SONGS AND SCRIPTS AND DUNKING BISCUITS

All of us, myself included, to some level like to cultivate a musical identity that is eclectic, knowledgeable and a little edgy.

Oh we’re in sync with what is happening right now. Too right we are. We may not like it, we may not get it, but we like people to know we are aware that it’s a thing.

Electro-fusion-pop-what? Ice-rock-synth-eighties-retrorap-classic. Really? Metal-mix-pot-alt-country crossover who? Do we get a doggie bag with all that?

We have our streaming platform sorted. We may nod sagely at new artists, we’re aware of Sabrina Carpenter even if we can’t name more than one of her tracks. Our playlists may include Mitski (top Indie band of 2024, but you knew that, right?), be peppered with a little Arctic Monkeys, Hozier and Tame Impala.

Or maybe you’re too clever to be dragged into all that nonsense. Maybe your tastes are ‘classic’ artists for whom cool is part of their musical DNA – Dylan, Leonard Cohen, Billie Holliday, Floyd, Aretha, Willie Nelson, Johnny Cash. And on vinyl, of course, and none of that bright shiny over-priced new vinyl taken from digital recordings anyway. All our albums are weather beaten, have six different kinds of bacteria on the sleeve and have what some may call scratches but we refer to as battle scars.

But what if when we’re alone, when no-one is listening in, when no-one is watching, we like to go rogue. What if we like to indulge ourselves in something others would consider as irrelevant, musical pap. Something we know we shouldn’t like but just makes us feel good. Guilty, but a nice, naughty guilty.

This is my musical confession time. Here are my top three , totally uncool bands/artists that I listen to but wouldn’t normally share with anyone. Here are what many would consider to be musical sins, but they are sins I don’t intend to shed.

FOREIGNER

Foreigner are so uncool, I would be hard pressed to ever hear them on any radio station, particularly here in the UK. Real rock fans would never have them in their collection, they would look down their incense loaded noses at a band they would probably consider as pop. Foreigner fall between so many musical stools they may as well stay on the floor where most feel they belong.

They don’t possess the sex appeal of Bon Jovi, the laddish blokes-next-door-done-good credibility of Def Leppard, they don’t have the dirty son-in-law from hell vibe of Aerosmith or have the dues paid reputation of Van Halen.

But they could write a tune could Foreigner. I would argue they could write a tune better and more consistently than any of them. And in Lou Gramm they had a hugely underrated lead vocalist who’s soul-tinged voice could hit a ballad better than any and still have a rock edge to satisfy.

‘Feels Like The First Time’, ‘Waiting For A Girl Like You’, ‘Urgent’, ‘I Wanna Know What Love Is’, ‘Head Games’, ‘Cold As Ice’, these are, in my opinion, brilliantly crafted rock songs which admittedly aren’t musical Shakespeare, but many in their field would struggle to replicate. Hard but clean guitar, great choruses, and they resisted the tendency to litter them with self-indulgent guitar solos.

Simplicity in song writing is so hard to master and Foreigner knew how to do it. Inane lyrics, but I don’t care belting them out when driving. It may only be a once-a-year indulgence, but I do love a bit of Foreigner.  So there.

GLEN CAMPBELL

Glen Campbell came into me and my sisters lives via our parents who were big fans. Back then in the 1970’s Glen came to epitomise a musical genre known as ‘Easy Listening’. You’d find an endless stream of artists in this section of a record shop and I have no problem with the genre, some great artists got lumped in there.

But none greater than Glen. Glen was a fantastic guitar player who earned his crust in the early days playing on a endless stream of big hits from artists such as Cher, Frank Sinatra and The Beach Boys. Glen however had something more special again than an ability to quickly know what was required from a studio session – he had an insanely fabulous voice.

Glen Campbell’s voice could soar with a purity and a power that was instantly recognisable. He knew how to interpret a lyric and his partnership with song-writer Jimmy Webb was legendary, both able to feed off the others individual strengths, bringing a stream of hits in the 1970’s that stand the test of time. ‘Galveston’, ‘By The Time I Get To Phoenix’, and the peerless ‘Wichita Lineman’.

‘Wichita Lineman’ can still move me emotionally after five decades of listening to it. It represents better than any other song that restless, ever-moving spirit of the US of that period. It has had books written about it, and has influenced many artists of different genres. It is one of the greatest songs, and the greatest contemporary recordings, that I’ve ever heard.

Towards the end of his life Glen’s albums featured covers of songs from The Foo Fighters, Green Day, Travis, U2, Tom Petty, and were tremendous. His ability to make any song sound like a Glen Campbell original is staggering.

His right-wing politics aside, I’ve always got time for Glen. I managed to see him twice in concert, and each time was a treat.

BREAD

Of my three guilty choices Bread is probably the least well known from anyone born from 1980 onwards, and also from some may have the least credibility.

They are spurned when people talk about the great groups of their period, despite their many hits. Bread didn’t trash hotels rooms, have tabloid reputations, or hang around with their contemporaries much. They didn’t have an image, though some consider them twee.

But I just loved their song-writing. Their melodies we simple and fabulous. In James Griffin and Robb Royer they had two fine song-writers but constantly existed under the shadow of David Gates who penned most of the bands hit’s ‘Make It With You’, ‘If’, ‘Baby I’m-A Want You’, It Don’t Matter To Me’, ‘Guitar Man’ and more.

But my favourite David Gates song is the wonderfully moving ‘Everything I Own’. Written for his late father, this song was murdered by Ken Boothe and chopped up and put in a bin bag by Boy George, neither of which I can stand to hear.

The original however, feels as touching and as beautiful today as when I first heard it in my early teens.

So there you go, my favourite musical guilty pleasures.

Are they really that bad? Maybe you were expecting Boney M. Billy Ray Cyrus? Right Said Fred? Or maybe they would be your guilty pleasures. Go on tell me, I won’t share, I promise.