The Eagles Hotel California, Our Meeting Down Under, and Why This is a Desert Island Album

What can you possibly say about Hotel California that hasn't already been said? Realistically, probably nothing, so I'll begin with the facts. Released in 1976, it has sold more than sixteen million copies in the U.S alone. It was number one in the album charts for eight weeks. It also boasts two number one hit singles in the title track Hotel California, and its brilliant predecessor New Kid In Town. It was listed #38 on VH1's Greatest Album's Of All Time, #37 on Rolling Stone Magazine's 500 Greatest Album's Ever, and #13 in a 2005 survey by Channel 4 determining the best record ever made. It was a major global critical and commercial success, and in the title track boasts one of the most air-played songs of all-time, with one of the defining opening lines in Rock'n'Roll history: "On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair/Warm smell of colitas rising up through the air." In 1977 New Kid In Town won a Grammy Award for the Best Arrangement For Voices category, and in 1978 the album Hotel California won another Grammy Award for Record Of The Year. So, just in case you aren't quite getting the picture yet, this album is a BIG fucking DEAL.

That's all the statistical crap out of the way. I guess now I can have my say. Ok, so it opens with the title track. Some people can't stand it; I suspect that is because it is overplayed, over-quoted, and totally misunderstood. Songs can be ruined by the radio, it is true, but it is impossible to draw the line. When there is a demand for air-play because something is so good, how do you mediate it? It is the unanswerable question. In my opinion the song Hotel California speaks loudly for itself. One of the great moments in music history, it still sounds fresh, still has something to say lyrically as well as musically, and has the potential (along with certain Beatles/Stones/Elvis numbers etc) never to grow old. I don't often get defensive about music anymore - I am broad-minded enough to appreciate that everybody has different tastes, and everybody is entitled to an opinion. However, I'm going to break the mould here since I love this track, still get so much pleasure out of playing it live, and believe in its genius so much. If you think this song is shit you have one of two possible ailments: either a) you are deaf, or b) you are a complete dickhead.

New Kid in Town, which still stands as my favourite Eagles track ever, is, in my opinion, simply perfect. Lyrically it exposes the tensions felt as a young person; it captures the anxiety caused as a result of an imposing newcomer, and puts us all back into a situation familiar to our younger days. How many young people have been conscious of some other stealing their limelight? Hi-jacking their relationships? Taking their girl/guy? How many people have experienced that feeling of green-eyed envy and jealousy, which leaves you feeling paranoid and empty? I'd guess just about everyone. Despite this song being, musically, one of the most sumptuous, delightful, harmonies tracks you'll ever hear, that underlying material theme and uneasiness is right there within. Life In The Fast Lane is the riff that sparks the fire on the album; a wonderful duel of sorts between Joe Walsh and Don Felder - a duel with two outright winners. Wasted Time is a stunning ballad in which Don Henley's immense vocal steals the show, amidst some fine guitar playing, immaculate piano work, and a heavenly string arrangement. It is devastating in every possible positive sense.

The reprise of Wasted Time is equally as dazzling, pre-empting Victim Of Love, a thunderous lament co-written by Henley, Glenn Frey, Don Felder and JD Souther. Joe Walsh's slide guitar is riveting throughout. Pretty Maids All In A Row - Walsh's only self-penned track on the album - is an overwhelming love song in which his much criticised vocal puts many critics back in their unjustified boxes. The harmonies are everything you would expect from the Eagles; they are, in fact, so tight that it could be mistaken as one multi-dimensional voice. Try And Love Again, written by soon-to-depart bass player Randy Meisner, is a lovely country song, sang in his usual alluring style. The album ends with the epic The Last Resort - a song that has come up against much speculation over the years. Glenn Frey said in an interview that the song was about the loss of paradise; how human beings are experts at screwing up the environment and making a catastrophe of everything beautiful here on Earth. Musically it is untouchable; a prodigious statement, a colossal musical arrangement, and a hair-raising moment if ever there was one. It concludes a record that is so broad musically and thematically that it is impossible to compartment. It is Rock, Folk, Country, Pop - everything in fact. Conceptually it speaks about imprisonment, death, materialism, insanity, the separation of art and commerce, lost love, found love, drug addiction, the transient nature of fame, temptation, shallow relationships, manifest destiny and the American Dream. It is an absolute classic which every music lover should own, and never fails to reveal itself in a new light every time I listen to it.

Back in 2004 I was walking through Knox City, a multi-storey shopping centre just outside Melbourne, Australia. I spotted on a poster that The Eagles were coming down under for a series of shows, five of which were at the Rod Laver Arena. I rang my mate Travis, he came down, and we bought a pair of the cheapest tickets - $94.60 each. The most expensive were over $500 a piece. Capitalism gone mad. We were warned that we had paid for restricted view, but I suppose beggars couldn't be choosers. When the night finally came - wait for it - on a gloriously hot November's evening, Travis and I were blown away. First of all, our 'restricted view' seats were actually right at the side of the stage. I had people sat two yards to my right who had paid the full $500. Secondly, The Eagles were amazing. They played all the hits, their harmonies were incredible, the playing immense, and the atmosphere electric. A magic night. And, to top it all off, they released that very gig on DVD just for me as a keepsake. What cool old boys.

Since then I have managed to see The Eagles twice - once in Manchester at the MEN Arena (2006), and again at The O2 Arena in London (2008), where they plugged their brilliant new record Long Road Out Of Eden. It is a curse that I wasn't around to see them blossom in their heyday, but a total blessing to have caught them doing what they STILL do best in their autumn years. The Eagles are an institution - and, yes, they are commercial, but their importance and influence cannot be denied. Hotel California is one of my desert island discs; to think I'd never hear it again would break my heart in two. BUY IT!

The Stranglers Norfolk Coast, Interviews, Encounters and Punk Survivors

This is an album that holds a very special place in my heart. It takes me back to a wonderful time in my life when my obsession with music was starting to open doors for me in many ways; I was a lead-reporter for Sheffield Hallam's quarterly magazine S-Press, which saw me travelling round to review gigs, receiving free demos for my delectation from a wealth of artists old and new, and even interviewing the odd big name. On this particular occasion back in 2004, around the time of The Stranglers' first release for over six years, Norfolk Coast, my editor called me to say that she had secured an interview for me with Jean Jacques Burnel, the bass-playing stronghold of The Stranglers for thirty-plus years, ahead of their gig at The Sheffield Leadmill. It was an opportunity for me to meet an idol, and also a chance to use my reporting skills to throw some publicity into the student market for one of my favourite ever bands.

I'd been going to see The Stranglers consistently for several years by this stage - I had a mate called Ian Cropper who was a Stranglers fanatic, and he took it upon himself to organise mass trips to see them at weird and wonderful venues across the country. I always tagged along, and thus thought it appropriate that I invite Ian to come and meet his hero with me in The Leadmill. He had told me many stories about the band and particularly JJ - who had karate kicked a mad fan straight back off the stage mid-song during one of Ian's first gigs back on The Ravern tour in 1979. Needless to say i was a little wary about this meeting, though I needn't have been. he was a total gentleman. It was a Sunday afternoon - several hours before the band played the venue, and we were escorted in to see the back-end of the band sound-checking. It was a rather surreal experience - my first look at the behind-the-scenes so to speak. Our introduction to JJ Burnel by his agent was very informal, and this mountain of a man was very polite and warm indeed. We went on to chat for several hours, and JJ was extremely open about all sorts of things; his past, his personal life, his enemies within the industry, and the fall-outs within the band. His famous quote (having been asked if he had met many of his own heroes in the industry), which me and Ian still talk fondly about today, was: "Ronnie Wood was a wanker, Roger Daltrey a complete cunt, and if I ever get my hands on Ray Davies I'll fucking strangle him!" Needless to say we had a magic afternoon, JJ put us on the guest list for that evening's gig (the fifth time I'd get to see them), and I wrote a successful centre-page article in S-Press which opened the band up to a whole new audience.

The album that they were currently touring at the time was Norfolk Coast. I had received a copy in the post as a pre-requisite to the interview, and was amazed by its strength considering it was the band's fifteenth studio album released thirty years after their initial conception. Since I was approaching it from a press-perspective, I received all of the mainstream reviews which championed the album as a great success. Q Magazine said it was "easily their best work," Uncut reckoned it was "their best album in years," Mojo claimed it was "a must-have for any Stranglers fan," and Guitarist, which shares my own opinion closest, said "fantastic...Norfolk Coast is going to surprise a lot of people." It certainly did, and none more so than me.

The album begins with the thumping title-track Norfolk Coast, in which Paul Roberts' gritty vocal and JJ Burnel's pounding bass shine. Big Thing Coming is a vibrant, rousing number which may, incidentally, have been foretelling The Stranglers own reinvention and impending success with the album: "There is a big change coming/I don't care who you are/It will change everyone." Long Black Veil is typical of The Stranglers' trademark sound; dark and whimsical, it has a killer hook ala Golden Brown. I've Been Wild, as JJ told me himself, is an admission of his own fraught and lawless youth: "There were times when I did things I shouldn't have done/Should have stopped long before I'd begun." However, it is also an acceptance of middle-age, and the quieter side of life. JJ recalled the fact that as a younger man he often fought before he thought, or got embroiled in three day drinking sessions, or did the craziest, most unexplainable things. A man after my own heart it seems.

Dutch Moon is a delectable and graceful acoustic number with Spanish undertones. Lost Control is more like the trademark heavy sound with eminent swirling keyboards by Dave Greenfield. Into The Fire is another of those tunes with a killer hook; the keyboards lift Baz Warne's guitars high into the sky, as the stereotypical masculine harmonies boss the track. The following record, for me, is the band's ultimate treasure. A track so fine that I'd go as far as to say it is the best song they have ever produced - a very brave statement considering this is a band that has brought us Golden Brown, Always The Sun, Strange Little Girl, Peaches, No More Heroes, and a whole host of other classics that I haven't time to mention. Tucker's Grave, which was written about Edwin Tucker who committed suicide in 1747 in the very room in which he died, is a progressive, contemplative, and atmospheric passage into a realm that many would never consider possible for The Stranglers. It has a four dimensional sound in which Greenfield's magical playing is once again paramount. The harmonies are something you would expect to hear on a Crosby, Stills & Nash record, and the lyrics captivating with their medieval mystique. A total masterpiece. One of my tracks of the noughties without doubt.

I Don't Agree is more like the aggressive, angst-ridden Stranglers of old: "I don't agree however well you put it/I don't agree I think you better prove it/I don't agree however much you ham it/I don't agree, I just will not permit it." Sanfte Cuss is a light and effeminate track with a skiffle-like approach in which JJ's multi-lingual vocal is put to great effect. The album closes with Mine All Mine, a brilliant, arousing, melodic stomper in which the band put their final stamp on a scintillating collection.

Jet Black, the band's long-standing drummer, is now in his seventies. The band had to lie about his age in the early days to keep him in it. JJ Burnel has hinted in the last year or so that the end of The Stranglers is almost imminent since they couldn't possibly imagine continuing without him. Despite many line-up changes, including the departure of two prominent front-men (Hugh Cornwell and Paul Roberts), the inner core of Burnel, Black and Greenfield are essential to the essence of this fantastic band. I have been lucky enough to see them live in their various guises half a dozen times. If the end is in fact imminent then I am both happy to have shared in their journey, and to have had the wonderful opportunity to meet JJ Burnel in my Uni days. They are one of Britain's classic bands - they should be cherished, celebrated, and thrust in the face of every new generation. If you are new to The Stranglers then Norfolk Coast, one of their finest records, is a great place to start.

Long Live our CLASSIC BANDS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Eric Clapton - Unplugged, Live Magic from the Ultimate Guitar God

I once declared during a gig that if I was elected Prime Minister I would send every kid home with a copy of this album as a matter of priority. Everybody laughed. I suppose I laughed along, but deep inside I was deadly serious. It is an unparalleled achievemant in many senses, certainly from the point of view of a live performance. Clapton and a band of fanatastic session musicians laying it down with immaculate precision. Now this is an unusual addition for me into the Classic Album archive because it is not strictly a studio album. My intention when creating this blog was to avoid collections, greatest hits, and live albums etc etc, but this is somehow exceptional. It has to qualify because it is so damn important. Of course, it is a live album, and it is a collection of Clapton's own hits throughout his career plus classic covers, but that takes nothing away from the magnitude of Unplugged as a classic record. It is such essential listening in the scheme of things, so influential on me, my life, and my music, and is so bloody good that it is impossible to dismiss!

Eric Clapton is the ultimate guitar God. In a career that is spanning nearly half a century, he has achieved everything. There are, of course, others that stand out; Hendrix and Jimmy page most notably. Then there is Dave Gilmour, Stevie Ray Vaughan, Pete Townshend and B.B King. It is Clapton though that has stood the test of time, survived reinvention, continued recording and performing right at the top, and pioneered the finest. He has switched from guise to guise with consummate ease, and continued to make relevant records throughout the decades for all generations. His live performances are still stuff of legend; I saw him headline a gig in London's Hyde Park in 2008 in front of 100,000 people that was nothing short of breath-taking. I have also seen him raise the roof on his Me and Mr Johnson tour in Sheffield Hallam Arena (2003) with the late, great Billy preston on keys, just last year (2009) in Liverpool's brand new Echo Arena, and back in 2006 as a guest with John Mayall at a Unite For Unicef benefit gig in a tent on Liverpool's Kings Dock.

So, to the record. Clapton's beautiful and moving plea to his tragic son Connor - tears in heaven - is perfectly executed by a man whose heart, you can tell, still bleeds for his loss. The reinvention of layla is simply thrilling. running on faith is massive, particularly with the angelic backing vocals of Tessa Niles and Katie Kissoon, whilst Chuck Levell's piano solos on old love are stuff of legend. The two raw Robert Johnson covers, walkin' blues and malted milk are testament to the importance of this man on Clapton's own playing and songwriting. san francisco bay blues is a lively jaunt, alberta a magical arrangement of a trad song, and nobody knows you when you're down and out a brilliant, vibrant appeal to peoples' compassion, and exposure of peoples' greed. That leaves lonely stranger - a delicate self-penned blues, hey hey - an exciteable foot-stamper, and before you accuse me, a stunning cover in which Clapton's vocal is astounding - he is one of the few musicians whose voice has got better with age. Unplugged is definitely a players album, and one that has taught me so much about my own music, and my own approach to playing live and acoustic.

Unplugged achieved six Grammy Awards in 1992: Record Of The Year, Album Of The Year, Song Of The Year, Best Male Pop Vocal Performance, Best Rock Male Vocal Performance, and Best Rock Song. It was voted #71 in Q Magazines Top 100 Albums Ever, gained numerous five-star reviews, and commanded mass critical acclaim. It has become the definitive MTV special performance, since emulated by acts as diverse as Chris Isaak, Bon Jovi, Neil Young and Bob Dylan. At very nearly 65 years young, Clapton is the first to admit that he probably shouldn't be here; years of drug problems throughout his Yardbirds, Cream and Derek & The Dominoes years put a great strain on his well-being, but left his guitar playing and songwriting, thankfully, untouched. He is a music legend in every sense - a giant to rival The Beatles, The Stones, Dylan and all other long-lived revolutionaries. Recent collaborations with JJ Cale and B.B King have been equally well acclaimed, and his electric live performances seem to go from strength to strength. Bless the weather that brought this genius to us all. . . . . . .

Quicksilver Music - Market St, Southport!

Quicksilver Music is a relatively new music shop in Market St, Southport, ran by local musician Dave Thornley. This is my attempt at a plug since I am a muso and love the place - go and pay it a visit!!! The fact of the matter is that, in modern times, there is very little left for the genuine record collector. Downloading has murdered the industry. Five years ago in this town there were half a dozen music shops to peruse, whereas now only HMV has survived. It is a tragedy in my eyes, so imagine my joy when I stumbled upon Quicksilver Music - a record collector's paradise.

Dave is a very friendly and enthusiastic guy who obviously pays great attention to his customers and their tastes in music. It hasn't taken long for him to assess the trends of my spending and start recommending records from artists he thinks I may like - a skill in which he has yet to fail. There is a wealth of rare and classic records to choose from at very cheap prices, covering the entire spectrum: Classic Rock and Pop, Blues, Jazz, Funk, Country, Soul, Alternative, and Indie. Plus, there is a constant shift in stock, meaning that just because you may have wandered in the day before doesn't mean its not worth another visit the day after! If it is CD's, Vinyl, Boxsets, 45's, DVD's, T-Shirts, wall-art, or books you are interested in, or in fact musical equipment itself (Dave has a range of superb second-hand guitars and amps for sale) then you really should head in to take a look.

Quicksilver has been responsible for many of my recent musical discoveries: JJ Cale, Spirit, Miles Davis, Al Stewart, Otis Spann, Soft Machine, Jackson Browne, Jim Croche, MC5, Sandy Denny, Buffalo Springfield - the list could go on and on! Everytime I walk in I leave with something new and exciting to get my musical molars into. It's inspired! I really hope you get chance to pay Quicksilver Music a visit - these independent record stores can only survive if they are supported by the music loving community!!!

Dire Straits Brothers In Arms, My Earliest Music Memories, and the Genius of Mark Knopfler

If you are a child of the 80's then you cannot help but know the distinctive sound of Dire Straits. It was a sound that, whether you like it or not, almost certainly acted as soundtrack to our early years as they played out. I wouldn't say that I'm one of the few that is proud of that, but I am one of the fortunate ones to love Mark Knopfler and the sounds that Dire Straits created. I mean, who on earth can help but play air-guitar and stamp their feet to the sound of Money For Nothing? Who can deny that this guitar riff to end all guitar riffs would have foretold the fortunes of our technology swamped generation? And how fitting that this group, who were one of the very few at that time who refused to court celebrity, would rocket skywards past all of the fake, image-conscious pop-crap into the annals of rock-legend history. Brothers In Arms was nominated this year as a contender for The Brits Greatest Album Ever - I spotted it there with at least one other decent nomination (Sade's Diamond Life) - and I was so glad that it got nowhere near winning. It is so much better, and so much more important than that. It is a record that defines the rare minority of albums in the 80's that maintained some artistic dignity. So Liam, if you can put time aside from being a complete wanker and go fetch you Brit, do me a favour and stick it so far up your arse it bursts your vocal chords. Then we can get on with rating some proper records.

I'm very sorry about that on two counts. Firstly, my terrible attempt at French. Secondly, for even alluding to Oasis in a Dire Straits review. If Knopfler was Manchester United, Noel Gallagher would be mid-table in the Unibond League. That would make Liam a substitute for Hesketh Casuals fourth team. Look, I'm at it again.

So, Brothers In Arms. Not just an album, but a package so important in the history of music that it is one of the very few capable of surviving Armageddon. The cover in itself is legendary - the steel guitar, a fixture of my imagination for years, so recognisable that it is useless using in a pub quiz. In fact, after collecting rather large amounts of cash from friends and relatives on my 21st birthday, I rushed out to Dawsons in Liverpool to purchase an exact replica, which has still yet to feature in any of my gigs since I prefer to stare at it than actually play it. The fact that it is rising through the clouds on the cover is, with hindsight, uncannily prophetic, since Brothers In Arms would catapult Dire Straits to massive global acclaim. It stormed the barricades of popular taste, smashed records across all continents, and became the biggest selling album in UK history.

It begins with the dreamy So Far Away; "Here I am again in this mean old town/And you're so far away from me." A simple idea, dangerously straight forward lyrics, and lucid guitar upon a smooth keyboard, which produces nothing short of blistering results. Money For Nothing, featuring co-writer Sting, will forever be deemed a landmark in guitar playing. It is mechanical, metallic, but searing in every way. "I want my MTV," the somewhat prophetic statement that would define the emerging generation, is one of the most recognisable lyrics in music history, and rightly so. Walk Of Life still reminds me of a glorious, hot summers day back in the 80's as I danced care-free to Knopfler's boogie-woogie. We're not talking high-art here; as a track, it is what it is. Feel good, well-crafted pop-rock.

Your Latest Trick, Knopfler's beautiful, saxophone-soaked epic, is a fabulous late night tale of blues, loneliness and seediness. Musically it is perfect; the sax is soft and warm, the guitar creeps in in all the right places, the drums subtle, and the bass dramatic. Guy Fletcher's keyboards, as always, are instinctively brilliant. When Knopfler grumbles: "All the late night bargains have been struck/Between the satin beaus and their belles/And prehistoric garbage trucks/Have the city to themselves," you can feel the sadness, the emptiness, the disillusion with the city. A very evocative song indeed. Why Worry, a pastoral, atmospheric gallivant into spring is a charming and fragrant tune demonstrating Knopfler's delicate guitar playing and sensitive lyric writing. It ends with an exquisite instrumental, typical of the album's surety. Ride Across The River, in contrast, is in your face; political ("I'm a soldier of freedom in the army of man/We are the chosen, we're the partisan"), and musically rather intense, it is the sort of statement that Knopfler would make more often later in his career.

The Man's Too Strong - the album's hidden treasure, is testament to Neil Dorfsman's production skills. A thumping acoustic number with a dramatic chorus, it is, in my opinion, one of Knopfler's finest ever songs. One World picks up the tempo nicely before the masterpiece that is Brothers In Arms; a defiantly untriumphant wash of moody keyboards and achy guitar. Its sentiment runs deep, and its power meteoric. An achievement of the highest order, and a song that Knopfler has lived in the shadow of ever since. When I saw him perform this in its extended entirety at Manchester's MEN Arena back in 2001, you could have heard a pin drop. It was that moving.

Mark Knopfler is a British song-writing treasure, he really is. His solo career has been every inch as exciting as his time with Dire Straits, and who is to say a reunion isn't possible? If they were to take Brothers In Arms out on the road one more time I have no doubt that they would conquer the world once again.

Dr John Gris Gris - Accepting 'Wierd', and the Influence of World Music

Ok, so this is where things get a little strange. This is where you need to adopt an open mind, otherwise it is simply not worth reading on. This is by no means a commercial record. It has no definable, commercial traits. The most common reaction I've had to playing this album is "What the fuck?!" which, to me, is far more successful than "This is shit." It is so out-of-the-ordinary that Gris Gris is either a bonafide winner or a certain loser. There aren't many who deem it 'alright'. I absolutely love it, and that's why it has made it onto my Classic Album Review blog.

Dr John, otherwise known as Mac Rebennac, is a stunning and unique musician who has been making records for over forty years. He is an elder-statesman of the New Orleans scene, whose diversions into the weird and wonderful have amounted to an amazing career's work. Gris Gris, Dr John's debut album, was released in 1968 under the ATCO label - a subdivision of Atlantic. It is said that Ahmed Ertgun, the legendary pioneer of the Atlantic label, was reluctant to release it at all, exclaiming: "how can we market this boogaloo crap?" However, it went on to receive great critical acclaim, and even achieved #143 in Rolling Stone Magazine's Greatest 500 Albums Ever.

Gris Gris is out there on its own. Way out there. It begins with an African-style, cult jam in which Rebennac declares: "They call me Dr John the night tripper/Got my satchel of gris gris in my hand." The bleeding saxophone is the only thing that stops it sounding tribal, yet it is totally hypnotic, just like the second track Danse Kalinda Ba Doom. The vocals here are haunting, eerie, possessive even. On first listen, after an all day session around the pubs and bars of Sheffield, I remember being utterly bewitched by what I was hearing. Mama Roux is soulful and delivers some relief from the intensity of the occult, and Danse Fambeaux, despite being a tuneful chant, displays some fantastic guitar playing and magical harmonies.

Croker Courtbullion is fascinating; like something straight out of Joseph Conrad's Heart Of Darkness, it is frightening, mysterious, tense and spectral. The sound scape is uncanny; imagine yourself deep in the jungle being hunted by cannibals - now if that doesn't sell it to you, nothing will. Jump Sturdy, the penultimate track, is a crazy, boogie-woogie meets tribal blues number in which Dr John's supernatural lyrics hit their heady heights: "People say she used to dance with the fish/Some people say they juggled fire in a dish/Living on the Bayou Saint Joan/She raised her hand and caused an electrical storm." I Walk On Gilded Splinters, the final oracle here to behold, is a genius, moody ramble through the night's ills, and the highlight of the whole record. The fact that Paul Weller's fantastic cover of this song lies on my favourite album of all time, Stanley Road, only heightens Rebennac's credentials. The original is equally as great though, admittedly.

One Friday night in May 2006 I caught the Northern Line into Liverpool to watch Dr John perform his avaricious blend of New Orleans blues/world/cult/psychedelic rock at the majestic Philharmonic Hall, probably my favourite venue. He arrived on stage in an immaculate cream suit, feather-adorned trilby, and with a skull headed cane, sitting at his incense smothered grand piano with candles and lamp lights, beautiful rugs and pieces of artwork hung all over the stage. His performance was every inch as mesmerising as his records; a true one off, master of his craft, and creative visionary. Only an open mind can open doors; Gris Gris certainly opened mine.

Neil Young Harvest - Setting Standards for Singer-Songwriters

This really is one of the greatest records ever made. Neil Young - a God amongst musicians - at his very brilliant best. It is a record that I discovered as my own guitar playing started becoming more than just a hobby; in that sense it has been instrumental in my own development as a musician. Young's wonderful sense for melody is the key to these ten beautiful songs. His voice, added to that, is like nothing before it, or anything come since. Also, the melancholy themes adopted by Young on Harvest inject such force into the texture of the music. It is one of those records that is impossible to cut short - it demands to be heard from beginning to end.

Released in 1972, Harvest shot to the top of the American charts and captured the imagination of the nation. It outsold any other record that year, and produced the massive hit single Heart Of Gold, which to this day remains Neil Young's most recognisable tune. I personally found the album after a friend of mine who I used to share acoustic stages with put me onto the song Old Man, a fabulous yet somewhat tragic tale of alienation and recognition. We used to perform it with three part harmony, and it would stop people in their tracks. It was a song that I became obsessed with, particularly the words; "It doesn't mean that much to me/To mean that much to you." Some of his lines are so biting that they reach the bone. Their truth is often terrifying. Old Man was the perfect acoustic song for me; simple, direct, but moving. The strength of that one song put me in no doubt that I had to have the album.

Out On The Weekend, driven by Tim Drummond's solid bass line, is a tumbling statement, leading coolly into the enthralling title track, Harvest. A Man Needs A Maid is a sombre but alluring tale of how love can destroy us; Young suggests that a man needs nothing more than a maid from the female race. It is controversial, but typical of Young's blunt approach to lyric writing. Heart Of Gold, defined by its recognisable harmonica parts, speaks volumes for itself. Are You Ready For The Country and There's A World show Young's ability to open the blinds and show the sun; genuine lessons in acoustic songwriting. Alabama on the other hand has its own sound - dominated by a raw and chunky electric guitar, it hints at a Neil Young we would see in the future - potent with the electric guitar at hand. It is a classic track in every sense; a great sound with a dramatic political lyric - one which can boast Lynryd Skynyrd's Sweet Home Alabama as a scathing response. No sooner had Young criticised Alabama's credentials had Skynyrd blasted their rose-tinted view of their birthplace into public conscience, which, in my opinion, was nothing but a great thing. They do say, after all, that art inspires art.

The Needle And The Damage Done is the sort of song that should remain a staple for acoustic songwriters should there be a textbook. It is provocative, robust, subtle and sympathetic. A damning insight into the sordid music industry, and the rife drug problems shadowing it. "I've seen the needle and the damage done/A little part of it in everyone," remains for me one of the most important lyrics in the history of music. It exposes the weakness of the human condition; shows that we are fallible, immortal, and at times stupid. For such a young man to have written with such virtue is astounding.

The album concludes with an inspired, electric jam: Words (Between The Lines Of Age). Its shift in tempo is executed with finesse, and Young's guitar playing is rugged but warm. It leaves you in no doubt that you have just heard something very, very special indeed. Something pretty much untouchable. So, for me and fellow Neil Young nut Walker, it was the chance of a lifetime to head down to London to watch the man perform at the Hammersmith Apollo Theatre in 2008. It was a show that had everything I could have possibly wished for, beginning with a fantastic solo acoustic set encompassing his earlier recordings such as Heart Of Gold, Old Man, Needle And The Damage Done and Don't Let It Bring You Down. In the second half of the show Young brought his full band to the stage to thrill a packed house with his just-as-relevant and inspiring electric hits, such as Down By The River, Hey Hey My My, and Like A Hurricane. The great man continued to return to the stage for more, eventually finishing with a fourth encore - a fact that left Walker and myself sprinting through the streets of London to catch the tube with seconds to spare. A night roughing it in a shop doorway wouldn't have been punishment for what we saw anyway, it really wouldn't.

I'd be lucky enough to get back down to London to see Neil Young again a year later in the summer of 2009 at the massive Hyde Park Calling Festival, in which he played an equally blinding set. It also included the sort of moment that will go down in folklore - a drunk-as-a-skunk Paul McCartney joining Young on stage for his encore of The Beatles' Day In The Life. Initially, when Lenny screamed "Oh my God, that's Macca!" I thought the sun must have got to her. It was a thrilling thing to see - these two giants of popular culture having a wail of a time on stage deep into their 60's, not giving a shit and letting it all hang out. One of the defining moments of my gig-going career.

Young's records don't begin and end with Harvest. I'm sure that in the not too distant future I shall get round to talking about several of his other records and their impact on my life. Until then, take a look at Harvest - an education by a classic tune smith.