Silence is Golden

When I was growing up in the 1970s, getting hold of music was really hard. My Dad, who was a teenager in the 1950s, had a record collection that I plundered. Of course, I had Top of the Pops with Gary Glitter (yes him), The Sweet, David Bowie, T Rex, Mud, David Essex, Wizzard, Windsor Davies & Don Estelle and The Simon Park Orchestra to keep me going once a week. But the only on-demand music I had was Buddy Holly, Ricky Nelson, Elvis Presley, Jackie Wilson, Emile Ford & The Checkmates, The Beatles, Billy J Kramer and the Dakotas. Whatever was in the dusty box of vinyl in the loft of our three-bedroom semi. In that respect I was lucky in that my musical education sort of started at the beginning.

By the time 1980 arrived, I had a paper round and pocket money to allow me to purchase singles and the occasional album. But I had to be very careful and selective. What to buy? Luckily I made friends with a boy called Martin around the corner whose uncle was in his late teens. Martin had a collection of punk and new wave singles and albums bought under the tutelage of said uncle, which included: Suspect Device by Stiff Little Fingers, Complete Control by The Clash, In To The Valley by The Skids, Public Image by Public Image Limited, the Where's Bill Grundy Now EP by The Television Personalities, Silly Thing by The Sex Pistols and Summer Fun by The Barracudas; along with the first album by The Clash and the Never Mind The Bollocks. Martin had diabetes and was an only child, so I guess he was indulged by his parents. I had no complaints: I took his records home and taped them.