John Simm's Honest Musical Selections: From Early Loves to Peculiar Dislikes
The initial song I was captivated by
My earliest recollection is entering a room at kindergarten where they were spinning Yellow Submarine by the Fab Four. I was captivated by the sonic landscape, and John Lennon yelling: “Full speed ahead!” When it arrived at the chorus, I recall believing: “This must be music!”
The first record I acquired
When I was eight years old, I was victorious in a contest at school to choose a new record to play at the weekly dance party we had on Fridays. My teacher took me to Woolworths, and I opted for Come Back My Love by the group Darts. The first single I bought with my own savings was Mull of Kintyre by Paul McCartney's Wings from a record shop in Colne. It was No 1 at the time, and I chose it when my dad pointed out that it was by one of the Beatles.
The tune I do at sing-along
I frankly cannot stand public singing and avoid it at all costs. But under duress, I’d select Summer Wind by Ol' Blue Eyes.
The song I strangely know every lyric to
I just realised that I know almost every word to The Boy in the Bubble, You Can Call Me Al, and the entire album on Graceland by the legendary songwriter.
The ideal song to play at a gathering
It relies on what stage of the evening you are at. For the beginning it would most likely be I Heard It Through the Grapevine by Marvin Gaye. As the evening progresses, I’d transition into Prince, the Stones and David Bowie, and when it hits its peak, Phat Planet by Leftfield, Born Slippy .NUXX by the techno pioneers, and Ascension by Gorillaz, which is an undeniable hit.
The song I can no longer bear
I strangely loathe Mr Brightside by the Killers.
The ultimate piece to have sex to
Come Together by the Beatles.
The record that transformed me
When I was 12 and just learning to learn the six-string, I’d only listen to classic rock ’n’roll, and was consumed by Elvis, Chuck Berry, the killer, the New Orleans legend, the glasses-wearing icon and the rockabilly star. Then my childminder introduced me to Let There Be Rock by the Australian rockers. It was still rock’n’roll, but it was electrifying rock ’n’roll. As soon as he put the record on the turntable, I was hooked.
The track that wakes me in the AM
What’d I Say in its full glory by Ray Charles.
The song that brings me to tears
Virtually any music makes me emotional. The Queen of Soul, Frank Sinatra, Elvis and the Fab Four all make me cry because of the harmony and utter beauty of the voices. But The Ocean by the Sheffield crooner gets me going consistently.
The track I’d like performed at my funeral
Elvis. If I’m cremated, I’ll have Burning Love. If I’m laid to rest in the ground, I’ll have Way Down.