A track a day keeps the doctor away

87. Cilla Black, Ringo Starr and Basil Brush, The Snowman Song (1971)

2009-02-02T17:09:00.002Z

ITSSNOWINGITSSNOWINGITSSNOWING. It started yesterday morning, gently and almost apologetically. Then, around seven thirty, it started to properly whirl. Overnight, about six inches of it has settled in Hackney. I don't know what to do with myself I'm so overcome.

This afternoon I have sat on one of the deep-frosted sun loungers in my garden, watched kids making an igloo in my square, thrown several snowballs at grown-ups I've never met, and made my very first snowman at the grand old age of thirty. He looked a bit simple, but some nice young men took pictures of it, so at least he felt loved. It also made me remember this video I saw years ago starring Cilla, Ringo and Basil. God bless them all.

86. Piney Gir, Greetings, Salutations, Goodbye (2006)

2009-02-01T12:05:00.000Z

I'm off to Piney Gir's house this afternoon to listen to her new album and drink some pink booze. It will be lovely. Here's an old song of hers, and one of my favourites.

85. Harold Faltermeyer, Axel F (1984)

2009-01-31T17:12:00.002Z

I'm going to a fancy dress party tonight where the theme is films from the '80s. I am going as a Ghostbuster, obviously, but for some reason Harold Faltermeyer's theme to Beverley Hills Cop has been in my head all bloody day rather than Ray Parker Junior's for Bill Murray and his friends. Perhaps it's because I loved this track as a child, but God, doesn't it sound antique now?

84. Speech Debelle, Searching (2009)

2009-01-30T10:50:00.000Z

After a great week for great new music, suddenly this single came in the post and my world turned golden. Speech Debelle is a young, female MC signed to Big Dada, home to the amazing Roots Manuva, who tells her stories against the softest, sweetest instrumentals imaginable. A video to this single is at her website, and there's some lovely interviews on YouTube too. Thank God for music.

83. John Martyn, Small Hours (1978)

2009-01-29T14:30:00.002Z

I *love* this song. RIP, my lovely.

82. VV Brown, Leave (2009)

2009-01-28T16:47:00.002Z

*This* is why VV Brown rules. I saw her at the Brits launch last week and not only she did remember that I'd interviewed her and bounded over to tell me how lovely I was (I'm a cheap date), she was also wearing 5-inch heels which made her an approximately 7 foot 15 pop goddess. (Yes, I am a little bit in love with her.)

81. Little Boots, Stuck On Repeat (2008)

2009-01-27T11:02:00.000Z

Turned the radio on today to hear this being played on Radio 2, of all stations, and it sounded incredible. And I know that there are MILLIONS of young kooky women making electronic records at the moment but LB is the best. And VV Brown is the best new pop lady. So there.

80. Teitur, The Singer (2009)

2009-01-26T14:33:00.001Z

Thank God – after weeks of disappointment, a new record that I've picked out of the bulging Rogers postbag that I love, love, love. Paul Lester at The Guardian (hello, Paul) reckons he sounds like Frank Spencer. He does NOT, Paul. He sounds wonderful, and this song is a sliver of gorgeousness.

79. New Kids On The Block, I'll Be Loving You Forever (1989)

2009-01-25T20:31:00.000Z

Firstly, a disclaimer. I am 30 years old. I was born in 1978, and got to that strange stage of life that we call adolescence around 1988 to 1989. While those of you ten years older than me were wearing neon overalls and necking fistfulls of whatever-knows-what, I was sitting in my room, writing in my diary, the walls behind me absolutely bloody plastered with posters of Jordan, Joe, Jon, Donnie and Danny.

Last night, I went to see New Kids On The Block – or The Block, as they amusingly like to call themselves these days – in London's roomy O2. I am working on a big project about boy bands, and this was to be the first leg on my "journey".

I had a problem, however. My cynicism. Having endured some old songs by the band I used to love at a hen night last year, I knew their songs were largely terrible. Now, I was going to destroy my primary-coloured, Smash Hits-fuelled dreams by seeing them live, and then all my excitement for anything at all in the future, ever, would puff away forever.

So I don't know if it was the enthusiasm of my friend Lucy, who came to the gig with me, or whether it had something to do with succumbing the persuasive power of being in a stadium with 80,000 screaming women, but something strange happened. I loved every bloody moment. And when they played this song, the song I used to swoon over as a crimped-haired eleven-year-old, I blubbed. Like a girl.

78. Lord Tanamo and The Skatalites, I'm In The Mood For Ska (1965)

2009-01-24T15:30:00.000Z

The first dance at Bryan and Anna's wedding – the blissfully happy couple had a routine and everything. Enough to make this cynic's hard heart melt like butter, it was.

77. Billy Idol, White Wedding (1982)

2009-01-23T07:33:00.000Z

My lovely friend Bryan is marrying his very lovely missus, Anna, this afternoon in Woburn. I am reading in the wedding. I intend to arrive on the back of Billy's motorbike. I haven't told them yet, but I'm sure they won't mind.

76. Modern English, I Melt With You (1982)

2009-01-22T22:16:00.001Z

I heard this coming booming out of a car stereo in Hackney today. Quite an unusual thing to happen, that. I was reminded how much New Order's Temptation, released the same year, reminds me of it, and how it always puts a spring in my step regardless. And indeed it did.

75. Franz Ferdinand, Ulysses (2009)

2009-01-21T23:29:00.002Z

I don't care if people go, ooh, this is their new sound or, ooh, no-it's-not, it's their old sound all over again for the fuggin' third time. I don't care. This song rocks and Alex Kapranos' sexy voice still makes me go hakjfghskjfhgfkjhkjk. Which is foreign for swoony.

74. Sam Cooke, A Change Is Gonna Come (1964)

2009-01-20T15:22:00.002Z

I wanted to avoid the obligatory fromage-filled Obama post, but I just heard this on Radio 2, and I nearly fell over. Less with the emotion of the day – although I'd sure as anything like to be in Washington DC now and not in a rather cold Hackney – but by Sam Cooke's voice. God damn it, Jesus Christ, and a thousand hallelujahs: Sam Cooke is the GREATEST SINGER OF ALL TIME, you hear, and if you argue with me, then you're just WRONG.

73. Sunny Day Sets Fire, All Our Songs (2009)

2009-01-19T07:20:00.001Z

My favourite new band. They're from London, but their singer is Italian, and they sound Swedish. They are insanely joyful, but also quite, quite mad. Just the thing you need when you're doing the tax return. Oh, and that CHORUS! Their album's out next month – get busy.

72. Madonna, Burning Up (1983)

2009-01-18T09:47:00.000Z

Anyone know why I woke up singing this little beauty this morning? Me neither. Eat this, Lady Gaga.

71. Tony & Tyrone, Please Operator (date tbc)

2009-01-17T13:00:00.000Z

Yet another reason to love Sounds Of The Sixties. Heard this Northern Soul belter this morning and can't get it out of my mind. The "WHAAAAT?" at the beginning is the greatest thing EVER.

70. Emmy The Great, We Almost Had A Baby (2008)

2009-01-16T20:13:00.004Z

Last night, I went to see Emmy The Great at the 12 Bar club in Central London – a gorgeously tiny little place, with a stage that can barely fit three people, as it just about managed to last night. For 40 minutes I stood still, utterly captivated, thinking, Jesus Christ, this girl is really good. And I can't remember the last time my mind didn't wander during a gig, but it didn't last night. Not even once.

69. R.E.M., We Walk (Live at The Pier, Raleigh), (1982)

2009-01-15T16:07:00.001Z

It's R.E.M. again. Sorry. YouTube has seem to have gone crazybusy with early footage of my boys, though, and I'm still reviewing this Murmur reissue. Ahhh, I love them.

68. Monie Love, It's A Shame (1990)

2009-01-14T11:20:00.004Z

While writing this morning, I used the phrase "it's a shame", which suddenly got me singing this fantastic tune. What the hell happened to Monie Love? She was fantastic. According to Wikipedia, she's only 38 too. If anyone knows what she's up to, let me know – I'd blahdy lahv a cup of tea with her.

67. R.E.M., Pilgrimage (1983)

2009-01-13T08:23:00.001Z

I love this song. I love this band.

66. Dead Or Alive, You Spin Me Round (Like A Record) (1984)

2009-01-12T23:39:00.001Z

From the sublime to the ridiculous we go. I went to a pop quiz tonight, hosted by Rough Trade Records, in a lovely new pub called the Lexington, next door to the marvellous offices of The Word. The final round was Celebrity Big Brother themed, with the host playing songs by former contestants on a keyboard in a rather amusing manner. This was one of them. I am also reminded, through a fug of drink, that Jessica Simpson covered this too. Cower here if you're interested.

Oh, and we came fifth out of 25 teams. Not bad work, I thought.

65. Paul McCartney, Pipes Of Peace (1983)

2009-01-11T22:56:00.001Z

Twenty five years ago today, my father died. He was 33. I am 30 now, and the older I get the shortness of his life keeps growing in my mind, like a shadow under dim light. I have written about Dad before, and this particular piece says so much about the effect he had on my life, and the love of music he had that I somehow inherited.
This was the song I wrote about when I last wrote to him in early January 1984. It may not be Paul McCartney's finest work, but to me, it means everything.

64. Erasure, A Little Respect (1988)

2009-01-10T23:59:00.001Z

Today, he started to move out. This evening, I went to a party. Here, I danced to this song near a man in a sailor suit and a cowgirl in a pink hat, in front of a window that looked right onto the Thames. A Dalek birthday cake was also present. There's nothing like simple pleasures.

63. Neil Young, After The Goldrush (1970)

2009-01-09T17:36:00.001Z

I thought this song was mine. It isn't any more. It's theirs.

62. Nino Rota, The Godfather Theme (1972)

2009-01-08T22:22:00.003Z

I have realised something significant these last weeks. It sounds overblown to say it, but it's true: I have fallen out of love with everything. It's as if I have lost all those romantic bones in my body; all those nerve-endings that tingled and burned every time I heard the first bars of a favourite song, read the first lines of a T.S. Eliot poem, or remembered something special, something sacred, from the past. They've all gone.

Tonight, I think I might have felt the first signs of life in me again. I went swimming, with four female friends, in the Oasis Centre in Shaftesbury Avenue, in the heated pool on the roof, under a sky thick with a pea-souper, the air swirling with ice. The moon kept peeking through like a sly cat, and as I watched it, swimming slowly on my back, I remembered the misty sensation of what it felt like to be alive.

It's a less romantic ending to the story to say that we went for pasta, then, us four girls, two heavy with pregnancy, and ranted and raved about subjects from the sublime (having children within marriage and without) to the ridiculous (whether Carrie from Sex And The City needed a sharp word). But as The Godfather theme played as the pasta was scooped up and the cranberry juices were sunk, I felt hope again, strangely enough. Honestly – truly – I think that I'm ready to let that in.

Normal service will soon be resumed

2009-01-07T14:42:00.002Z

Entertaining my parents in London, a long trip to the North of England, and a few days readjusting to the new year have meant that normal service has been disrupted – by the lack of a computer in some cases, or the excess of events in others. Be prepared, everyone: normal service will resume soon.

61. Richard Hawley, Valentine (2007)

2008-12-27T23:53:00.000Z

Totally unseasonal, but I introduced my younger beardy brother to the Hawley a few years ago, and I was pleased to find out tonight, while being entertained down his and his wife's new dog-filled abode, that Rogers Junior and Richard are still in love. It's fine, my brother's wife knows, as she was being serenaded by the velvety Northerner too. It's quite the menage.

60. Bob Dylan and Johnny Cash, Girl From The North Country (1969)

2008-12-26T13:48:00.003Z

I have a horrible, horrible cold, and have been up most of the night hot, bothered and hallucinating, so I am now mainlining the hot orange and trawling YouTube for comforters. I'd already listened to a ton of Richard Hawley and Johnny Cash, when the latter brought me to this version of the song Bob Dylan first put to tape in 1962. I've now listened to this Nashville Skyline classic three times in a row, making me think that Dylan should become my new love for the new year.

59. Slade, Merry Christmas Everybody (1973)

2008-12-25T16:44:00.000Z

Because it has to be, really, doesn't it? Merry Christmas from me, Noddy and Dave Hill's fringe.

58. Aztec Camera, Walk Out To Winter (1983)

2008-12-24T14:32:00.004Z

This just popped up on my iTunes shuffle while I wrapped the last of my presents. How festive.

57. East 17, Stay Another Day (1994)

2008-12-23T23:11:00.003Z

I've heard this not once, not twice, but three times today, the first time on local radio in the car, the second burbling away on a pub jukebox on TV, and the third on Magic FM while catching up with old friends from comprehensive over pizza and plonk. I'm still not bored of it either.

56. The Dunvant Rugby Club, In The Bleak Midwinter (2008)

2008-12-22T23:41:00.000Z

Sadly I can't post you a clip of us in the Dunvant Rugby Club tonight, swimming with mince pies and Old Speckled Hen as we sang to the gods at the bar, but I can post you a clip of my favourite traditional Christmas song. Imagine the choirboys that much older, drunker and Welsh-er, and you'll get the general idea.

55. Bruce Springsteen, No Surrender (1984)

2008-12-21T16:52:00.001Z

God, am I fed up of Christmas songs today. If you are too, and are spending the day packing presents or cleaning the house like an idiot, as I am, here's my tip: put Born On The USA on at full volume. No Surrender, in particular, makes the floor sweeping that much more interesting.

54. Dizzee Rascal feat. Calvin Harris, Dance Wiv Me (2008)

2008-12-20T11:25:00.000Z

Last night, aided by the devil drink, my friend Lucy and I stayed up until the early hours, watching music videos, and deciding which pop star we wanted to be best mates with. Cheryl Cole came close, but Dizzee took the top trump.

53. Martha Reeves and the Vandellas, (Love Is Like A) Heat Wave (1963)

2008-12-19T12:44:00.002Z

Last night, I went to the BBC, to the recording of something that doesn't actually happen on New Years' Eve. I wonder what that is. Anyway, ahem, Martha Reeves and the Vandellas were there, and they played this. It has, for the last ten years or so, been in a constant battle with Glenn Campbell's version of Witchita Lineman to be rubber-stamped as my favourite song of all time. At the moment, thinking of what that glorious, best-bassline-of-all-time does to my brain and my knees every single time I hear it, it's winning.

52. Francoise Hardy, Tous Les Garcons Et Les Filles (1962)

2008-12-18T09:22:00.001Z

I went to France yesterday for the day on a cheese, rillette and Cremant cruise with my friends Alex and Helen. We blasted this out of Helen's little car speakers as we drove out of the Sea France ferry. Pure class, non?

51. Tindersticks, Buried Bones (1997)

2008-12-17T23:02:00.001Z

Saw a triumphant Tindersticks last night, playing under glorious stained glass and a starlit Christmas tree at Islington's Union Chapel. My favourite moments were their performance of the wonderfully passionate Her and The Not Knowing, but in the absence of these songs on YouTube, try this song, from 1997's wonderful Curtains, which they played in their encore. Still, although it was lovely to hear it, Stuart insists on singing the female vocals himself these days, which I think deprives the song of some of its magic. If you need me to help with them, dear, just give me a shout up in the balcony.

50. Shirley Collins and Davy Graham, Love Is Pleasin' (1964)

2008-12-16T14:23:00.002Z

Rest in peace, Davy Graham. Obviously I should've put Anji up here, which is, without doubt, one of the most wonderful things ever put to record. But YouTube's full of young hairy men trying to fingerpick their way through it, so I thought I'd give you this instead. Listen to Shirley Collins' voice, too, and feel your heart melt. Having interviewed her earlier this year, and thought the world of her, I'm thinking of her today.

49. Fleet Foxes, White Winter Hymnal (2008)

2008-12-15T16:02:00.000Z

I heard this gorgeous song playing over the speakers in Oddbins over the weekend. It made me feel so Christmassy that I spent £25 in there. I think I'm still drunk. Damn them all to hell.

48. Alexandra Burke, Hallelujah (2008)

2008-12-14T10:25:00.005Z

Oh shush yourselves, indie boys. I love Leonard Cohen's sleazy original from the bottom of my heart, but there's no denying that Hallelujah is also, at its core, a truly fabulous love song, and I'm delighted that more people will get to know it now. Alexandra's not got a bad set of pipes either – and her last verse is truly lovely.

47. Abba, Knowing Me Knowing You (1977)

2008-12-13T11:20:00.000Z

Here's a scene from a recently single woman's life that sounds like it came straight out of a terrible rom-com: a girl in a minicab, full of beans after a night with friends and lashings of drink, beaming as this, the perfect pop song about break-ups, suddenly comes on the radio. Abba are geniuses and let's leave it at that.

46. Joni Mitchell, River (1971)

2008-12-12T18:03:00.001Z

Best Christmas song ever. Apart from the one by Slade, obviously.

45. Morrissey, Lifeguard Sleeping, Girl Drowning (1994)

2008-12-11T17:59:00.000Z

I saw Morrissey introduce his new album at the Pigalle Club today – read all about what I thought of the record over at my other blog. This is still one of my favourite Morrissey songs, though, and I long for him to do something as affecting, and wonderfully strange, as it again.

44. Blur, Sing (1991)

2008-12-10T15:28:00.003Z

I've written about the Blur reunion for The Guardian today, and I was reminded by a friend, and then a blog poster, about this fantastic track of theirs. There's something about its bassline, and those seductive, building guitars, that just won't let me go.

43. The Hives and Cyndi Lauper, A Christmas Duel (2008)

2008-12-09T16:00:00.001Z

The first Christmas song on here this year, folks. Not surprising, really, as I have done bugger all about present-shopping apart from a brief five-minute scoot around Borders in Islington, and feel about as festive as an over-boiled sprout. Still, this song might change things. It is genuinely, genuinely fantastic – Fairytale Of New York filtered through ten shades of mental.

42. Feist, So Sorry (2007)

2008-12-08T23:23:00.002Z

This came up on my iTunes shuffle today. I still remember the first time I heard it – a bright spring morning when I first put Feist's second album, The Reminder, on the CD player, and stopped, gobsmacked, as this gorgeous opening track unwound itself from the speakers. And to these well-worn ears, Feist's vocal here is still utterly extraordinary.

41. School Of Seven Bells, iamundernodisguise (2008)

2008-12-07T22:06:00.002Z

I listened to this album today on a long, cold, sunny walk into Islington. I loved it when I first heard it three months ago and still love it now. And if you are a bit partial for Au Revoir Simone, enjoy the more electronic side of shoegaze or dream-pop, or simply like the sound of two lovely female voices lacing themselves together, then you should like this too.

40. Jackie Lee, White Horses (1968)

2008-12-06T09:40:00.001Z

This just popped up on Sounds Of The Sixties. Few songs say so much about lovely, whimsical nostalgia as this one.

39. Bob Dylan, I Threw It All Away (1969)

2008-12-05T09:55:00.002Z

Oh my God. I've just been listening to Michael Eavis on Desert Island Discs. This was one of his choices. And I know this sounds ridiculous, but here goes anyway.

After years of almost getting there but not quite, I think I've just had my first real Bob Dylan moment. Tell me where to go from here.

38. The Small Faces, Rollin' Over (1968)

2008-12-04T23:58:00.002Z

I've just come back from a lovely couple of drinks with a friend of mine who takes photographs for the marvellous The Word. As well as plying me with wine, he also introduced me to a side of The Small Faces that I'd never heard before. I thought they just debated, in an irritating fashion, whether it would be nice to get on with your neighbours or stroll round Itchycoo Park. I was wrong.

37. Odetta, House Of The Rising Sun (2008)

2008-12-03T13:08:00.000Z

Today, I am writing about the wonderful American singer and civil rights activist Odetta, who died yesterday at the age of 77, six cruel weeks before she was due to fulfil her last dream and play at Obama's inauguration ceremony. In the piece, I write about this incredible clip of her, last summer, singing House Of The Rising Sun at a free concert in Governors' Island, building in verses from the folk songs St James' Hospital and When I Was A Young Girl. Her voice still conveys so very, very much.

36. Mary Margaret O'Hara, Body's In Trouble (1988)

2008-12-02T16:49:00.000Z

I finally interviewed Mary Margaret this afternoon. She was absolutely wonderful, telling me about how her nephew's wife gave birth to their latest baby after "bringing up", how her sister Catherine – her from the Christopher Guest films – is a huge inspiration, and how Morrissey was a "real cute kid". She also talked a lot about the unconventional nature of her music. There's something about it that always brings me back, the sense of an unique, vivid personality that reminds me of artists like Laurie Anderson and Bjork. This is from Mary Margaret's debut album, her only full album, Miss America.

35. Morrissey, November Spawned A Monster (1989)

2008-12-01T23:56:00.002Z

Sorry that this is the second incidence of La Moz in three days (although GOD, what a video - I can still sense the stirrings of teenage me). Anyway – this song is here because I tried to interview Mary Margaret O'Hara today, the Canadian singer and sister of Christopher-Guest-film-aficionado Catherine, and wanted to ask her if she actually did backing vocals on this song, as the myth says she does. I can't hear them. Can you?

34. Herbie Hancock, Rockit (1983)

2008-11-30T11:35:00.002Z

I went clubbing last night. In Shoreditch, London's perenially fashionable hotspot. I am 30 years old. Yes, I was terrified. I had a great time, though, first in 93 Feet East, then the brilliant Horse and Groom pub, before going to East Village where the music was bloody awful and the crowd incredibly dull. But the rest of the night up to that had been bloody marvellous, especially at the point in 93 Feet East where this, erm, "dropped". Great video, too.

33. The Smiths, Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want (1984)

2008-11-29T12:48:00.001Z

This cropped up on Football Focus this morning as I was channel-hopping, still hungover after the excitement of last night. It accompanied some footage of a footballer who obviously has a story to tell. God bless all those lovely music continuity people, and God bless The Smiths for saying everything always.

32. The Killers, Human (2008)

2008-11-28T17:46:00.000Z

I'm on Newsnight Review in about six hours. We will be talking about the new Killers album, among other things. I am pacing round the house like a fool. Arrggrghh.

31. Lindstrom and Prins Thomas, Further Into The Future (2004)

2008-11-27T16:43:00.001Z

I am writing a piece for The Graun about the revival of cosmic and italo disco, fantastic music from the early '80s that is bloody everywhere at the moment. I know, get me and my fancy pants. I interviewed Lindstrom about it this afternoon, an utterly lovely Norwegian chap who is incredibly bright, makes fantastic records, is an amazing remixer, and is also very, very handsome. I think I'm love.

30. Sad Kermit, Hallelujah (2008)

2008-11-26T15:26:00.001Z

Today, I've been writing my Guardian column about modern standards, making particular reference to Sandy Denny's Who Knows Where The Time Goes? and Laughing Len's Hallelujah. While looking for, and listening to, the numerous cover versions of the latter on YouTube, I found this. The most original version yet, I reckon. Eat that, Rufus.

29. The Passions, I'm In Love With A German Film Star (1981)

2008-11-25T16:37:00.001Z

The reissue of The Passions' debut album has been in the kitchen hi-fi for about a week now. Those opening chords – I love 'em – get me every time.

28. Leona Lewis, Run (2008)

2008-11-24T11:15:00.002Z

I got tired of the original after about five minutes. And Leona should be a dry and soulless X-Factor product. But I think this is really good. And apparently it's not just me. Who'd have thought it?

27. Gina X Performance, Nice Mover (1979)

2008-11-23T23:38:00.000Z

Today started much the same as Saturday. Then a lovely friend of mine came round. We drank bitter and played Scrabble in the pub, ate pizza and watched Priscilla, Queen Of The Desert in my living room, and went a bit YouTube crazy in my kitchen where I was introduced to this terrifying little beauty. Eat that, Grace Jones. And thanks a million, Dan C.

26. Blur, Badhead (1994)

2008-11-22T22:55:00.000Z

Not a good day.

25. Janis Joplin, Ball and Chain (1967)

2008-11-21T23:30:00.001Z

Today, four days after I'd last been there with Leonard, I did a radio interview at the Royal Albert Hall. This time it was empty apart from a few stage-hands and a stage dotted with music stands. I was being interviewed about Janis Joplin, Leonard's girl from the Chelsea Hotel, and her performance there, in 1969, with the Kozmic Blues Band. How strange that this week should bring the two of them together.

But this remains my favourite performance of hers, from the 1967 Monterey Pop Festival. I love the moments when her voice is soft and low – such a contrast to those wild, ragged wails. Most of all, I love Mama Cass's reaction in the audience. Rapt and open-mouthed, it says everything.

24. The Beatles, Paperback Writer (1966)

2008-11-20T10:35:00.004Z

The Chain – the e-mail game I play with my friends which I wrote about last week – has brought us to this little-known gem. Christ, they were alright, weren't they? But if you had to have one of them, at this precise stage of their career, which one would it be? At the moment, I'm veering towards John.

23. A Guy Called Gerald, Voodoo Ray (1989)

2008-11-19T09:25:00.003Z

The new Hacienda Classics album has been a boon these last few days. Here is a track I adored as a wide-eyed eleven-year-old and still adore now.

22. Leonard Cohen, Famous Blue Raincoat (1971)

2008-11-18T09:32:00.004Z

Leonard Cohen played this, my favourite song, last night. I would write about it, but I can't find the words, or the guts, to do so right now. Just listen to the lull of its guitar, the sensitivity of his vocal, and the lyrics that cut me to the maw every time.

21. Susanna and the Magical Orchestra, Love Will Tear Us Apart (2006)

2008-11-17T08:57:00.003Z

Before it all, I saw Susanna at Kings Place. Her songs were beautiful, and her razor-sharp, yet soft, Norwegian voice, as always, grabbed my heart and tugged it hard. Given what happened after, it continues to. Here is her version of one of the greatest ever pop songs.

No track today

2008-11-16T23:59:00.000Z

Four and a half years finished today, so the doctor didn't stay away.

20. Young Marble Giants, Final Day (1980)

2008-11-15T23:25:00.003Z

Last night, I saw Young Marble Giants play in the Reardon Lecture Theatre at the National Museum of Wales. What a heavenly place it was. Every bit of it seemed to breathe out an air of dusty, lovely learning. I wanted to fold myself up into the plush, faded seats and stay there forever.

And then there were the band themselves. I came to Young Marble Giants very late - last year, in fact, when Domino re-issued their only album, 1980's Colossal Youth, and their other recordings. I was instantly fascinated by the album cover, a bleak, black-and-white photograph of two men and one woman, all of them impossibly young. It made me think of the same doomy spirit of Joy Division's album sleeves, transformed into something unbearably human.

And then there was the music, sparse, sublime, sweet and terrifying at the same time. Final Day was the song that affected me the most, a song about the dropping of the nuclear bomb. Last night, it was moving to see Stuart and Philip Moxham, somewhat older now and cheerier, still making that same raw sound from the bare bones of a Roland synthesiser and the rough plucks of a Rickenbacker. More moving still were Alison Statton's vocals, still summoning up the eerie power of the untrained, flat-vowelled 21-year-old she once was.

19. A-Ha, The Sun Always Shines On TV (1985)

2008-11-14T09:06:00.002Z

Because it's Friday. Because the sun's out. Because I heard it on Radio 2 yesterday afternoon by accident and it made me happy for the rest of the day. Because it reminds me of being a nipper and hearing Morten Harket singing "touch me" and my head falling off with excitement.

18. Wiley, Wearing My Rolex (2008)

2008-11-13T14:32:00.005Z

This week, I've gone to two aerobics classes. What's more, I enjoyed them. I know – I'm worried too. But in both, I got to star-jump to this, my favourite no. 1 of the year so far. I think that might have helped.

17. Robert Wyatt, Sea Song (1974)

2008-11-12T13:36:00.003Z

Today, I'm writing about the wonderful glut of Robert Wyatt reissues for my Guardian column (in the paper this Friday). This, I think, is my favourite song of his, and what a lovely version of it it is too. If you like it, I'd recommend a listen to the wonderful version by Rachel Unthank and the Winterset as well. Then buy some new hankies.

My Word

2008-11-12T12:18:00.003Z

Issue 70 of The Word is out today, with a charmingly winterish Jarvis Cocker on the front. Inside, I go to town on the new albums by Razorlight and The Killers in a big old review. I also tell you why you should listen to Alela Diane's lovely Headless Heroes album, and enjoy the masterclass in Spinal Tap parody that is the opening 15 minutes of Scorsese's Shine A Light. Subscribe ever so cheaply here.

16. Elastica, Vaseline (1995)

2008-11-11T18:08:00.002Z

My friend Oliver (hello, son) is obsessed with The Chain, the song-linking segment on Mark Radcliffe and Stuart Maconie's weekday evening show on Radio 2. Its rules are simple. Pluck any song out of the air – let's say, for the sake of argument, the song below, The Jets' Crush On You. Someone might think, oh, the Jets were a gang in West Side Story, a film that starred two actors who went onto act in Twin Peaks. So – let's make the next song in the chain the theme from that series, which was Falling by Julee Cruise.

A confession: Oliver, my boyfriend, two other friends and I now play this game by e-mail. The Jets, yes, was my entry, the Julee Cruise song, my boyfriend's follow-up.

Anyway, today we got to Molly's Lips by The Vaselines, which brought me to my next, rather weak, link in the chain – in terms of how inventive one can be with the links, I mean. But I had to include this song because, goddamit, it is the lost classic of Britpop – a dirty slip of a thing which, like so many of Elastica's songs, is basically about shagging.

This song also has a legend that lives on among people of a certain age. In essence, Vaseline was very, very short, which made it a perfect track for the end of a C90 mix-tape. Oliver told us today that he had once put this song on the end of one side of a tape, nine times, for a laugh. I'm sure Justine Frischmann, and anyone out there born in the late 1970s, would be very happy to hear that.

15. The Jets, Crush On You (1986)

2008-11-10T17:01:00.000Z

The first pop magazine I bought was No. 1. It didn't have as profound an effect on me as Smash Hits, a magazine that was such a mind-meltingly wonderful revelation that I still remember every detail about the first issue I bought. August 10, 1988. 48p. Brother Beyond on the cover; Tanita Tikaram on the side-strip; songwords to We Call It Acieeed by D-Mob inside. Anyway, the only thing I remember about No. 1 is that it alerted me to the existence of The Jets, who, if memory serves, were the American version of Five Star, who themselves were Romford's take on The Jacksons. Amazing.

The Jets only had one hit, which I remembered it this morning for some peculiar reason. And guess what? It's still really, really good. It IS.

14. Kym Appleby, Don't Worry (1990)

2008-11-09T18:53:00.000Z

I turned on Radio 2 today (while trying to scrape some lunch off a pan, as per) to find Dale Winton's Pick Of The Pops show. I never even knew such a thing existed. He was running through the Top 10 countdown from November 10, 1990. God, I nearly burst with excitement. Then he played this, a song that bleeds bright red Stock Aitken Waterman blood. Naturally, I love it.

13. Threatmantics, Big Man (2008)

2008-11-08T19:25:00.000Z

I first saw Threatmantics playing in a tipi in a field in Dorset. They were great and utterly mad, like three hairy blokes let out of a loony-bin, given a viola, and told to try and make some tunes. Then they started singing in Welsh. My big Swansea heart couldn't have beaten any louder.

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

2008-11-08T17:06:00.000Z

Five words isn't enough to write an aural diary. So you're going to get more of the buggers from now on, you poor devils. Enjoy.

12. Radiohead. Nobody Does It Better (2006)

2008-11-07T20:55:00.000Z

Best Bond theme cover ever.

11. Orange Juice, Rip It Up (1981)

2008-11-06T12:30:00.000Z

Pop is rarely this glorious.

10. Nina Simone, Feeling Good (1965)

2008-11-05T20:58:00.000Z

New dawn, new day, today.

9. London, The Smiths (1987)

2008-11-04T14:53:00.000Z

To Euston, she really goes.

8. Elbow, Friend Of Ours (2008)

2008-11-03T16:28:00.000Z

Heartbreaking, heart-lifting. Love you, mate.

7. No One Takes You Home, Kathryn Williams (2002)

2008-11-02T19:54:00.000Z

At Kath's, drinking wine, thinking.

6. PJ Harvey, The Piano (2007)

2008-11-02T06:34:00.000Z

Oh God I miss you.

5. Jarvis Cocker, Heavy Weather (2006)

2008-10-31T15:27:00.000Z

Rain greets me in Sheffield.

4. Toumani Diabate, Cantelowes (2008)

2008-10-31T05:08:00.000Z

Last night's gig, still reeling.

3. The Chills, Pink Frost (1984)

2008-10-29T15:08:00.000Z

New Zealand indie, bringing winter.

2. Hamilton Bohannon, Disco Stomp (1975)

2008-10-28T17:32:00.000Z

Southern disco; inspired Johnny Marr.

1. VV Brown, Crying Blood (2008)

2008-10-27T17:27:00.000Z

Perfect Betty Boo cartoon pop.