Remember What It Is That You Love

I'm no great believer in life targets, objectives, New Year's Resolutions, etc., as enough about the last few years in particular reminds me that life's vicissitudes can frequently derail them in ways unforeseeable or unimaginable.

One thing I am finally getting round to doing, however, is finally making good on a promise to myself to reactivate That Music List after a hiatus of an unintentionally long seven and three quarter years.

It's taken a while to get back to writing about music, and indeed enjoying listening to music it to its fullest again, after somehow, somewhere along the way, falling out of love of doing both at the turn of the decade.
 
Writing my annual Eurovision analyses, plus a short-lived occasional Twitter feed reviewing every UK chart entry for a given week in history, were both persevered with, but each often felt like a chore at times. 
 
For the latter in particular, there’d frequently be more songs I disliked than liked, and writing quite so much about those felt unrewarding, a drain of energy and broadly at odds with my generous disposition.

CDs were still being bought and downloads downloaded, but more of them were finding their way onto the unplayed pile and staying there. Gigs were still being sought out and tickets bought for, but ultimately only two gigs were attended in four and a half years from the start of 2020 (a length of time lockdown alone can't legislate for), with every excuse possible dreamed up for not going out.

Was this marked disengagement a manifestation of depression?  I’m not convinced.  Most of my other interests continued to receive attention in a way they wouldn’t have were it that. 
 
Was music a victim of significant other competing distractions, notably adoptive parenthood?  Unlikely.  The kids love music, and love when we compile them playlists for holidays.
 
Who knows where that attachment went.  It certainly wasn't borne out of a lack of anything interesting to listen to, as there's *never* not good new music being made, if one knows where to look with a sufficiently open heart, along with a musical past so big that the task of exploring it all in our lifetime will defeat every one of us.

Either way, the ennui evidently just had to run its course, and run it it did.
 
It was my wife Linda who spotted my returning enthusiasm first; initially when I was agonising over a three-way clash of gigs in Manchester/Middlewich/York last July in a way I hadn't for an eternity (I plumped for Nev Clay in York and regretted it not one iota), and then when catching me using every conceivable opportunity to have Spotify playing playlists of Europop favourites in the holiday home of our French break a few weeks later.
 
The fire had been relit.  Since then, it’s been a case of catching up with my backlog (a long way to go yet), seeing what else is new out there, and reawakening my old penchant for serendipitous discoveries on mailing lists and YouTube.
 
I’ve also felt a stronger desire to revisit the various nooks and crannies of my music collection than I can remember for a long time.  It’s eye-opening to consider my absolute peak record-buying years – 1993 to 2004, I suppose – started more than half my lifetime ago now.  Ah, anno domini. 
 
There are scores, hundreds even, of albums and singles from that decade-long glut of purchasing that deserve to be working harder than they have for a good while, and all the more so with the kids likely to want to start exploring them in the round before much longer – hints are often dropped.
 
These reawakened behaviours cumulatively informed my thoughts on restarting That Music List, and I spent a good bit of time over Xmas determining how I envisage it nowadays. 
 
Very much not as the slavish, rote exercise to find as many new songs as possible every week which at this remove it's evident the List sometime became in the latter period of its original lifespan (2009-2018), not always engaging fully with what I’d find.
 
Instead, rather, I see it now as a love letter to the music in my collection, and to the music I intend to add to it, or am in the process of doing.  I see it as a more thematically driven resource than previously, in the hope of keeping it interesting for compiler and viewer/listener alike.  And I see it as a thankyou, direct or implied, to the people who led me back to a place of loving music again, whether they actually knew they had or not.
 
Those would include, but not necessarily be limited to, Jo and Pete Dale, Chris Mabbs, Elodie Ginsberg, Sarah Griffiths, Chris Minor, Pete Green, Danielle Cope, Kev Birchall and Linda Yarwood for the gigs; Steve Vickers and Joel Rigler for the radio shows; Tom Ewing and Dave Bryant for the writing; and of course Linda for humouring and tolerating my propensity to be distracted by songs (including those in my head) any time of day.
 
Anyhow, this week’s forthcoming List includes some personal 2025 highlights from Cardiacs, Lightning in a Twilight Hour and Stereolab; some Eurodisco brilliance from your favourite deadpan Belgians; some Lemonheads loveliness from over three decades apart; tracks from Nev Clay and Duck as an expression of love and gratitude; some Peel-endorsed progressive house; a psychedelic mariachi ensemble (their words) from the first Indietracks I attended; a tribute to Dave Ball; and plenty more.  I hope you find something you enjoy in there. 
 
I don’t recall at this remove what the theme of the early Family Cat single Remember What It Is That You Love was all about, but shorn of any context that’s a song title that works well as a mantra for life. 
 
And remembering what it is that I love is music is something I’m very glad I’ve been able to do.