Thank you for the music

Music has always been important in my life, and I dearly wish that I had even a grain of talent that would enable me to play or sing. As I don't have that, my musical enjoyment is limited to listening.

I have a young friend that I met only recently, and I envy her so much, not just for her prodigious talent and enthusiasm for music but for the fact that she has so much music out there to discover. There are few joys that can compare to "finding" a piece of music, a song or a whole new composer or performer.

In my teens, music mainly came from my father's old radiogram and so at home it was all his choice. I didn't mind that too much as i liked the old swing and jazz records, but I revelled in the classical pieces that would often thunder out around our tiny house.

At primary school, we'd isten to the schools radio broadcasts and sing along to songs that I still recall. At grammar school the singing continued in formal music lessons as well as in school assembly, the daily ritual of enforced religious worship that I grew to detest. Music lessons were with Curly Edwards, and he was an inspiration. He would introduce us to pieces of music that we'd never experienced before and would through his explanations, paint sound pictures that were a revelation to me. I still remember hearing Dvorak for the first time and being transported, over the Atlantic to the New World. I loved Music lessons and wish that I could have learned more of the theory-at that time I couldn't see the point.

I joined the school choir, partly because I loved singing but mainly because that was where the girls were. The only benefit that I got from it though was the music. I never even got close to any of the girls. The choir was well supported and we sang internal concerts mainly. Sometimes they would consist of secular pieces, often by Elgar or Gordon Jacob, but what we enjoyed mostly were the Carol concerts. If they weren't steeped in religion, I'd still enjoy singing carols, though the magic of Christmas has long since evaporated. We always processed into the hall, filled with people, with a soloist leading us in "The Boars Head Carol" while we thundered in with the chorus. This was performed in semi darkness for maximum impact, and it sent shivers down my spine. We left the concerts in the same way.

I did try to learn an instrument. I took violin lessons and had to practice at home. You can imagin the encouragement that I got as I set the dog howling as soon as I took the instrument out of its case. Needless to say, I didn't keep it up and was forced to return the poor tortured instrument.

In the sixties we were lucky to experience the great revolution in music, and we were all swept along on the tide of change. It sounds corny, but it was the Beatles that made the most impact. Their records were lapped up by their adoring fans, and everyone wanted to be like them. They became role models for our generation. We all bought their discs and we listened to them until we knew them by heart and then listened some more.

In 1965, I think, we were taken on holiday by my mother, who, by this time was working. We stayed in a caravan at Weston Super Mare for a whole week - a new experience indeed. An aunt came with us too and we enjoyed staying in out tiny tin box next to the sea. One day while we were there, Mother came back from a walk into the town with tickets to a concert in the cinema. We couldn't believe it - it was The Beatles.

They did a large number of cinema tours in those days, but the histeria was already building and these small venues were soon to become a thing of the past.

The cinema was of course packed out and the air was filled with hormones. The excitement was tangible and the staff looked nervous. The concert began with the support band, Gerry and The Pacemakers, who were wonderful. Gerry Marsden sang superbly and the performance was well received. They must have played for about 45 minutes and then the curtains closed.

Within minutes they opened again and the house erupted into a wall of screams that was really quite scary. The Beatles were on stage and playing but little of them could be heard. The crowd, mainly girls and young women wanted to express themselves. I have read since that in many of these shows, seats were soaked and the aisles ran with urine. i can believe it, I have never before or since witnessed crowd behaviour quite like it. I don't remember much about the concert itself. I think I felt that Gerry and the Pacemakers were better, but that may be because they could be heard.