Present ideas
Charles Spencer
We have a super-efficient friend who has all her Christmas shopping both purchased and wrapped by the end of the summer holidays. It drives Mrs Spencer — who regards the approach of Christmas with the panic-stricken horror of a hedgehog who spots an oncoming truck — almost mad with jealous rage.
In an attempt to calm her down, I always say that we should just buy each other a small token (chocolate peppermint creams for her, Australian soft-eating liquorice for me), so she has one thing less to worry about as she does the rounds for her relatives, friends and colleagues. Then I find myself loafing in the West End one afternoon, spot something expensive that would suit her to a tee, snap it up with infuriating smugness and tell her I’ve got her something really nice, but of course she should only give me the liquorice as agreed. Even I can see that this is not an honourable way of behaving.
A few years ago the members of my side of the family agreed that adults wouldn’t give each other presents any more. Instead we’d make a donation to the charity of our choice. Excellent idea but there was undoubtedly a depressing flatness in the pre-lunch drinks period when we’d normally be exchanging gifts. So this year we are giving each other a modest gift while carrying on with the charities.
In fact this is likely to be a modest Christmas for many. And it’s my belief that unless you are buying for my mother — who seems actively to dislike music of any kind apart from French chanson — you cannot beat a carefully chosen CD. It’s got the personal touch, it will give real and lasting pleasure, and it won’t break the bank.
HMV — the best of the music chain stores — seems to be devoting less and less space to music and more and more to DVDs and computer games. But there are still goodies to be found, as I discovered on a recent trawl round the modest Wimbledon branch. Those with access to London should head for the flagship HMV near Oxford Circus, the music lover’s equivalent of Aladdin’s cave, and almost as hard to get out of. But local high street branches should have all these recommendations.
For anyone in their fifties or older, the new Michael Parkinson double CD My Life in Music (£12.99) is damn near irresistible. Those, like me, who enjoyed his Sunday morning Radio Two programme will know the mixture — American songbook classics from the likes of Ella Fitzgerald. Peggy Lee and Nat King Cole, newer contenders like Michael Bublé and Jamie Cullum, unthreatening pop from Van Morrison, Paul Simon et al., and of course some prime cuts from Parky’s idol, Sinatra. This is all music of real class, middle of the road undoubtedly but as you get older that’s often where you want to be. And of course listening to music selected by Parkinson reminds one of that violent and fabulously tetchy encounter he had with Rod Hull and Emu on his TV show all those years ago. I was delighted to discover the clip on YouTube the other day and have been chuckling at the memory ever since.
For teenage boys you can’t beat the Las Vegas band The Killers (dads will almost certainly like them too) and my son Edward’s face lit up when I gave him the new CD, Day and Age (£9.99) the other day. They rock but they are also as catchy as hell.
For those with an embarrassing fondness for cheesy adult-oriented rock like me the new compilation 101 Power Ballads, all six CDs worth and costing a mere £14.95, is irresistible. Tina Turner’s ‘What’s Love Got to Do With It?’, Nilsson’s ‘Without You’, Boston’s ‘More Than a Feeling’ and 98 other tracks of glossily produced, grandstanding emotion are all present and correct. This is schlock with a touch of genius about it and the perfect record for those long holiday drives to your relatives.
With Phil Spector back in court facing a retrial on his murder rap it’s good to be reminded of just how brilliant his greatest music was, and HMV is offering a fantastic double of his legendary Christmas album, and a 22-track compilation of his mighty ‘wall of sound’ hits which he memorably described as ‘little symphonies for the kids’. At a tenner, this is a steal.
There is also a fine new anthology of The Smiths, whose brilliance seems to increase rather than diminish with time. The combination of Morrissey’s wryly solipsistic and sometimes downright depressive lyrics and Johnny Marr’s jaunty, jangly guitar is irresistible. The Sound of the Smiths is available both as a single CD of a-sides (£7.99) and as a double that also includes b-sides, album tracks and live performances. Even at £14.99 the latter is undoubtedly the set to plump for.
And, finally, may I wish all you Spectator pop-pickers a rocking good Christmas and a funky new year. ❑
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