The Real.......1976

At the time of writing this is probably the most extraordinary late summer on record; it has been hot and wet and there has been a tangible sense that work and home life have changed permanently. It is of course 2020 and the dreaded Corona Virus has impregnated into all of our lives in a myriad of ways. In it’s own way however, 1976 was also fairly off the scale, and a documentary I saw the other day reminded me of the sights, smells and sounds of that summer.

For those of you that weren’t there, it was the longest and hottest summer on record. The roads were so hot that the tar melted and you could put the heel of your foot into it and make pock marks. Back gardens in our patch of West London had brown lawns and were full of tomato plants. We lived on tomato sandwiches that summer (white bread, margarine, tomatoes straight from the plant and a touch of salt; surprisingly delicious). That and ice pops - or possibly just frozen blackcurrant squash in Tupperware - formed the basis of our diets for weeks. Boredom for children was a normal part of the summer holidays then, and - in between providing target practice for my brothers to bowl at - I spent much of it listening to the radio. I loved the radio. At the time we transferred our listening back and forth between Capital Radio and Radio 2 and it was on just about all day. The said BBC4 documentary was about the band ‘The Real Thing’ and what joyous, memorable sounds it brought back to me. The programme underlined how moving and poignant it was that these black kids from deprived backgrounds in Liverpool provided such a happy and musical backdrop to our childhood play. They were all great musicians, but the lead singer - what a voice! Enormous depth, great tuning and - you will hear me talking a lot about this - a totally natural sense of phrasing. It is the thing I think about most with teaching and conducting and I have concluded that it is almost impossible to convey. Sure, you can get close through explanation and demonstration, but that instinctive, wonderful sense of light and shade is a gift which can only be hinted at by lesser mortals. I am certain it was this - and of course a really well-crafted song - which gave us all goose pimples. The commentators on the documentary waffled on about the words (and by the way this was the most irritating part of the programme; they kept talking ALL OVER the music) but they were wrong. Chris Amoo had something special and conveyed that joy and love of music which energised us all. Thankyou for that Chris - I am so grateful.

Uplifting music of the day: ‘You to Me Are Everything’ - The Real Thing *

Contemplative music of the day: ‘Children of the Ghetto’ - The Real Thing *

* I’m going to be making these suggestions throughout most of my posts. Get listening!