New music is all well and good, I do plough thoroughly worthwhile time into looking for new music. I vividly remember my first trawl of the internet whilst hungover after a mate's birthday - my first plunge into Hypem to find cool House remixes of my favourite songs, and the start of my Spotify deluge.
My mates and I have always enjoyed a good foray into the live scene in London to catch up-and-coming artists...The Borderline has been a good venue for us to catch the likes of Nathaniel Rateliff and Benjamin Francis Leftwich.
Nothing though, quite matches the sense of discovery of a piece of music or an artist who has already achieved critical acclaim or has already established a good back catalogue. They may be considered masters of their art by their past audience, but for me, when I discover a past gem, I do take a lot of satisfaction from it, knowing that their music has probably shaped today's scene.
Taking a look back at the Fairport Cropredy Festival line-up of past years can reveal some sickening missed chances. If, 5 years ago, we'd have all been aware of John Martyn's genius. There are some other missed opportunities with the likes of Ralph McTell, Seth Lakeman and Supergrass!
I don't think music will ever reach a place where it has gone stale. There may be a current trend with the Top 40 of today, with the recipe for a chart hit consisting of David Guetta. Period. But the periphery to the mainstream is bursting with fresh, exciting new acts across all genres. To a certain degree our auto-tuned chart is actually bustling with good vibes if you're keen for some mood-improvement. One of my favourite things to see in the chart is a well used sample, like Etta James' vocal sampled in last year's Avicii - Levels. It reinforces to me that some of the stand-out material derives from the old-school music scene, which is the most rigid reassurance that music will continue to surprise.
My current wonderment does come directly from the past and links back to the satisfaction I get from knowing older music can shape today's.
I interviewed Jack Savoretti a while ago and during the conversation we hit upon the subject of best albums of all time, where he remarked Paul Simon's Graceland was the one he'd take to a desert island with him. I thought nothing of this at the time, despite the popularity I have since grown to learn it had commanded in it's hey day, I wasn't aware of the album.
A few weeks later I was shopping in Milton Keynes with my girlfriend and we hit upon a vintage market outside John Lewis. She went off in search of bunting, I set about looking for vinyls and retro music. I found a stall who had turned CDs into place mats, sim cards into ear rings and among many other things, vinyls into book ends. These book ends immediately caught my eye and I had a browse through their selection. A Thomas Dolby 1984 Parlophone vinyl immediately struck a chord - complete with Hyperactive! I then hit upon Paul Simon - Graceland; the artwork was pretty standard, but I decided to make a purchase anyway... I remembered Jack has mentioned it, and there wasn't much other choice...
I got home, immediately fired up Spotify and hit play on Graceland. Oh my goodness.
I listened to the album twice through, then listened to the audio description of Graceland. It's one of the most diverse, instrumentally sound and pure records I've ever heard. One of the most amazing things about the album is every instrument/vocal track on a song could easily be isolated and played on it's own and it would still captivate you.
The other incredible thing I took away from my listens was how worldly it was. With so much African influence and an embellishment of tribal sounds, you feel as if you're on a journey. I now feel well-travelled after listening! It actually evokes more of a desire to hit the road and discover.
The lyrics are so genuine. You've probably heard those kinds of songs where you are shocked out of listening passively by hearing two or three poetic lyrics strung together. It's the same story with this album, you keep hearing eloquent lyrics all the way through it.
You wait for a bus then three come along at once, after having had that first indirect introduction to this album by Jack, then by chance igniting the fire to have a listen in Milton Keynes, the final straw was earlier this week when we had Liam Blake in the studio to lay down some covers for my radio show - he brought along his loop pedal and started to build up a familiar pattern... all of a sudden You Can Call Me Al bursts into life and the Paul Simon incendiary sparked up again...
