My lost albums
Inspired by Lars Mange Ingebrigtsen's Lost Albums list, I decided to make my own. These are albums I love, but rarely see in anyone else's CD collection.
Paul Haig, by Paul Haig
We found a bunch of LPs in a cupboard in one of our student houses. This was one of them. Spiky Scotpop with dark, deep bass vocals and stark, simple melodies.
Burger Habit, by Sensation
The bunch who were previously Soul Family Sensation shortened their name to release this fabulous pop gem, which is better than their previous album, New Wave. The "I don't wanna have to go in there" chant at the end of Splitting up wity your girlfriend is one of my favourite pop moments of all time.
Hawaii, by The High Llamas
Easily mistaken for one incredibly long song, this mesmerising album came into my hands from a bargain bin, and because I thought the title sounded interesting. I've often fallen asleep while listening to this, not because it's boring but because it's so amazingly relaxing.
Looking for a Day in the Night, by Lilac Time
Along with Astronauts, this is one of the Lilacs' greatest triumphs. Country-folk that cares not about guns and oil, but about London and taxis. All over again is a startling attack on the whole record company business, savage in its honesty and sarcasm. It also makes a delightfully singable tune.
Drop the Roof, by Out of my Hair
When I worked for the Cambridge Evening News, there'd be occasional CDs to review. This one was thrown on my desk one week, and I expected it to be awful. But after many listens I began to adore the harmonies and melodic style; this album is rich in both. Sounds great in headphones, or enormous speakers.
Food, Sex and Paranoia, by Furniture
If you don't know about my Furniture fixation then it's about time you did.
Enjoy the Melodic Sunshine, by Cosmic Rough Riders
Harmony-tastic, 60s-inspired, jangly-guitar-ridden sumptuousness for the ears. The second album, Too Close to See Far, is pretty amazing too.
Super Natural, by Bennet
Saw this bunch of likely lads play a gig in a tiny pub in Cambridge. They had such incredible energy and so many singable tunes that I couldn't resist buying the CD. Punkpop about daily life, much like I Should Coco by Supergrass, but released a year later about about a squillionth as successful.
Skellington I and II, by Julian Cope
The ArchDrude released these two albums as obscure vinyl-only collectors items. I heard one of them at a friend's house but never thought to buy my own. Then one day, years later, I found a CD with both albums on it in a second-hand record shop in Croydon. Includes the wonderful Robert Mitchum: "Robert, Robert Mitchum, I wrote a song for you / Robert, Robert Mitchum, I love yes I love yes I really do."
