A coach journey through the Alps that lead to an epic musical journey.

Whenever I would pop in to see my grandmother in Glasgow’s West end, when I was a student and happened to be wearing something she hadn’t seen before, she would inquire – presumably unimpressed – “is that the fashion?” and I would repeat to her that I had no interest in fashion. A current fashion is to post ten favourite albums, films etc. on social media and say nothing about it. Just post the cover. This is a nice idea, and highly interesting, but as a non-dedicated follower of fashion, I will do it slightly differently. I’ll write about mine. This is not my favourite album, as such, but it’s the one that allowed me to make a connection with music that I hadn’t had before.

In 1987, I was mostly a fan of pop music I suppose, though I did like Prince who was a bit more than pop music. I liked Queen who were certainly more than pop. I liked Frankie Goes to Hollywood, I’m not sure what they were? In 1986, I even bought my one and only Madonna Album, True Blue, a fine collection of pop songs, by any standards. Truthfully, I can’t remember much more than that but in 1987 a record changed my life. I wasn’t a Simple Minds fan, but for some reason, one July day, I wanted to be, though I didn’t know why?

That summer, my mother, brother and I went on holiday to Italy, on a bus … well, a coach. It seemed to take about a week to get there. My only real memories of the journey were the terror of passing through a tunnel in the Alps, wondering if Stefan Edberg had beaten Ivan Lendl at Wimbledon (he hadn’t) and sitting next to a guy – a bit older than me – who had a fancy personal stereo/Walkman type-thing. And he was listening to a cassette of Simple Minds ‘Live in the City of Light’. A live double album released earlier that summer. I was jealous and excited by this, even though I didn’t know the songs. Maybe the elegant black cover intrigued me. I can’t explain, but I wanted to hear it. I wanted access to that private world. Maybe I just wanted a personal stereo (I got one later that year for Christmas, yellow, if I’m not mistaken and I had had one before, lest you think me a deprived child) but there was something about seeing that cassette cover, on that coach, on that sunny day. 

Anyway, a friend at school – who sadly passed away tragically young – had a big brother who was a Simple Minds fan. I must have badgered him incessantly and eventually he got me a copy of the Live Album - on cassette - later that year and it transformed my life. It changed how I feel about music, particularly live music. Thanks to this album and discovering Simple Minds back catalogue, I subsequently discovered their influences such as The Who, Roxy Music, The Doors, U2, David Bowie, Lou Reed, Van Morrison and so on and so on. It essentially opened up my heart and soul to music in general, and musical discovery is a journey that I continue to take.

 Van Morrison once wrote a song called “In the Days Before Rock’n’Roll.” Can you imagine life without it? No Beatles, no Elvis, no Zeppelin, no Marvin Gaye (okay he was Soul, but you get the idea), no Queen, no Springsteen etc? I don’t fancy it, myself. By the time I became a Simple Minds fan they were not remotely fashionable. They were far too successful (commercially) to be fashionable by then, but I don’t really care. With music, as with clothes, no point in asking me, “Is that the fashion?”.  Live and let live when it comes to music, I say. But “Live and Let Die”? Now there’s a tune.