Hare Kṛṣṇa Hare Kṛṣṇa Kṛṣṇa Kṛṣṇa Hare Hare Hare Rāma Hare Rāma Rāma Rāma Hare Hare

Wie geht's?

News and communication is pretty instantaneous these days.

I went for a walk around the adjacent sports park at lunchtime yesterday (it's a frequent thing on nice weather days and a great way to clear the head), came back and went to the staff room for lunch where they were talking about a big earthquake in Melbourne; sent a quick message to Adam on the family chat and got an instant reply that he and his wife were shaken up but otherwise fine.

Great feeling knowing that instantly. Otherwise Jacky and I would have worried until we heard some reassuring news.

I'm very thankful for that aspect of the phone and modern technology.

It also allows me to keep in touch with friends like Noel Forth.

My recent Goo Goo G'Joob blog post reminded me of a time when I was about 18 (still a schoolboy) and Noel asked me to pick up a record for him (he still lives in Adelaide): The Radha Krsna Temple London album on Apple Records (pictured above).

He gave me an address in Ponsonby and I drove there after school on a Friday afternoon. It was a fairly grungy student flat, bottom floor of an old house - this is around 1976 so Ponsonby was still a run down part of central Auckland at that time.

A bearded young guy wearing sandals, I presumed a drug crazed University student, answered the door, invited me in and went to a pile of records stacked in an old beer crate. I grabbed the record, and beat a quick retreat before he and his drug crazed friends abducted me, shaved my head, and forced me to smoke some illicit substance or pop a pill that would alter my consciousness for ever (I'd read about this sort of thing and Paul McCartney had indicated his reticence for drug taking in that he might end up in a state that he couldn't return from). Oh my!

I have an active imagination!

I guess that's why I remember this isolated incident from the late seventies so vividly.

I asked Noel for details around how he knew the record was there and he couldn't remember anything about it at all!! Laugh out loud!

Love and peace - Wozza

She's a star collector, collector of stars (The Monkees)

12 Zappa albums (the other 48 not pictured)

Wie geht's?

This one is about fatal attractions and a peculiar set of obsessions. 

It's also dedicated to Noel Forth (an Aussie friend from the mid seventies who I've never met but he's still a close friend because he certainly gets me and shares my obsession) and Greg Knowles/ Kevin Simms (two of my close friends who recently told me that I need to write longer posts on this blog - get yourselves a beverage boys and strap in).

On my phone I have a list of records that I'm searching for. That will not be a surprise to anyone who knows me.

It's divided into two parts: really hard to find ones that I need to find to complete certain parts of my collection or Noel's (yes - 'need'). The second part has the ones that are more readily available and I'm keen to buy them if I come across them but only for the right price. I love a bargain.

An example from that first list are rare Beatles records or albums on the Apple Records label. Some are things that Noel is searching for - NZ Apple albums with an orange apple on the record label or a NZ copy of Ringo's Beaucoup Of Blues on Apple Records. That sort of thing.

That first part is made up of albums that we need because we are obsessed with owning everything that was ever produced by an artist, like the Beatles. And we are special slaves to Apple Records (Parlophone doesn't grab us like Apple does).

Okay, now that's impossible if you factor in every Beatles record made in every country of the world for the last 60ish years. So we rationalise our way through this dilly of a pickle (we're not crazy). In Noel's case he wants to own every album that was released in NZ using the orange Apple label. Fair enough.

I don't care about the country - I just want a copy of every record The Beatles and Apple Records produced. 

This need is a strange one I grant you.

Many people collect weird and wonderful things - there are many arcane museums throughout the world dedicated to bizarre collections that appeal to some pretty esoteric people.

The choice is down to the individual but the same drive to accumulate stuff is common to us all.

Kevin is a fanatical collector of Split Enz material for instance. Something lit a fire in his imagination and that desire and purpose burrowed deep under his skin. I get it.

Greg collected Jim Croce and Monkees records until he gave all his Monkees albums to me - the force is strong in that one!

It was a growing obsession with John Lennon's records in the mid seventies that started it all for me. Once I had the easily accessible albums (Imagine, Sometime In New York, Mind Games and John Lennon/Plastic Ono Band), I wanted all his previous albums that were impossible to find in the early seventies.

So I wrote to music papers in the UK (which felt like posting to Neptune back then) asking where I could find The Wedding Album, Two Virgins, Live Peace in Toronto and Life With The Lions. They printed my letter and Noel Forth read it and wrote to me.

Then the obsession took root for good and proper because Noel turned out to be a godsend. He helped me find those records. But not only that - he was a musician - a drummer with his own band - Tortis (which changed into Vertical Hold) and he was/is insanely knowledgeable about music with some great rock'n'roll stories.

Weirdly we also have the same wider tastes in music and he's a fellow Arsenal supporter. Big brother figure? You betcha! 

Recently we discovered a shared interest in Frank Zappa's music, although neither of us are Zappa obsessed completists. He has 38 Zappa albums, I have 60. This got me thinking.

Out of all the groups who have ever been, why is it that I have a list of around 30 Bands/labels/musicians* that I call Fatal Attractions on my phone? What is special about them? And why is it Zappa isn't on the list, although I have 60 of his albums in my collection?

* It's mainly music I'm obsessed with - William Goldman is the only writer who I'd put in this category.

First though - let's compare two lists (yes, you know I love lists)

Here's List A:

• The Rolling Stones - I own 34 albums
• Bob Dylan - 39 albums
• David Bowie - 16 albums
• Grateful Dead - 17 albums
• David Gray - 13 albums
• The Kinks - 9 albums
• The Hollies - 21 albums 
• Crowded House - 6 albums

Let's call this the Zappa list. These albums are by musicians I love but I don't feel the need to own everything they've ever done (although I do need to own all of Dylan's Rolling Thunder Revue albums - go figure).  

Yes, even though I own 60 records by Frank Zappa and the Mothers Of Invention, for some reason I'm not drawn into getting Cruising With Ruben And The Jets, The Yellow Shark and the other missing pieces.

Here's List B - the Fatal Attractions:

• Apple Records label (+ Dark Horse Records)
• Bark Records label
• The Beach Boys (+ solo except for Mike Love)
• The Beatles (+ solo)
• Big Country
• Jack Bruce
• Crosby Stills Nash and Young (+ solo CSN)
• The Datsuns
• Deep Purple
• Emerson Lake And Palmer (not solo, but + The Nice)
• Faces 
• Rory Gallagher
• The Guess Who
• Hot Tuna
• Jefferson Airplane/Jefferson Starhip/ Starship (+ solo)
• The Marshall Tucker Band
• Moody Blues (+ solo)
• Mountain (+ solo)
• Porcupine Tree/ Steven Wilson solo
• Procol Harum (+ Gary Brooker solo)
• Raspberries (+ Eric Carmen solo)
• Santana
• Patti Smith
• Bruce Springsteen
• Tears For Fears
• Ten Years After
• Yes (not solo)

That's the list where I'll forgive shoddy and weak albums as I must have the complete picture.

How to explain all this? Why Steven Wilson but not David Bowie? Why Patti Smith but not Bob Dylan? Why The Datsuns but not Crowded House?

obsession

/əbˈsɛʃ(ə)n/

Learn to pronounce

noun

1. an idea or thought that continually preoccupies or intrudes on a person's mind.

   • plural noun: obsessions

     "he was in the grip of an obsession he was powerless to resist"

Hmm - I'm not continually reoccupied, but I guess I am pre-occupied at times with the need to own some albums, but not others.

This differentiation doesn't make sense to me.

I guess, fundamentally, this is a manifestation of Obessive-Compulsive Disorder - but in my case it's a mild case, as it doesn't cause me distress. Quite the opposite actually - I get great great pleasure from collecting records.

Apart from some rare albums I lost in a house move a few years ago, I don't lie awake at night and dream of records I don't have. That house move will haunt me forever though. 

And I suppose I could go to Discogs with my list and clean up some of the few remaining holes in my collection. But, for some reason, I don't. I prefer to wait it out and experience the thrill of the chase. 

I love browsing record bins and finding another part of the jigsaw (like when I found a Beatles' bootleg at Real Groovy Records recently called No Obvious Title, a record Noel sent me some 50 years ago but was among those lost in that house move).

I'm also not prone to the compulsions part of OCD, nor have my obsessions taken over my life - apart from needing a room to house them that is. 

And so, back to those questions - why one, not the other? I can justify each one pretty succinctly.

Why Steven Wilson but not David Bowie? Why Patti Smith but not Bob Dylan? Why The Datsuns but not Crowded House?

Often a run of dire albums, or even one disaster, can turn me away. I was a keen Dylan collector until Self-Portrait did me in. I was with Neil Young all the way until the bizarre 80's albums on Geffin.

With a lot of the Fatal Attractions it's because they are constantly providing different looks with sustained quality - hence Patti Smith and Steven Wilson. Bowie is an interesting anomaly. I somehow lost focus on him around the mid seventies.

The Datsuns provide a personal connection (Cambridge High School) over Crowded House (even though I sat a few rows behind Neil Finn at the Auckland McCartney concert). 

But then there are the arbitary ones like The Marshall Tucker Band and Tears For Fears. Bands that somehow got their hook into me.

Like I said before: it often doesn't make sense.

Bottom line: although Jacky often introduces me as a 'vinyl junkie', collecting records is still a hobby for me. One that I share with hundreds of other New Zealanders if the Vinyl Lovers of NZ group on Facebook proves anything, and it's harmless enough, right?

Okay - now. Where's that copy of Frank Zappa For President? I have a hankering to play that one today!

Love and peace - Wozza

Met my friends all in the material world (George Harrison)

A Facebook message from Noel Forth,  an old mate (old as in I've known him for yonks), reminded me of my mid seventies silk screening activities.

I began via mucking around in art classes at MAGS during my second year fifth year (1973 for those keeping score); someone was impressed and asked me to screen print shirts for the rowing squad.

Hmm, I thought (to myself) - I could do this at home!

So I made my own silk screens and drew stencils to create some fan art.

Some designs for stencils

Noel in Adelaide had been a pen pal for a while and so, in a quid pro quo deal, he sent records and I sent bespoke screened T shirts. 

Which he wore!!!!

Collection of my fan art from 40 years ago

Some of the screens were really huge - the Lennon print is a mitre square!

Anyway, at the time I printed a copy of each shirt design onto a piece of material and squirreled them away into my keepsake suitcase.

And here they are...

And here's Noel modelling them (in legendary aussie bands Tortis and Vertical Hold) with Mick and Jim...

I know, only a glimpse, but clear proof. The last one is my Paul and Linda McCartney shirt - here's one of my prelim sketches for that stencil... 

And to finish, only Noel will appreciate this, but what the hey - I came across this in my treasure trove with the stencils: not sure why I did this - Noel may have the answer:

Love and peace - Warren Ono Purdy

Oh, look around you, all around you, riding on a copper wave (Patti Smith)

Music is love (You may say I'm a dreamer - Chapter 7: The Seventies Part 2)

Roger in his new pop/rock Marbecks Records

Welcome to the second part of my seventies celebration - the AM (After Marbecks) period - 1976-1982.

Three important life changing events happened in this period. One and two, as I indicated in the previous post, involved meeting Greg Knowles and starting to write to Noel Forth in Adelaide. And the third? I met Roger Marbeck and started working for and with him.

During AM, Greg and I established a weekly pattern of record buying that fed both our habits. 

It went a little something like this: after school on a Friday we would catch a bus into K Rd.

We'd start with George Courts and Rendells in K Rd, then cross the road to The Record Exchange in St Kevin's Arcade, take a wander through Myers Park to Queen Street and work our way down to the end of the road, taking in some of the record shops we came across until we got to Marbecks Records in the Queen's Arcade and the EMI shop in the new Downtown Mall. 

Along that route during these years were a exceptionally large number of record stores: 246's record bar on the second floor, Direction Records, the Record Warehouse, Lewis Eady, Arthur Eady, Taste Records in Lorne Street, down the stairs to Music City in Vulcan Lane, Peaches, Rock'n'Roll Records, and a few more on the side streets whose names I've forgotten.

Watching Split Enz with the Knowleses

This would take hours! We'd walk, chat, spitball, browse, buy - but mainly browse, laugh, joke, people watch, grab a coke (me) or a milkshake (Greg), walk, laugh...

Then we'd get the bus home. I had my drivers' licence by this time so I'd sometimes drive to Greg's and I'd often bus from there. 

Enz at the old His Majesty's 

Greg and I have different tastes so we were never really competing for the same records. It was always supportive. We'd even try to find things we knew the other would like. We'd often trade/swap records - notably I got a lot of Apple singles from Greg. It has been a great relationship and a lasting friendship that I REALLY value.

According to Neil Young, there ain't nothing like a friend who can tell you you're just pissing in the wind.

Often with his big brother, Mike, we also went to gigs together. We saw loads of NZ bands in these years - Split Enz, Golden Harvest, Waves, Streettalk, Hello Sailor, Citizen Band and so on.

During AM, in 1977, we both started student life at Auckland University. While our old school day era routine obviously changed, our frequent trips to Real Groovy (now on Queen's Street after a short stint at the top of Mt Eden Road) and Marbecks, didn't. We also inducted other like minded music lovers, like Kevin Simms, into our arcane routines.

Haydn and Murray as I knew them. Great guys!

Marbecks Records was a special place. It was thanks to Noel that I discovered Marbecks. He alerted me to the delights on offer in that funny little shop in the Queen's Arcade. 

They had a box of Apple singles that I would often ask to see and buy from for Noel and for me. In the shop were two old guys in their white business shirts and ties: Avuncular Murray Marbeck was clearly the boss; Haydn Marbeck was the mischievious, sarcastic, younger brother. A very cheeky female shop assistant was also there to serve us. They were never condescending, always very knowledgeable and obliging. I must have asked for that box of Apple singles dozens of times!

Then one day there was a young guy behind the counter as well (it was getting pretty cramped back there) -  a guy about our age. Another Marbeck had joined the family firm. We would chat with Roger who immediately impressed us with his musical knowledge and his easy going manner. We were speaking the same language! 

Apart from Apple singles, Marbecks also had a range of Apple albums and weird stuff that was unmatched by the other stores. AM was timed around the punk outbreak remember and a lot of those other stores were practising a sad devotion to that ancient religion. Marbecks Records suited me. Clearly, with shirts and ties, it wasn't a slave to punk fashion.

Around this time, end of school, start of University, I had a summer job working as a chain man/gofer for a surveying company. The engineers and surveyors were cool to work for during my holiday breaks. I had a lot of fun there, but I'd had had enough of painting boundary pegs.

Roger Marbeck loves music.

The Rock and Roll lure was strong! When I asked Roger if he needed a hand during the peak holiday periods to help him and shop assistant Vanessa in the new pop/rock shop opposite the classical one in the arcade, he said, "Yeah! Okay."

Brilliant! Not only could I sift through the bins for free, I could take my pay in records (some weeks I actually paid Roger to work in the store).

And that's what happened in my long summer holidays from 1978 until 1982 (and again later - whenever we found ourselves living in Auckland). It was glorious fun! Ness, Roger and I got on really well. The arrangement suited us all. I would have a weekly pile of records put aside and collect them on pay day! Ness had a co-worker and Roger had someone else to share the load and order about! It was perfect.

Murray and Haydn were also great guys. Haydn gave me heaps! Murray was always a real gentleman. Mum remembered having dealings with young Murray when she worked at Lewis Eady and she always regarded him highly. She always referred to him as Mr Marbeck.

Friday nights were my favourite time in the store. Not only were there slower hours and that meant I got to choose what we listened to, but it also meant food. Haydn would order Chinese takeaways and we'd take it in turns to eat across the arcade, upstairs in the classical shop.

Somehow, I would often (I hesitate to say, always, but it felt like that) get to share my meal time with Haydn and he was hilarious! And rude! His jokes were always accompanied by twinkly eyes and a dirty laugh. Great times!

I especially loved working with Roger. He's like Greg - a funny, fun, genuine guy who is into music. Our friendship developed naturally. I met his girlfriend, Deirdre Dunn, and we'd all spend time together. I would even stay over at their place in Canongate Street from time to time. I helped out with digging out their basement and Roger gave me a boxed set of Cream albums as a bonus. I enjoyed his company and we listened to a lot of great music.  

I went to his wedding to Deirdre with my date, Lynley Wood, and, in 1984, the Marbecks came to mine, all the way down in New Plymouth. Then we started having our children around the same time: Jessica was matched by Keegan and Adam; Logan/Samantha; Briar/Jade - we were ahead 4 to 3 when we each decided that was enough. Through those young years we shared holidays and family time (more to come in the Family Man chapter). 

Over the years, Roger became a big brother figure and like a big brother whose record collection is really cool, he hugely influenced my listening!

The collection in the AM era

One upshot of this friendship was that my collection expanded and expanded. Both in quality and quantity. For three reasons: one, working at Marbecks meant access not only to its resources but also to Roger's musical brain and superb taste; two, my teaching studentship - I now had discretionary income; and three, I had no dependents - there was just me. 

My university years were great self indulgent times. No one to think about, other than me, and what records I was going to buy. Oh and my studies. I did study hard, too.

Nice one Rory!

Two concerts from the AM era need a mention: Rory Gallagher's 1980 visit to Auckland's Town Hall and George Thorogood at the same venue. For both, somehow, I went on my own. Along with the Nambassa festival, they were amazing experiences and the Rory one tops my gig going list!

The AM era contained the golden years! From 1983 onwards record buying would take a back seat and dry up, as you'll read about in part 3 - AJ (After Jacky).

But before then, let's luxuriate in my second seventies list - my top 20 picks of AM!

20 Easter - Patti Smith (1978)

In a lecture room in the Old Arts Building at Auckland University, Roger and Wystan played Babelogue/ Rock and Roll Nigger to us during their 20th century American poetry paper. I was transformed by the experience!

19 The Clash - London Calling (1979)
Cousin Christine sent me a punk special cassette with White Riot on it among other delights. Life in cosy sleepy NZ was light years away from what The Clash and others were railing against. It would take me some time to get into bands like The Clash. London Calling was much more accessible.

18 Jackson Browne – Jackson Browne (1978)
This is a prime example of someone I wouldn't have discovered without Roger and Marbeck's influence.

17 Rastaman Vibration – Bob Marley and the Wailers (1976)

16 Exodus – Bob Marley and the Wailers (1977)

15 American Stars and Bars - Neil Young (1977)

Watching him do Like A Hurricane on TV (Barry Jenkin's Grunt Machine I think or early Radio With Pictures) with the wind machines howling along with the guitar was similar to my Ed Sullivan/ Beatles moment.

14 Never Mind the Bollocks Here’s the Sex Pistols – Sex Pistols (1977)

13 Live – Status Quo (1977)
I taped this off the radio - I did that a lot back then because I didn't have unlimited financial resources. Then at Marbecks I'd play this in the shop during quiet moments (in between the best sellers that Roger needed to promote with high rotation).

12 Parallel Lines - Blondie (1978)

11 Terrapin Station – the Grateful Dead (1977)

Roger was a fan of the band - Mars Hotel era especially. I hadn't seen the appeal until then, but I somehow got hooked and this album in particular went on high rotate.

10 Bat Out of Hell – Meatloaf (1977)

I'm instantly transported to the games room at Ramelton Road when I hear this album. I was normally suspicious of mega sellers and avoided them but this was too much fun!

9 Moonflower – Santana (1977)

8 Aja – Steely Dan (1977)

7 Marquee Moon – Television (1977)

Dad, now Managing Director of Wellcome NZ, went on business trips to Sydney from time to time during the AM period. I would put in orders of records and he was a trooper - always came back with a few from my list.

6 Horses – Patti Smith (1976)

Lynley Wood was a fan. She told me about this record as we were standing around outside the University library in 1977. She was so enthusiastic, she talked me into it and she was right!

5 Hard Rain – Bob Dylan (1976)

4 Tejas – ZZ Top (1976)

3 If You Want Blood You’ve Got It – AC/DC (1978)

2 Showtime – Ry Cooder (1977)  

I read an amazing review of this record in Sounds by Barbara Charone (she always wrote well and I kept a clipping of the review). Coincidentally, I heard Jesus On The Mainline on the radio around the same time. Combined, these events convinced me to take a punt.

1 Hejira – Joni Mitchell (1976)  

Of all these albums and of all of Joni's albums - this is the one I play most often. Every time, I convince myself that I'll get it this time (what she's talking/singing about) and every time she leaves me daydreaming about an image and my thoughts wander. I love that.

Love and peace - Wozza

Into this house we're born, into this world we're thrown (The Doors)

Music is love (You may say I'm a dreamer - Chapter 7: The Seventies, Part 1)

Vinyl junkie-dom kicked off big time in the seventies - the decade when I was a teenager.

This first part covers the first flush, the fertile BF (Before Forth)/BK* (Before Knowles) period and takes in 1971-1975. [The second part, due in four days' time, is the AM (After Marbecks) period - 1976-1982].

Records! Bands! What was an interest previously, became much more as posters of bands festooned my teenage bedroom; as the Garrard Sp25 Mark 3 timetable was kept constantly spinning; as Shoot! and Look and Learn gave way to NZ's Groove, Rip It Up, Australia's Go Set, Hot Licks, England's Sounds, NME, Melody Maker and Crawdaddy, CirCreem, Rolling Stone, Circus from America.

Thanks to the growing piles of music magazines under my bed, I began listening to the radio and collecting records with increasing knowledge.

I joined record clubs - RCA first, then World Record Club. I saved up money from odd jobs and my vegetable garden returns from mum and bought records. 

Due diligence became a thing. It became of vital importance to visit record shops a number of times and weigh up the merits of various albums. I didn't have lavish sums remember.

Starting off it was often cut out bins. Often this resulted in some great buys (the aforementioned Small Faces, Hollies, Beach Boys albums came from the Foodmarket, or Woolworths at Three Kings). 

All this gave me habits that last to this day: I love a bargain, and I consider purchases carefully. I value the actual physical object. Number one then, now and forever was/is/will be Long Playing vinyl albums.

During the BF/BK period, a variety of record shops became familiar haunts: Onehunga's Queen Street (Led Zeppelin III); New Lynn's mall (Creedence Clearwater Revival EP); Taste in Lorne Street (Deep Purple's Machine Head); Newmarket's Sounds Unlimited (Frank Zappa's Bongo Fury); 246 (The Hollies and T Rex singles); Otahuhu's DJ Records (The Beatles' Hey Jude and Let It Be package) and on and on it went - building a collection.

As witnessed by the Top 30 list at the end of this post, mainly my tastes ran to hard rock, heavy metal with many tangential weird fringe side streets along the way, but Beatle style music was always a constant.

My modus operandi was to latch onto a group or artist after buying their current album or single. From there I would start hoovering up the back catalogue.

Following my purchase of a Solid Gold Hits Vol 2 album, John Lennon is a case in point - the current album and hit was Imagine in 1971 (from George Courts in K Rd). From there it was a backwards search for John Lennon/ Plastic Ono Band and Live Peace in Toronto. Then it was a slavish devotion to everything he's done, said, written, sung.

I wrote a letter to Sounds magazine in 1975 that to my shock was published. I was seeking information on how to get some mythic Lennon albums - Two Virgins, Life With The Lions, Wedding Album, and Live Peace in Toronto. None of which I could find in any of my usual haunts.

Some of these albums are pictured above. How come? Noel Forth is how come. He saw my Sounds letter and (along with a few others like Lothar Drockner in Germany) started writing to me with suggestions and swaps. He was after certain NZ pressings of Fabs stuff which I could get, parcel up and send to him in Adelaide. In return I got Apple singles and albums, including some of those mythic albums. Heaven.

Noel is also a drummer! Tortis first, then Vertical Hold in the eighties. I became a keen fan of both bands. Nothing like that personal connection, is there?

Even before this watershed moment in 1975 though, the collecting picked up pace!

Mum vetoed Joe Cocker's Cocker Happy for some reason - perhaps the drug busts, perhaps the vague obscenity of the title, and Black Sabbath and Frank Zappa brought howls of protest from the folks but generally I was given free reign with my purchases. I loved them all with a passion.  

Sample of stuff from Noel.

During 1972 things really kicked off: in the football teams and my 4B class I had friends like the aforementioned Clive Webber who lent me records like The Rolling Stones' Exile On Main Street, Jimi Hendrix's Isle Of Wight; I bought Machine Head, Dark Side Of The Moon, and Led Zeppelin 4; heard The Doors' Riders On The Storm on a car radio; from the RCA record club came Uriah Heep and Frank Zappa's Fillmore East album. All of these went onto high rotate on the Garrard SP25 Mk3.

And in this way ran the AF-BK years - reading, collecting when I could, listening, day dreaming and wishing. Oh and failing everything I touched at school. Was there a correlation? Hmmm - now that I think about it...maybe, just maybe, there was!

* BTW - it's called the Before Forth/ Before Knowles period because up to 1975 I was collecting on my own. Then, in addition to Noel Forth's long distance help, I met Greg and during the sixth and seventh form at Mt Albert Grammar we became a team - collecting records, buying records together and even recording stuff together (as Buster Bludvessel and Gregarious G-String). Noel's help was invaluable from 1975 onwards, and without him I would have been truly lost. Much more on this in the second part.

Here is my Top 30 of the BK period (there is nothing that compares to the music of your formative years - ages 13 to 15 - life was never going to be the same after this lot!):

30 Blows Against the Empire – Paul Kantner (1970)
Using the same musicians as David Crosby's magnificent first solo (number 2 ), Kantner et al plot my path to the cosmos!

29 Dark Side Of The Moon – Pink Floyd (1973)
My memory surrounding this has me in mum's mini at the Royal Oak shops, on our way home to Asquith Avenue. I'd just bought it, was busting to hear it, and was looking at the two posters and devouring the rest of the packaging. including the Harvest label. So so cool!

28 On the Beach – Neil Young (1974)

27 St Dominic’s Preview – Van Morrison (1972)

26 The Yes Album – Yes (1971)

25 Bongo Fury – Frank Zappa/Captain Beefheart (1975)

I used to get my Sounds magazines from a corner bookshop in Newmarket. Mum would often visit the shops here, so I guess it made sense to 'have it put away' for me here. Funny - I now have my monthly Mojo magazine put away (PaperPlus in Waipukurau). Nothing much has changed huh?Anyway - while in Newmarket I'd cruise up to the record shop, Sounds Unlimited - which had an amazing range. This is one album that came from there.

24 Captured Angel – Dan Fogelberg (1975)
Copious family holidays were soundtracked by the cassette of this. My favourite Fogelberg album by some distance because of that.

23 Close to the Edge – Yes (1972)
I first taped And You And I from a friend's copy, the rest of the album felt way out of my league - what the hell were they on about? Then I got it! Then I was hooked on Yes and had to have everything!!

22 Aqualung – Jethro Tull (1971)
I bought the single version of Locomotive Breath ('balls' was censored) and molested the house with it - loudly! The folks were a bit disapproving (naive me couldn't understand the fuss - I was listening to the riff!!). A bit later I was watching a surfing film at MAGS during a lunchtime screening, when Slip Stream started up behind the surfing footage. Then Locomotive Breath started. Then I HAD to get the album.

21 Made in Japan – Deep Purple (1972)

20 Wishbone Ash – Wishbone Ash (1970)

19 Machine Head – Deep Purple (1972)
I can still feel what it was like, buying this from the ultra cool Taste Records in Lorne Street and walking out of the shop feeling ten feet tall!

18 Live at the Paramount – The Guess Who (1972) 

In 1972 the family had another Sydney holiday. This time I was old enough to INSIST on visits to record shops. I returned home to NZ with a clutch of albums including this one, and Deep Purple's Made in Japan. At the time, I would have put the Purps ahead but not now (obviously). A rare example of a CD improving on the original vinyl by including all the additional tracks.

17 Alive! – Slade (1972)

One of my first buys was the Tak Me Bak 'Ome single, then this album. Slade in their finest hour - burps, rough starts, stutters and asides just add to the appeal.

16 Moondance – Van Morrison (1970)

15 Ram – Paul McCartney (1971)

14 Isle of Wight – Jimi Hendrix (1971) 
My first Hendrix experience after the Hey Joe single, this is not an album you'd direct newbies to - the track listing is all over the place, but somehow it's the Hendrix album I play the most often! I taped it from a school friend's copy, then had to own it.

13 The Koln Concert – Keith Jarrett (1975) 

This is an example of an album I NEVER would have found on my own. A double album of solo improv jazz piano? Are you kidding?? Please!! But thank God I met and worked for Roger Marbeck. He gave me a home taped cassette of this and told me to listen. I did. OMG. It brings me to tears, this music. How is that possible?

12 Four Symbols – Led Zeppelin (1971) 

I asked dad to get this for me from DJ Records (I paid) and I will always remember arriving home from school and finding this on my bed. I cherish those memories! Many, many headphone sessions in the dark would wear the stuffing out of this album!

11 Exile on Main Street – The Rolling Stones (1972)

10 The Wild, the Innocent and the E Street Shuffle – Bruce Springsteen (1974)

Like the previous Stones record, bought from the Record Warehouse at the same time as Darkness On The Edge Of Town. What I loved about the Record Warehouse was the way they displayed albums facing front so that you could be completely seduced by the cover! Worked on me every time.

9 Irish Tour ’74 – Rory Gallagher (1974)
I came to Rory via a TV special that hooked me well and truly and for ever!

8 Stormcock - Roy Harper (1971)
A friend from where I played social badminton (St Margaret's church hall) wanted me to tape a load of Genesis and Harper albums for him. While the Genesis ones did nothing for me, I instantly fell in love with this one.

7 Waka Jawaka/ Hot rats – Frank Zappa (1972)

From the World Record Club. I didn't 'get' this record for a long time. A teenagers' attention span finds it hard to appreciate a 17 minute Big Swifty, with no vocal. Yikes. Then it just clicked. I used it often to soundtrack my walks through Hadleigh Castle in Leigh-on-sea. It was a perfect fit for my thoughts!

6 Tonight’s the Night – Neil Young (1975)

5 Thick as a Brick – Jethro Tull (1972)

4 Headband – Headband (1971)

3 Blood on the Tracks – Bob Dylan (1974) 
While at University I would often walk past the central library to get my bus. The library was a great place to borrow records I was unwilling to buy for whatever reason. I borrowed this and a few older Dylan albums and took them back to Ramelton Rd. I taped it, then had to own a copy, then another...

2 If I Could Only Remember My Name – David Crosby (1971)

1 John Lennon/Plastic Ono Band – John Lennon (1970)

Less is more was embraced by everyone it seems on this most harrowing of listening experiences. Maybe that's why I love that philosophy so much.

Apart from this being my favourite album of this era (and actually, any era) the album has special memories for me. 

My mum was interested in a number of creative hobbies - flower arranging, pottery, knitting and for a while - painting. I asked her to paint the iconic cover for me and she did. And I have it hanging, proudly, in Abbey Road Three.  

Love and peace - Wozza