Like most albums, this album is a snapshot of a time for me. If I think of it I remember that it is one of the last albums I had in a particular format – cassette.
Naturally I didn’t actually buy it on cassette. No, my best friend taped it for me (remember: home taping is killing music) and I listened to it on my Sony Walkman walking to and from work, tramping along in time to Seven Nation Army.
Fun fact kids: It is actually my second favourite ‘get-somewhere-quickly-when-walking’ song, my favourite being Sheriff Fatman by Carter USM.
Once I upgraded to my iPod I had just that one song left and I never listened to the album any more. Such is life.
A man with a mullet going mad with a mallet in Millets
Before I met my beloved I was only vaguely aware of Half man half biscuit, but over the last 7 years I have listened to many hours of their music, usually a captive audience in his car but once live locally. If you have never heard any of their achingly clever and snortingly funny songs before this album is a great starting point. Are they punk? Are they folk? Are they too bloody clever for their own good? Yes, to all of them.
I can’t claim to get all the references, but then it is handy to have a scouse husband to help out (want one? you can borrow mine, if you are lucky he’ll have you taking part in his music project). I had no idea what the ‘roids’ were until he told me, but anyone can appreciate the sentiment of ‘National shite day’ (which is a blinder performed live) even if you have never seen a man with a mullet going mad with a mallet in Millets. I frequently find myself humming ‘Evening of swing’ for absolutely no reason whatsoever.
When Stegzy ‘encouraged’ me to write this for him I had a look at the track listing to see what songs I already knew from it. I didn’t really recognise any of them, but when I listened I realised that I did know a few of them after all, especially ‘Another man’s woman’ which I enjoyed most of all on the whole album.
A few years ago they showed a recording of Supertramp live (possibly live in Paris ’79 or in Hammersmith in ’75) on telly and maybe I knew them from that? Apart from the one song I didn’t really enjoy this as much as other albums. I didn’t feel I was on an interesting musical journey, I wasn’t held on the path even after listening to it three times on the trot. Maybe I wasn’t in the right frame of mind? I wanted to like it, but I couldn’t. Even the album art work didn’t grip me. Disappointing.
I find it a little amusing that I was introduced to this album by a criminal, who at this very moment is in the process of repaying his debt to society. Or, as he puts it, sitting on the naughty step.
I’d never listened to this album before we got a copy at work, although I knew Dreamer (big UK hit) and Bloody well right (big hit in the U.S., apparently) the rest were a mystery to me. After visiting it a few times I know I will listen to this again and again. This is the classic Supertramp sound I love, and whilst it could never topple my all time favourite ‘Even in the quietest moments’ from its top spot I can imagine growing very fond of it.
I’ve just learned from that know-it-all friend we all have called Wikipedia that in January 2011, Compass won Best Album in the Singer-Songwriter Category at the 10th Annual Independent Music Awards – well there you go something new every day eh? I also learned that that happened when the album was re-released after her pregnancy coincided with the first release. This all makes sense, as I remember her say on 26th August 2009 when I saw her play in Bilston that she was only just back at work after having a baby. I took the date for this from my own spreadsheet, but I’ve just discovered it listed on Wikipedia too, which is slightly disappointing, what is the point in me keeping meticulous records if Wikipedia does it too? The reason I recorded it is I keep a spreadsheet of all the Ezio gigs I have been to since March 2003, and the one and only time I have seen Jane Taylor perform was supporting Ezio. Support acts can be a bit hit and miss, sometimes I have gone only to see the support, other times I have arrived late to miss a support I had no interest in. Luckily on 26th August 2009 my friend Amanda and I arrived in good time to see Jane Taylor play, because I bloody loved it. I bought Compass on the spot, and have played it regularly ever since. I can’t say the same for her other album Montpellier, which I really didn’t rate at all, but that is just how it goes sometimes. So what is it about this album that makes me love it so much? Maybe it talks to me of all those feeling that make up the human condition, all those moments you think and feel too much when you are awake in the middle of the night? I find the first track, Cracks, astonishing. The combination of the soaring lyrics and strings create an enveloping sound. I think this is my favourite of all her songs. Hallelujah, about the death of a grandmother cannot fail to make you think of your own grandparents. It paints such an accurate image of childhood impressions of old relatives; carpet swirls, singing, jewellery and inherited resemblances. The title track, Compass, is stuffed with the feelings of a diminishing love affair. Whenever I start listening to it I think ‘this isn’t one of the best’ but by the end I’m right there with her. I think this is a particular talent of hers, drawing you in with her emotions before you realise you’ve felt this yourself, whether it was last week, last year or decades ago. ‘I’m fine’ is the song that when I heard it live decided the question of CD purchase. I’m known for my dislike of anything “too jazzy” but this is just jazzy enough to be below the threshold for me. Sadly that one gig in 2009 is the only time I’ve seen her play live, She’s never played locally and conveniently enough for me. I still get the emails and hope that will change sometime in the future.
As the family film Chitty Chitty Bang Bang was out several years before I was born by the time I was old enough to really appreciate it it was being shown on the telly regularly. Just thinking about the film counjures up evocative memories of laying in front of the telly on Bank Holiday Mondays and Easter afternoons, the precious extra spare time before being back at school again.
Like any musical of the time it has a big impressive sound, written to be experienced on the silver screen, and from the style it feels like it could actually have been made any time between about 1930 and 1975.
Despite not having seen the film for about 30 years I found that when I listened to it I could cheerfully sing along with 90%+ accuracy to the entire album, which is just how it should be for a kiddy film. The songs took me straight back to the feelings it created, fear for the characters – would Truly get found out as she pretended she was a music box figure? Or the rousing chorus of the onomatopoeic title track Chitty Chitty Bang Bang and the thrill of seeing this characterful old car fly or float.
It is impossible to separate the film from the soundtrack, so I apologise if this seems to have had too much film and not enough music, but I challenge you not to do the same in my shoes.
I’ve put the track listing below, why not have a nostalgic little hum along to yourself?
In one of those odd little moments of synchronicity the day my beloved asked me to write about this it was mentioned in a book I was reading ‘the unlikely pilgrimage of Harold Fry’ where a bridge by a West Country pub is credited with being the inspiration behind the name. This may not be true, but Paul Simon is well known for his affection for England (and his English girlfriend who couldn’t face life in the limelight).
This album takes me back to my father’s office, filled with his diving treasures, a fascinating roll- top desk my mother later worked at (with an old cheque book in pounds shillings and pence in the drawer) and his drawing table where he would draft out plans. Oh, and the hi-fi, a futuristic silver thing that played my favourites on a Saturday morning when I wasn’t listening to Junior Choice with Tony Blackburn and Arnold the dog (woof woof) on the radio.
Like most albums, this album is a snapshot of a time for me. If I think of it I remember that it is one of the last albums I had in a particular format – cassette. 
A man with a mullet going mad with a mallet in 
Bridge over troubled waters – Simon and Garfunkel
Stegzy's Music Project 