particular order (that I could
make out), while upstairs in the attic bedroom was an endless stream of singles
and albums that lit up an otherwise dark and rather dingy area – the perfect
environment for listening to rock & roll. It was there I discovered John’s collection of early Queen singles.To this day, he remains the only person I’ve
ever met to have owned an original 7” of ‘Keep yourself Alive’, Queen’s debut
single from 1973. Wikipedia notes the
single “was largely ignored upon its release and failed to chart”, so it
seems even more unlikely that it should turn up in a sleepy market town in
deepest darkest Devon. Yet I’ve not only seen the proof, I held it
in my very hands, took it home and played it on my record player!
Yes,
John was an absolute music nut like myself, and he took great delight in
nurturing his younger cousin’s curiosity and fascination with rock music. I remember him playing me Led Zeppelin’s ‘In
Through The Out Door’, Kiss’ live double album ‘Alive II’, singles by the Cars,
KC and the Sunshine Band, John Lennon. I
remember coming across the word ‘Motown’ for the first time when a compilation
album in one of the piles caught my eye. The B-52s debut was another intriguing and hugely influential find – I’d
never come across that sort of skewed quirkiness before. But the very best thing of all was that John
had no qualms whatsoever about lending me records. There were times I would leave the house with
a carrier bag crammed so full of LPs and singles, my arms felt like they were
about to fall off by the time I got home.
John and his record collection were my keys to the world of rock music. Guitars
were the only real way forward for the young Robster, and I’ve never
looked back.
John’s still buying music. Much of his old collection is gone sadly, but
these days he scours charity shops and car boot sales in search of obscure and
undiscovered gems. It doesn’t seem to
matter what it is – classical oddities, film scores, long-forgotten crooners of
the 60s and 70s – it’s music he’s after, because music still clearly means a
hell of a lot to him.
I owe
John a great debt, he inspired me greatly in my formative years and I still
listen to a lot of the stuff I discovered thanks to his generosity and
patience.
And
while his rendition of the Rolling Stones’ ‘Brown Sugar’ on the karaoke is
totally rockin’, you really haven’t seen anything until you’ve witnessed John in
skin-tight leopard-print trousers belting out ‘Do Ya Think I’m Sexy’ – ‘tis
truly a sight to behold. Rod Stewart? Pah! Give me John any day!
