I’VE always loved music that was generally more popular before I was born - or I develop a soft spot for it at least ten years after it was in the charts.
I love Motown, eighties pop, rock and roll, nineties Indie pop, I happen to believe Billy Joel’s ‘Piano Man’ and ‘Scenes from an Italian Restaurant’ are possibly two of the greatest songs ever written, and think anyone who doesn’t jump out of their seat and head for a dance floor when they hear the first few bars of ‘Come on Eileen’ and Barry White’s ‘You’re the first, my last, my everything’ are frankly mad!
The only exception to this rule has always been Take That..I was there at the start, proposed to Mark Owen via letter at the impressionable age of ten, was mortified when Robbie left, distraught when they broke up - and of course delighted when they made their triumphant return to the top in 2005!
Of course with age comes wisdom, and I have - in the 20 years that have since passed - now withdrawn my undying devotion to Mark Owen and made the sensible decision to transfer my affections.
Privileged to have been to see this wonderful specimen of a man many times before, and looking ahead to another encounter this April with my lovely ladies, I’m not sure whether this allegiance will ever fade.
I sense that, just as my dad follows Ralph McTell religiously - these days to slightly more intimate venues like the Newark Palace Theatre and the Buxton Opera House - I will similarly be calling Laura and Tracey in 20 years’ time to arrange such escapades, perhaps with a civilised afternoon tea beforehand!
True love never fades, so I’m afraid I am destined to make sure A Million Love Songs is the last song I ever hear, and Do What You Like is the last music video I ever watch.
Goodnight Wembley!
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