Donna, Kevin’s little sister, has always had a mind of her own. There is, however, one area of life she’s always trusted Kevin’s judgement with – stocking up her music selection. Donna, Steve (the honorary 1st blogger), little Jack and Molly (aka Lady Gnasher) live on the Isle of Man.

Where do I begin? When  I think of Kev and music, so much  springs to my mind that it will be hard to keep this to a reasonable length and not start writing a book!

My early memories start with Dad really, as Mum and Dad always used to have music playing when we were younger. Dad got me and Kev into taping off the radio (Sunday charts) and also creating our own cover versions of songs… Gerry Rafferty, a tape recorder and a microphone and we were off!  Our car journeys on holidays to Scotland or Cornwall always involved a stack of complication cassettes of dads, which over time became something that Kev started to compile for us instead. As Kev started to develop his own interest in music including Adam Ant, Frankie Goes to Hollywood and Kenny Logins (I take full responsibility for the latter for buying him the  Dangerzone single, Christmas 1986!!) he was introduced to the likes of Rainbow and Led Zep, bands which I guess started to pave out Kev’s music tastes for many years to come. As a teenager he went deep into heavy metal and I will always remember his Christmas list being full of bands I had never heard off (and actually didn’t want to listen to!) but it was what Kev liked and he never tired of playing his LPs and cassettes in his bedroom. And so it carried on. Some of the older groups are still up there in Kev’s top list – Led Zep without a doubt taking the number one slot and what about Neil Young or is it Neil Diamond?!

Kev has always had a ‘knack’ for introducing others to different music and I can honestly say the CDs he’s bought me over the years have always lived up to my expectations when you say to someone to ‘just choose something you think I will like’ not chart music, not too off the wall, just good music that I myself would never have been able to pick out.

Aside of listening to music, his guitar playing has always been something in the background that he quietly plugs away at and then there’s the concerts as well. Always going somewhere to see someone which seems to be on a weekly basis at the minute!

Music to me is something I listen to but to Kev music is so much more, a passion just like it was for Dad and one that matures with us. Where would many of us be without Kev’s influence and also Kev without Dad’s? Maybe our collections would be full of Mika, The Pet Shop Boys and Deacon Blue instead!!!

Enjoy your blog Kev and have a fantastic birthday 🙂

Lots of Love,

Sis (Donna) xxxx

Richard is a storyteller; a kind of person old tribes would choose to store the wisdom and knowledge the nation has gathered over centuries. He also very convincingly pretends to be Scottish, and is solely responsible for the name of this blog!

There’s a broad musical heritage in OX2 – spit-flecked taverns turned hipster-burger bars where Radiohead first lurched, Ride rode, and Talulah Gosh probably just flounced around in blouses. But you wouldn’t know it down Great Clarendon Street. Walls of wisteria, quads within quads, the constant susurration of the air-conditioning. Filing cabinets that snick shut with morgue finality.

Almost half a decade ago (when he was still sprightly, and had ankles that worked) I met Kevin. We’re down with OUP. Yeah. You know me.

Suddenly working life had an edge. An auditory paper-cut through the tedium of turning manuscripts into photocopier fodder. There aren’t many people who can demolish Tunnock’s Caramel Wafers so completely while espousing their views on the aesthetics of drone, Dave Mustaine’s disquieting spider chord (if you are sneering, go and look it up on YouTube), desert rock, Nuggets psyche, experimental hip-hop, sparse electronica, the parlous nature of contemporary  music journalism…

Many an hour of gainful employment was frittered away with shared reminiscence of ITV’s late eighties, late-night, legendary lump of Rawk – the Power Hour. Old tunes were returned to, new tunes exchanged. The IT department started monitoring emails for improbably large mp3 files.

Now I’m firmly ensconced in the hinterlands, where the mountains forever ring to the sound of Mogwai. All good in this ’hood. So I’ll raise a glass and wish the man himself a Happy 40^th (blimey, you’re as old as Aladdin Sane). Many thanks, my friend. If you fancy a dram, ramble on. And tell Jo we’ve got plenty of Boris…

Les Wazoox shot to fame in the 90’s for no apparent reason. He is best known for his successful club act “Les Wazoox And His Amazing Glancing Lizards”. In this post, Les reminisces over his early memories while Kevin was still in his late forties.

I first met Kevin while celebrating the annual trapeze trials. His mind seemed elsewhere and I noticed he was sporting a cassette Walkman on his belt. He resonated with the muffled sound of shouting and screeching guitars. On enquiry, he mentioned something about his clutch and I bid him good evening.

Despite the thrill of the circus and his near-perfect elastic band act, it became clear to me that Kevin wanted more from life. He withdrew from the circus coffee mornings and lost interest in Mr. Bonbo’s half-year slap-head results. Some of the clowns accused him of stealing their fruit and nut.

I wasn’t surprised when he handed in his laughing teeth. Nevertheless, I pleaded with him to stay one more night.

That evening, During my gecko glancing performance set to the music of Blacksploitation, I noticed that Kevin was writing feverishly in his notepad and flicking rhythms on his footstool. Suddenly I realised Kevin’s life ambition – he wanted to be a music writer. Or a carpenter.