And his edit had a particular focus on the more syrupy soul, the more sensuous sounds. Unbeknown to me, he had prepared a tape of typical Jim tunes from my record collection back at St Thomas Street. I could tell I had a sympathetic audience.īut my housemate Jez had other ideas. That's when you opened up your heart and you told me to come in.Ī thousand kisses from you is never too much. You must have known that I had feelings deep enough to swim in. How I spent my day dreaming, planning how to say I love you. 'I still remember in the days when I was scared to touch you, The truth was I had a sweet tooth musically, and I was not convinced the broader student community was quite ready for full-on Luther Vandross. I thought it probably wise not to make too much reference to soul at this stage. I described my catholic tastes, my diverse musical enthusiasms, my willingness to take requests, my profound sense of social responsibility. Nervously, at the appointed slot on the agenda, I took to the floor and proclaimed my credentials for Juke Box Representative. We passed motions expressing our disapproval – of nuclear missiles, Margaret Thatcher and plastic lids on Marmite jars. We voted to boycott lectures and to have hooks placed on toilet doors. Consequently attendance was high, voices were loud and debate was vibrant. Held on a Sunday evening, their critical component was a barrel of free beer. The College Student Meetings were rumbustious affairs. All I had to do was put myself forward for election at the forthcoming Student Meeting. I could purge the repertoire of any tedious hippiedom and shallow pop bluster. If I were to acquire this responsibility, I could, by stealth, introduce more soulful grooves, more funky floor-fillers, more bass-heavy boogie. There was a student role, Juke Box Representative, which entailed managing the maintenance of the equipment and overseeing the replenishment of records. I had in mind a velvet revolution, a covert coup. Where were Maze and Anita Baker, Dennis Edwards and Evelyn ‘Champagne’ King? Why no D Train or Patrice Rushen?Īnita Baker, ' Giving You the Best That I Got ’ (Bricklebank / Kenric / Clarke / Bricklebank) More to the point, coming from Essex, the home of suburban soul, I felt the College Juke Box was somewhat lacking in contemporary R&B, funk and disco. (Let’s not stay together.) And I’d tentatively suggest that Billy Bragg’s ‘Between the Wars’ - a worthy political statement in the midst of the Miners’ Strike - was played a few more times than it merited musically. Someone kept programming the monotonous drone of ‘Riders on the Storm.’ (I’d happily have shown that tune the door.) Perhaps there was a little too much ‘80s Tina Turner. This is not to say that the College Juke Box was perfect. The one thing, the one thing we can't find."ĪBC, ‘ The Look of Love’ (D Palmer / M Fry / M White / S Singleton) They say, "Martin, maybe one day you'll find true love."Īnd I say, "Maybe there must be a solution to And as last orders approached, we took to the beer-sodden floor in our heavy tweed overcoats, Holsten Pils in hand, and broke into joyously uninhibited dancing. We vied with each other to select the most apposite tunes. We nodded to the beat, sang along with the chorus, swayed to the rhythm. The College Juke Box kept us entertained on grim, wet winter’s evenings, when there was no money to spend and nothing to spend it on. It was an admirably robust, coin-operated, mechanical affair, and it boasted a compelling menu of classic 45s: ‘Ghost Town,’ ’Going Underground’ and ‘The Killing Moon’ ’Teenage Kicks’, ‘Tainted Love’ and ‘This Charming Man.’ There was a sprinkling of venerable obscurities like The Clash’s ‘Armagideon Time.’ And, when Chaka Khan’s ‘I Feel For You’ came on, we would all mimic the scratch, in time, as one. I was however very keen to become Pembroke College Juke Box Rep. I guess I’m wary of exposing myself to the court of public opinion, to the unforgiving judgement of the ballot box. I have only once stood for elected office.
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