Since today's Father's Day and I don't often praise my Dad (it goes to his head!), I thought I'd swallow my pride and dedicate today's blog post to the man who's responsible for my biggest love in life: music.
This piece first appeared in the My Passion slot amongst the business pages of the Yorkshire Post.
Copywriting is nothing if not fast-paced, so how better to tackle deadlines head-on than by firing up Spotify and hitting ‘Play’ on your favourite music?
I won’t go as far as reckoning I was singing almost as soon as I learned to talk, or tapping my toe in the womb, but what I will say is this: music and me go back a long way.
In the late 70s and early 80s my Dad was a DJ and, when I was old enough, I’d be by his side as he selected the week’s chart hits at an independent record shop called Ear ‘Ere. And in the style of John Cusack and Jack Black’s characters in High Fidelity, the blokes behind the counter could tell you the name of pretty much any song going. Sometimes, all they’d need is a poorly recollected hum of a lyric or two – and lo and behold, they’d be able to place the track and pop it in a plastic carrier bag within seconds.
I have my Dad’s love of music to thank for much of my career to date; without intending to, he’d influenced my tastes – and a lot of what I listen to today is his doing. From the hits of the late, great Bowie, to Cat Stevens, Stevie Wonder, Average White Band and the less mainstream Babe Ruth (check out their track ‘Elusive’!); you name it, I knew the words to them.
Music was such a part of my life that at 21, I convinced the then-editor of a weekly newspaper I wrote for to give me a column talking about – and reviewing – some of my favourite bands. It quickly led to a stint freelancing for NME magazine and I was lucky enough to head backstage at some of the country’s biggest festivals, interviewing the likes of Stereophonics, Bloc Party and Ocean Colour Scene.
Before long, I was promoting and organising gigs myself. And guess who’d DJ at those mini concerts in my small (but musically very happening) hometown of Lancaster? My Dad was the obvious choice, his record collection a real talking point amongst the twenty and thirty-something gig-goers who, like me, loved the chance to chew someone’s ear off when it came to their favourite bands.
While today I’ve turned to copywriting over music journalism, the tracks of my younger years still get me through the day. I rarely go a morning without logging onto Spotify – and while I love that it instantly connects you to the music you love via its handy ‘Radio’ function, you really can’t beat the sound – or the nostalgia – linked to vinyl records. Now, that’s definitely something to sing (or toe tap) about!
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